Isadora’s shrieking seemed even louder than before. “She can’t swim!”
Anders took a lungful of air and submerged himself completely, groping around for Livia’s flailing form. It was pitch black in the water, the moonlight didn’t reach beneath the surface. But after a few agonising seconds, he felt cool fingers close around his own, and he pulled Livia up to the surface, where they both gasped for breath. She coughed and spluttered, but no real harm had been done. Anders hooked her arms over his shoulders and swam with her to the shore where Isadora waited, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Liv, are you alright?” She threw her arms around her younger sister, holding her tight to her chest.
Livia coughed. “I’m alright. Thanks to Anders.”
Both girls smiled gratefully at him, but there wasn’t time to celebrate.
“We need to get back to the mirror before Uncle Iago breaks it,” Isadora said, and they nodded. This time, they all climbed into the same boat, knees pressed together, huddling for warmth, and the boat made its way across to the opposite side and the mirror at the top of the stone tower.
Anders sprintedto the top of the stairs where they had stepped through the mirror, his heart hammering in his chest, his shirt and trousers heavy with moisture, shadows discarded. There was no need for them now.
He pushed his legs to move faster, he had to get there before the Duke shattered the glass and trapped them in this strange, magical realm for eternity.
He climbed another floor, and another, passing lantern after lantern. Had there been this many steps when they’d walked down? He hadn’t remembered the tower being so tall. He couldn’t see any light at the top where the entrance to the Princesses’ bedrooms should have been.
Another floor higher, and he stopped. What was this, some sort of never-ending staircase spell? He wouldn’t have believed it a week ago, but the things he’d seen in the past few days made him question everything. He turned and ran down the steps, but he’d barely taken two floors when the lake reappeared and he found Isadora and Livia huddling together at the bottom of the tower, waiting.
“Did Uncle Iago get away?” Livia asked, her throat thick with tears.
Anders lowered his head. “It looks that way. The stairs go on forever, there’s no top—no mirror.”
Livia’s face crumpled and tears splashed onto her already soaked gown. But Issy’s expression hardened. “What do we do?”
Anders shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’m not familiar with magic. Other than my shadows.”
“Do you think they could work? Perhaps, if you cloaked yourself, the staircase would be tricked into letting you reach the top?”
Anders fought to keep his expression from giving him away, but he was impressed. Isadora’s suggestion could work. “That’s a good idea. I’ll give that a try.”
Once more, he gritted his teeth, fighting the nausea, and let his shadows consume him. The smell of singed hair and burnt flesh filled his nostrils, and the screams of his comrades pierced his eardrums, but Anders pushed the memories down. He had no choice, he had to do this. He had to save Isadora and her sister from this curse before something terrible happened and they were forever trapped in the dark underworld.
He wasn’t concerned for himself, he’d lived enough of his life in darkness, it felt like a second home to him. But Isadora deserved to live in the light and warmth of the sun for the rest of her days. The way her tanned skin glowed and her hair shone, catching the sun’s rays and reflecting them like a prism, it was a sight he couldn’t live without.
Something had bloomed inside him over the past few days, something new and fragile. He wasn’t quite ready to identify it, but he knew he wanted to protect it.
He took the steps two at a time, trying to catch the enchantment off guard and reach the top before it realised he was there. But no matter how many steps he ran up, there were always more above. After running for several minutes and getting nowhere nearer to the mirror, Anders turned around and was back in front of the Princesses in just a dozen steps.
“I guess shadow magic won’t work then.” The disappointment in Livia’s tone tore at Ander’s heart. But the expression dawning on Isadora’s face made him pause.
“What is it?”
She shook her head. “Of course shadow magic won’t work. This place is built from the stuff, it’s probably absorbing your powers, Anders. Feeding on them.”
She was right. They would get nowhere fighting shadows with shadows. What they needed was light.
Something Amma had said nagged at the back of Anders’ mind.
Maia blessed the people with her warmth and radiance.
If Niro was the god of shadow, and Maia was the goddess of light, then she was who they needed to escape the Duke’s dark curse. But how to summon her power and destroy the shadow realm?
Anders scratched his jaw and started to pace, casting his mind back to the stories his mother used to tell during the Longest Night. She’d spoken of the gods, but Anders had always assumed they were allegories. Perhaps they were, but the magic was real, so whatever the hidden meaning of the stories was, it clearly had some basis in reality. And if shadow magic truly existed, then so did light magic. He was sure of it.
“What are you thinking?” Isadora asked, hope beginning to shimmer in her dark eyes.
“I remembered something my mother told me. About Maia and Niro.”
