I appeared as I was at seventeen. My face stared back at me in a cracked mirror. Two of me. One with a sneer, his eyes cold and calculating. The other stiff, his face still full of hope.
Previous generations had been bitter enemies, but Lorant and Merrick chose unity. Perhaps that's why fate had brought me this far.
Watching them now made me burn hot.
I remembered every wrong choice I'd made, how I’d turned my mouth and body into a weapon while another part of me had honed his wits to an equally sharp edge but tempered himself with a softness some said made him weak.
“What if I was never meant to be whole?” The words slipped out, hitting the air like rocks.
The two faces watched me.
Lorant’s smirked, but Merrick’s eyes didn’t judge. They held a plea. He wanted to believe I still carried him, that I hadn’t let him die when Reyla healed us.
Both of them hurt.
Reyla knelt beside me, taking my hand and linking our fingers.
So alive. So loving. The stone under my knees felt cruel in contrast.
“You are whole,” she said. “Every choice you’ve made belongs to you.Allof you. You’re the men I fell in love with. Lorant’s fire, Merrick’s calm. More than both, actually because each side of you enhances the other. It was never about losing any part of you but fusing them together to create the wonderful, amazing person you were always meant to be.”
I found no doubt in her eyes.
“Prager was harmed,” she said. “No one would deny that. Butshe stole more than she should when she sought revenge. Aricor deserved her rage, her destruction; never those who came after him. But she didn’t break you, Lore. You made something better out of what you were handed. You built a man worth following.”
The ache in my throat would not release. Air burned when I pulled it in. I stared at where her hand gripped mine and tried to keep it from shaking. “What if I lose you the way I was lost for so long?”
Rising, she wrapped her arms around me. “I'll search for you forever, Lore, and I'll find you.”
I cracked wide open, but it wasn't a breaking. She was healing me again.
The pool smoothed, finished with yanking me through a tiny hole with spiked sides.
Standing, I tugged my wildfire up and held her, my chin resting on the top of her head while her soft breath fanned my throat. The pain eased.
“There’s no escaping this test, it seems.” Dorion moved forward with Laphira, their hands meshed together.
I stepped back, taking Reyla with me.
Dorion knelt in front of the water, staring as the swirling images stabbed him deep inside. “Ah, there it is. Somehow, I knew I’d see the look in my father’s eyes when I told him we should make peace with the other courts. I'd spoken with Lore. With Laphira. We could make it work; things would be better. He laughed. Said unity was weakness. Said that he didn't recognize me as his son any longer.”
His gaze remained on the pool, and his lips thinned. Pain flashed across his face.
Because we’d both love our parents, their cruelty struck true.
“There he is,” he whispered. “Binding me with magic. Before I could blink, he threw me into the labyrinth. Never himself. Thelabyrinth only asked for devotion. Such a simple thing to give. Not for Tallin, however. I don't believe he even knew what devotion to others meant, only to himself.”
Kneeling beside him, Laphira unclenched her hands by her sides. She stared into the water, her breathing coming in jagged gasps.
“My mother told me I was a mistake,” she said. “She said she would turn me into something useful. She praised me only when I did exactly what she asked. I learned how to do whatever she wanted better than I learned what little magic I can wield.”
Dorion wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“Rebellion got me caged. Worse.” Her bark of a laugh ripped out. “The first time I said no, she twisted the word into a beast and said I’d let it loose. Said I was ungrateful. She used a spell to make me obedient. It didn’t last long. She had to keep renewing it, and she’d forget until I messed up again. That only made it worse, because then she said I’d failed her twice. Once for fighting. Once for failing to stay broken.”
Dorion's chin dropped to rest on the top of her head.
“I don’t like who I was then,” she whispered.
