Geordie’s jaw clenched as he sagged into her hold for a moment before he pulled back with a tight nod. The woman pressed a kiss to my hair, releasing Geordie as the male I recognized as my father tore open a portal. Her shoulders shook with grief as she stepped forward. “This is the only way,” she sobbed. “Selir willing, I will see you again, my little star.”
I watched as she released my small body through the portal. Geordie stepped forward to follow and stopped abruptly, hiseyes going completely white.
“No,” he bellowed as the sound of a door being battered down rang out.
The scene shifted almost too quickly for my eyes to follow—shadows wrapping around my parents as they bade Geordie to run. A blade flashed, blood splattering across my parents’ clothing as screams ripped through the glass before the vision cut away.
“No,” I cried out, begging my feet to move. “This can’t be real!”
“Descendant of the last Starcaller Queen,” the voices droned. “Blood of the throne. Child of a slaughtered line. You are the heir. The realm bends to you. War follows you. These are the truths we whisper.”
The images came faster now—armies clashing under banners of flame, the Fae King laughing over a mountain of corpses. Zypher’s body, crumbling to ash. Gabriel’s head lolling in death. Shadrie, torn apart. Miles’ lifeless eyes staring up at me. I screamed, pressing my palms to my ears and slamming my eyes shut as I forced my feet to carry me forward. I stumbled until I slammed into the hard, cool surface of another mirror and was forced to open my eyes.
I saw them then—the three males who weren’t mine, but I felt drawn toward anyway. Vallynn, Dante, and Caulder, dragged in chains, their expressions carved from fury and betrayal. The executioner’s axe fell once, twice, three times. Their heads rolled across the mirrored floor. Finally, it was me, kneeling at the block. My own execution reflected endlessly in the glass until I couldn’t breathe.
I could feel the weight of the crown in my reflection pressing heavier and heavier on my skull. Every whisper drove the blade deeper into my chest. “Too weak. Too small. Too afraid.”
For one terrible moment, I believed it all, sinking to my knees as despair tore at me. The voices taunted me with the destruction I would bring, the endless death. But thenI remembered Zypher’s arms around me, Gabriel’s reluctant hand in mine, Shadrie’s inappropriate jokes, the studious way Miles attacked every problem. They had all believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.
The labyrinth wanted me to believe in a future where I let my own fear consume me. One where I refused the truth it spoke and led my friends and mates to their bloody deaths. I forced myself upright, every part of me trembling. “I will not accept this,” I whispered—then louder, stronger.
The mirrors rippled, cycling through vision after vision. I forced myself to look closer; some of it was true. The woman sobbing had been my mother. I’d dreamed of her voice more nights than I cared to recall. The fae male with emerald eyes—my father—his face setting off a twinge of undeniable familiarity. That I was the Starcaller was another undeniable truth. A deep, knowing acceptance settled into me as I considered the possibility that the throne belonged to my family—that I was the rightful ruler of this realm. But the rest—the crown crushing me, the endless corpses, the betrayal in the eyes of those I cared for—those were possibilities, shadows twisted into inevitability by fear.
“I see it now,” I whispered, pressing my palm against the cold glass. “You show me what was and what could be, but I’m the only one who can decide what will be.” The crown in my reflection flared, heavy and gleaming, but I refused to bow beneath it. My voice grew stronger, steadier. “I am Bechora Knightvale. I am the Starcaller Queen. That much is truth,” The images of war and ruin screamed louder, trying to drown me out. Their weight caused me to stumble, but I refused to give in, my feet carrying me forward one step at a time. “I am not too weak. I am not too small. And I am not afraid.” The last word tore from my lips in a roar.
The mirrors around me shattered, shrieking as shards of glass exploded through the air. My arms flew up to protect my face, and the sensation of being jerked forward shot through me. The illusions’ screams were ripped away, and quiet chatterreached my ears, causing me to peek through my arms. I was back in the cathedral—whole and unharmed.
Chapter Forty-Three
Bechora
We gathered in mine and Shadrie’s dorm room again that evening. We’d all survived, but the mood was more somber than the evening before. Even Zypher lacked his usual cheer after whatever he’d faced in the upper-classmen’s trial. None of us could bear to share what we’d experienced, each of us too lost in the haunting memories of what we’d survived. Zypher and Gabriel joined me in my bed again that night. We clung to each other as if we could survive the next two days by force of will alone.
“A package came for you,” Shadrie mumbled when we finally stumbled out of my room the next morning.
Zephyr and Gabriel followed close behind as I moved to the counter where she’d left the package. It was wrapped the same as every other gift I’d received throughout the term, but my demon mate’s presence was enough to tell me it hadn’t been sent by him. My hands trembled as I opened the small box, realization washing through me that if he hadn’t sent this one, he hadn’t sent any of the others either. Inside sat several small vials of liquid, but there wasn’t a note to tell me who my secret benefactor was.
“Someone is helping you, Dilectus,” Zypher said softly.
My brows dipped as I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Gabriel gently nudged me aside and peered into the box. “He’s right. These each have a specific purpose.” He lifted a vial of deep green liquid from the box. “This is meant to mimic earth magic in people who don’t have access to it. Based on the coloring, it’s quite strong, too. If you use this, you shouldbe able to control earth magic for hours and with the strength of a natural wielder.” He gently set the vial aside and pulled another one free. This one was a milky white substance with a slight shimmer. “This is called Obscuration powder.”
“But it’s a liquid,” I interjected.
“Only until it’s exposed to the air,” Zypher offered in explanation. “The moment you uncork that vial, it becomes a powder that will temporarily hide you from sight.”
Gabriel nodded as he continued to remove vials from the box. “Ice magic, storm magic, speed. Someone has provided you with tools to give you a leg up in today’s trial.”
“We don’t even know what it is; how could someone possibly know what I’d need to help me?”
Gabriel shrugged, and Zypher shook his head. Shadrie cleared her throat and pushed my mates out of the way to study the vials lined up on our counter. “It has to be someone on staff,” she said. “That’s the only way they’d know how to help in advance.” I looked at her in disbelief, opening my mouth to argue, but she held up a hand, silencing me. “I know it doesn’t make sense, B, but you should still stick these in your pockets just in case.”
The look on her face didn’t leave room for argument, and I grabbed the vials, putting them in the pockets of the sweats I'd put on before leaving my bedroom. I’d decided the moment I opened my eyes that if I were going to die today, I was going to go out comfortable.
Nobody said another word as we left our dorm in a slow, fragile procession and headed to the dining hall. The tables were packed tighter than usual. Everywhere I looked, students sat in clusters, some with a dazed, empty expression on their faces, others crying softly. Zypher led us to our normal table before he and Gabriel headed for the buffet line to gather our meal.
They’d barely returned, setting the plates in front of us as Professor Snowthistle flitted into the hall. Her face was drawn as she made her way to the front of the space. She didn’thave to call for quiet. Everyone’s attention had gone to her the second she arrived, only the occasional sob or sniffle breaking the heavy silence. With a sad look, she cleared her throat and began calling off the names of the students who hadn’t survived the first trial. My stomach lurched, my food turning to ash on my tongue. I tried to force another bite down, and it threatened to come back up, so I pushed my plate away. Shadrie’s hand gripped my arm, her nails digging deeper into my skin with each name called. I counted them all, seventy-three students lost by the time the last name was called.
