Iago laughed. “No, that has nothing to do with poison. That’s all thanks to Niro.”
Niro? Where had she heard that name before…
And then it dawned on her.
“The god of shadow?”
Her uncle looked impressed. “Ah, you know your history! Niro is the god of shadow, indeed, and one of his lesser-known powers is forgetting. He made an entire nation forget their own goddess—that’s how powerful Niro is. I’ve been studying him for decades, trying to discover his secrets, and finally, I found this place.” He threw his hands up and spun in a circle, in perfect time with the couples twirling around them.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Issy hissed. “What are you planning to do, trap us here forever? Steal our father’s throne?”
Uncle Iago tapped her on the nose with his forefinger. “That’s precisely what I’m planning to do. It’s a perfect plan, really. No one will ever know who was responsible for the mysterious curse on the Golden Princesses, all they’ll know is that one day you never returned, and your father went mad with grief. And then my time will finally have arrived.”
Mad. Where had she heard that word?
If the people continue to consume the effected rye bread, they shall all go mad and die.
The grain. “Did you tamper with the grain so that it would make people ill?” Issy felt a sudden rush of blood to her head, making her feel faint, but she steeled herself and held her uncle’s cold gaze. “Were you trying to weaken the Southern Isle so you could swoop in and make everything better, once father was dead? Was inviting the foreign princes to visit and suggesting they try to solve the mystery your idea, too? Knowing they would become trapped in your enchantment and provoke the other kingdoms into a war?”
“You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you?” The expression on Iago’s face made Issy’s insides feel greasy and slick. She wasn’t sure whether she was about to burst into tears or vomit all over her uncle’s mirror-polished shoes. He snapped his fingers and the music stopped, the dancers halting as one. They all turned to look at Iago and Issy standing in their centre.
“Now that your little Silver friend has set foot inside the enchantment, the twelve dancers and twelve suitors are complete. A matching set. And when I leave this place and smash that mirror, you’ll be stuck in here forever. No one will be able to stop me.”
Chapter 22
Anders
Anders watched from the stage as Isadora and the older man danced, before stopping in the middle of the ballroom, like the eye of a storm. He couldn’t hear a word they were saying, but Isadora looked distraught, and the sneer on the man’s mouth made Anders’ blood boil. Who was this masked man? Could he be the one responsible for the curse?
Anders began to make his way towards them, keeping a tight hold of his shadows and dodging between dancing couples. Before he could reach them, the dancers all stopped and turned to face Isadora and the suitor. Anders could see tears glistening in Isadora’s eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to protect her from this man, but he couldn’t get through the wall of dancers without touching anyone or giving himself away.
And then the man clapped his hands and they all started to move towards Isadora, reaching for her, hands grabbing and pulling. In the maelstrom, the man slipped out of the melee and tore off his mask, casting it to the ground before dashing towards the exit.
Anders looked from the fleeing man to Isadora, being attacked by entranced dancers. What should he do? Shescreamed and he made up his mind, he began to fight his way towards her.
“Livia! Follow him!” He shouted over the furore to the younger Princess, who had hung back and now watched the scene before her with abstract terror on her face. “I’ll save Isadora. You follow that man!”
Livia finally tore her gaze away from the dancers and nodded; she sprinted out of the castle into the dark night.
Anders began tearing bodies off Isadora, throwing dancers and suitors alike to the side until he could get to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out—fortunately, there was barely a mark on her. Then they ran.
“We have to stop him!” Isadora shouted. “He’s going to destroy the mirror and trap us in here forever.”
Anders pushed harder and burst out into the darkness to see one of the little boats sailing away across the water. The ear-piercing scream that reached them from the middle of the expanse of water gave Anders chills.
“Livia!” Isadora yelled, diving for the nearest boat. A crackle of lightning splintered the dark sky and struck the water close to the distant boat that carried her sister away. In the flash of light, Anders could see Livia struggling with the man who’d been dancing with Isadora.
Anders grabbed her arm. “No, Issy, there are no oars. It’s too slow. I can save her. Trust me.”
Isadora only hesitated for a second, studying his face. She nodded, finally. “Go.”
Anders threw his jacket to the ground and kicked off his shoes. He’d swum in cold water plenty of times before, the sun never had a chance to warm the lakes and pools in the Northern Isle. It would be just like an early morning, summer swim in D’Argentis.
He steeled himself, took a deep breath, and dove in.
The water slammed into him like a block of ice, knocking the wind out of him and freezing him to the core. He swung his arms and kicked his legs, desperate to reach Livia before the villain could do her any more harm. Thankfully, the boat was still moving slowly, so it wasn’t hard for Anders to catch up. He reached them in a few strong strokes and grabbed Livia’s arm, but the older man took hold of her other arm and they tussled. Livia sobbed, begging the man to let her go. Or was it Anders she wanted to let go?
When Livia’s fingers slipped from his grasp, the unmasked man just smirked at Anders as she tumbled towards him, straight out of the boat and into the water.
