“She feels ill…” I murmur, but the words come out awkwardly.
The silence is torment. Slowly, Sil shakes his head at me. “No, she doesn’t,” he replies firmly, staring deep into my eyes.
He knows.
TITUS: “Gods, who isscreaming?” He emerges from the staircase, Arius and Parrish just behind him. “Did Jude stumble across his own reflection?”
Sil’s eyes bore into mine and then fall back to the pages. “Oh, Riven,” he says gently, but his tone is grief-stricken. “You weren’t supposed to find that.”
Before he can reach for me, I bolt.
My heart hammers against my rib cage as I run, making a mad dash for the narrow corridor under the lobby staircase.
I have no idea where I’m going.
But I know something I’m not supposed to know.
There, down the hall, a set of doors I’ve seen before. They lead into the arena, where contenders were introduced the first night of the casting call. Mirrors. There are mirrors down there, lining the walls. I remember seeing them.
Slamming into the doors, I race down the stairs.
But with every step, I remember more.
Gold-encrusted mirrors hang over stone walls by the narrow entrance into the arena, the very same one I stood in during my first night in the Playhouse. Eavesdroppers and shadows be damned, I slam my palms into the glass.
“Cassia! Show me Cassia Hesper.”
Astonishingly, an image clears: one of Cassia’s old study, dusty bookshelves stacked against rickety walls. My heart tears a fraction more. After all of this, Cassia left the mirror uncovered for me.
Then: “Riven?”
“Cassia!” My voice sounds shaky and unfamiliar in my own ears.
“Riven, that isn’t you. Is it?” Urgency clips her tone. Her figure steps cautiously into view. She looks much the same, save for the haggard lines beneath her eyes. I know better than to think I can say the same for myself.
Cassia eases back when she lays eyes on me, the fear plain on her face.
There’s a sound like a door banging somewhere in the distance. I don’t know which side of the mirror it comes from.
“I don’t have time to— I…” My words jumble. Then: “Come to the Playhouse!”
In an instant, her expression shifts, distraught. “So it’s true. You’re one of them now.”
“Cass, please,” I plead, breathless as the clip of steps echoes somewhere outside the arena’s entrance. I don’t know how to convey any of it. “You have to stop me.”
“Stop you,” Cass repeats, voice low.
“You have to stop me from doing something terrible,” I urge, desperate.
“If what the papers say is true, it’s far too late for that.”
Flinching, I steal a glance at the pages in my hands. I’m going to do worse.
“No, Riven,” Cassia says, her tone indicating the conversation is over. “I will not go near the Playhouse. Not for you, and not for—”
“Fine!” I yell, my mind racing. “Then—then get a message to the council for me. Okay? Please. There’s something you should know.” I drag my gaze over the pages. “There’s something we should all know.”
A light claps on outside the hall I’m burrowed in. It summons me forward. I grip the sides of the mirror to keep my feet from moving for it.
