I think she suspects me. I have been trying to get closer to find evidence so I can expose her true nature. In case somethinghappens to me, please tell everyone you can that she is not who she appears to be. And if I cannot expose her true nature, then I pray to the gods that someone else can.
Judas
My blood chilled as I read over the letter a second time. Then my eyes snagged on the date scrawled at the top.
The day before my father’s death.
My hands shook, and my fingers started to tingle. I stared in horror at the red splotches on the parchment. Blood and ice, was thismy father’sblood?
Bile crept up my throat. No, no, no…
I was going to be sick.
My heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest. For a moment, I thought I might faint.
I gave my head a firm shake and gritted my teeth.This is why you’re here, Eira.Thisis the evidence you were looking for.
Blinking back tears, I kept the letter clutched in one hand and eased the hand mirror out of its hiding spot with the other.
What was so special about a hand mirror? Why did she have it hidden? It was unsettling, to look into a mirror and see nothing but a darkened room reflected back at me. My invisibility was still cloaking me, concealing me even from the mirror.
But as I gazed at it, a strange fog clouded over the glass. Words appeared in the fog, as if an invisible person were writing letters on the misty glass with their finger.
I murmured the words softly as I read them. “Magic mirror, whose glass I see, reveal and reflect the truth unto me.”
The mirror began to tremble in my hand. I almost dropped it in surprise. The handle grew hot, and I hissed in pain, prepared to set it down until I noticed a white glow forming around the glass. It ignited the room, and I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart hammering loudly in my chest. The light burned against my eyes, making me squint.
Gradually, the glow faded, and I nearly yelped in surprise at the sight of my own pale face reflected back at me. My black tresses almost blended in with the darkness of the room around me.
And I had a pair of pointed fae ears.
My breath hitched, and I quickly ran my fingers over each ear. They were round, just as they always were. Round like a human’s.
And yet, this mirror was showing what I would look like as a full-blooded fae. I blinked slowly, entranced by the vision. My skin looked softer, my eyes a brighter shade of blue instead of the pale icy color I was accustomed to. My hair was shinier, the curls a bit tighter and neater than my usual messy waves.
Never before had I looked like this, though I had often dreamed of it. My life would have been so much easier if I looked like all the other fae nobles. I would not have been scoffed at or mocked. I would have been like everyone else.
I swallowed hard, struggling to remember the task at hand. I was here to find evidence, not daydream of a life that would never be.
But curiosity burned within me. Why did Calista have this mirror? It clearly showed visions, but did it do anythingelse? And most importantly—why did she have it hidden under the false bottom of a drawer?
It had to be damning somehow. It had to be important.
Perhaps it had to do with my father’s death. Did she use this magic mirror to kill him?
I was so focused on the mirror that I didn’t hear the soft creak of the door opening behind me. During the shock of seeing my altered reflection, I had also dropped my invisibility.
It wasn’t until a thick black mist pooled into the room that I went completely rigid, horror washing over me like a bucket of ice water. A foul odor filled my nostrils. It smelled like the decaying flesh of a dead animal.
I was not alone.
“Little thief,” hissed a familiar voice. “That belongs tome.”
I froze with terror, my eyes wide as I stared at the mirror’s reflection. Behind me stood a creature who was both familiar and foreign all at once. It was my stepmother—the same blood-red lips, pointed ears, and bronze hair. But long, sharp fangs were visible between her parted lips. The whites of her eyes were gone, leaving nothing but a red abyss. Deadly claws extended from her fingers. Her skin, usually as pale as mine, was now leathery and gray.
I remembered the tales—the bedtime stories told to me as a child.
The fae who had dabbled in black magic were twisted and transformed into something horrific and unrecognizable.
