Page 37
“Hey, old man,” I say to the vampire, “how many turns do you think we’ve made?”
He doesn’t answer because he’s staring at his mirror-fucker, his expression a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “I do not like how this is playing out, and I definitely do not enjoy having one of these again. How very surprising.”
Tiernan prods him in the back gently. “Don’t engage with it, mosquito. We know they’re supposed to make us mad so Knuckles goes bonkers.”
Duh. We all know that.
Dezi clears his throat, making us all stop to listen. “This part of the hallway is different. My reflection has changed. That’s why I was staring,” he says. “It’s cycling the sigils from before, but now they’re inverted.”
I don’t know what that means to vampires, but in Fae magic that’s extremely significant. I assume it is for witches as well because Sassy scowls darkly. I cough and ask, “Are they worse inverted or…?”
Khol shifts behind me, a low growl in his throat. “Who cares? It’s not like either way is good, right? It’s probably hoping to pick us off one by one.”
“I care, snakelet.” Dezi studies the Bizarro Vamps, his expression serious. “Blood magic is dangerous and unpredictable when practiced by amateurs. We do not know who placed these spells and if they were experienced casters or some half-assed hireling. If they did not pay for the former, this change could even be unintentional.”
“Intention is super important in spells,” Fiadh says as she frowns. “That’s true for Fae as well, isn’t it, Rev? If so, screwing that up would affect their spellwork and the blood magic.”
“Yes, witchling.” Dezi smiles thinly. “Which is why I wanted to make us all aware that whatever the Midnight court who created this trial may believe they created in this section, it could have taken on a very different tenor if their hired vampires made mistakes.”
The way the corridor ahead bends is unnatural, and I consider that along with Dezi’s words. Looking at my family, I say, “We have to be really careful if that’s true. Accidentally inverting things in multiple magics, if true, will make it almost impossible to know exactly what the shit anything we see means. No jumping to conclusions and attacking—only defend.”
Everyone nods, and we walk again. The bent hallway is fine for a while, but then it happens. Tiernan hesitates a half-beat too long, caught in the reflection's eyes for a second and the floor drops beneath him. It’s only a step, just enough for his boot to catch air instead of glass, but he barely avoids falling into a trapdoor.
The mirrors don’t laugh, but our evil reflections do, multiplied and multiplied until it’s a wall of bared teeth and nothing else.
Fiadh’s mark pulses harder this time. The glass nearest her fractures—not a full break, just a splintering like ice on a pond. A shimmer of crescent blue flares into the air, and the corridor’s aggression slackens. “Damnit, I was asking nicely!” she whines as she looks at me.
I shrug, sighing deeply. “You and your magic are still learning to trust one another, Sassy. Sometimes, you won’t agree and it will cause problems until you both feel certain about one another. I’ve had centuries to get mine on my side; don’t feel bad.”
She gives me a baleful look as she turns on her heel to continue down the hall, and the rest of us pick up the pace to follow her.
I’d be proud of her working so hard, but the magic acting up so violently is draining her. Her skin is pale white, and under her eyes it is dark as if bruised. As I think that, she staggers, and both Tiernan and Dezi move quickly to catch her. She shrugs them off with a snarl.
“I’m fine,” she hisses. “I just need to keep moving. Don’t let this bullshit know I’m even a tiny smidgen weaker than when I walked in. It will take advantage of me immediately.”
Nobody argues her point because she’s definitely right.
Instead, I walk over and take her away from the vamp and the leopard. Putting my arm around her waist, I lean in to whisper in her ear. “You can siphon some energy off through our bond, lass. If we’re touching, it will be easier for me to share, so don’t throw a fit about leaning on me, okay?”
Her sigh is both frustrated and tired, but she nods. “Okay, Rev. But only because I don’t want these fuckers to win, and if I didn’t want to bother before, they’re making me want to claim this fucking destiny just to shove it up those royal sadists’ asses.”
Ah, that’s my girl, and her fire.
Together, we make the next turn, and suddenly the corridor opens into a chamber the size of a freight elevator, with mirrors on all sides—even the floor and ceiling. The reflections here are even worse; instead of showing fucked up versions of us taunting, they show terrible scenes. Tiernan with his arms full of a bleeding child, screaming into the void; Khol standing over Fiadh’s corpse, hands covered in venom and tears; Dezi, alone in a room full of dust and empty wine bottles, staring into nothing; Fiadh, on the Midnight throne, the only survivor in a hall of ghosts.
Me? I’m on that damn throne again, laughing crazily as my family lies broken and bloody on the floor and the court claps. It hurts to see myself in my father’s image; I wish it didn’t, but it does.
The chamber is soundless, but I can feel the pressure of our fears closing in on all of us simultaneously.
This cannot be our future. The bad guys will not win—not like this, not ever.
Nineteen
FIADH
“Be gone, false prophecies!” I scream, unsure where the words even came from, but certain they are what I need to dispel this nightmare. The world resets with a noise like teeth cracking in a cold room, and I know my gut was right.
Fucking Fae.
