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“I’m fine,” I manage, though the room is tilting and I feel like I’ve aged a decade in a minute. “Let’s go before these assholes free themselves and we have to fight them off.”
Khol is the last to leave, glaring at his own half-shifted mirror until it fades. “Next time,” he says to the maze, “try not to suck at being me so badly. I would have had her statued in less than ten seconds, dumbass.”
Isn’t that good to know?
Eighteen
REVELIN
The darkness isn’t static here.
It’s cold, heavy, and charged with the anticipation of teeth closing over a pulse. The corridor is just wide enough that I have to tuck in my elbows, one shoulder always ghosting the glassy wall. The mirrors run in a single, endless strip, warping up overhead, so we walk inside a throat made from our own bad dreams.
I don’t like this one fucking bit, but at least I’m not watching my Bizarro Self fail to sing like a loser. Anything’s better than that—my nerves are still sandpapered from the chafing of that nightmare. But then the corridor reacts as Khol finally comes through, sealing off the door behind us and lighting up so we can see the entire thing is lined with those goddamn ‘fear mirrors’.
Every inch of mirrored surface comes alive with the vampire’s reflection, fracturing him into a thousand Dezis, each with a different predator’s smile. He notices immediately because that’s not possible. We saw it before; he doesn’t reflect. The ancient’s stride never breaks as he joins Sassypants, Tier, and me, but the startling blue of his eyes catalogues angles like a man who’s spent centuries learning every trick a trap can pull.
“This isn’t real,” I mutter.
Khol gives me a wry expression, and it’s Fiadh who finally says, “Maybe they’re not made of silver. If the mirrors are made of something else and they use magic to mimic reflective properties…”
I blink. “Damn. Good catch, lass. That might give the old sod a reflection for the first time since someone turned his tight ass. Science and magic for the win, I suppose.”
Tiernan’s image flashes next to the vampire. It’s stretched, big kitty-fied, and has pupils so wide the icy blue is nearly gone. I almost laugh, but the echo is too raw, and I know the maze is getting to him already. Tier doesn’t enjoy being toyed with, and this place is doing nothing but that over and over. If we don’t get out soon, he may be the next temper to flare like the basilisk.
Speaking of him, his reflection doesn’t just warp—it splits, serpent and human flickering together again. He’s breathing hard, his jaw clenched, and the scales creep higher up his neck than I’ve ever seen outside a fight. He’s trying hard not to shift into a serpent much bigger than we have room for in this damn hallway, and I admire his control.
The mirrors don’t know what to do with our mate this time. In some panels she’s tiny and furious, looking like a child who can’t defend herself. In others she’s tall and regal, like a royal trying to scare their court into silence. The only constant is the crescent moon pulsing on her palm, burning blue whenever her hand grazes the wall.
Neither of those images is one that makes her happy; that much is obvious by the charge in the air.
When I look left, my scary reflection almost knocks the air out of me. This time, there’s a version of me in full regalia, the Daybreak golden crown set just off-kilter, and I’m making a face I’ve seen my father make a million times. It’s cruel and devoid of any emotion other than sadistic glee, which means I’ve committed some sort of atrocity. At least, that’s what the expression means when he does it, and I swallow hard as fear grips my insides and twists.
I cannot turn into that man—never. I’ll die first, and that’s almost impossible for my kind.
“Charming,” I choke out, and the corridor throws my words back at me, the echoes getting sharper and meaner until they’re not my voice at all.
Fiadh lashes out at my smirking avatar, punching the wall with a vicious growl. The corridor doesn’t just shiver; it flinches. Her crescent mark lights up, and the veins in her hand follow suit, blue-white and blinding. My mirror image disappears, revealing another part of the hall with a sharp turn.
Her knees almost buckle from the energy it takes, and Tiernan is on her in a flash, steadying her elbow. “Are you okay? I don’t like how this place is fucking with you, Knuckles.”
“Yeah,” she breathes, “I just need—” She doesn’t finish because the leopard is already wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. “Thanks.”
Dezi looks deep into her eyes as he approaches. “It’s feeding on you,” he says. “You must control the magic that is now whipping through you so the maze cannot drain you dry. Use the sigil on your palm as a focus point, right, Your Highness?”
I nod, able to breathe now that I’m not looking at my biggest fear mocking me. “The bloodsucker is probably right, though I’d add that you need to keep talking to the released magic in your mind, even when you don’t need its help. You didn’t have a childhood full of learning to co-exist together, and you have to nurture that bond as much as possible now.”
Fi nods as she leans on Tier. “I have to make nice with it without asking for help, yeah?”
My smile is fond as I walk over to cup her face, grateful for the assist. “Yes. Just like you did with us, but your magic will not chase you like we did. It will make you chase it. So don’t be… too sassy. Okay?”
“I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but I’m highly offended.”
Sure, she is. And I’ve got a bridge to sell you in a swamp at the edge of the Daybreak Court.
The further down the alternative path we go, the less the corridor behaves like a corridor. The mirrors ripple in slow-motion, like they’re melting. Sometimes, the remaining reflected group gets ahead of us, and sometimes it lags. They taunt the others mercilessly, and I have to remind our mate that she cannot destroy them unless we’re certain she won’t get whammied again.
Sassy is vibrating with anger by the time the path narrows again. Khol is wedged behind me, every muscle in his chest knotted as he stays on edge so he can keep her from reacting to the stupid illusions.
