Page 38

After the endless echo-chamber of mirrors, it takes a second to realize the previous space is gone—no glass, no ghosts, just open space ringed with structures that catch the light and shred it into shards. The floor is glassy but not glass—it’s too fractured. The only word that comes close is crystalline, but even that feels like an insult to the geometry unfolding before me. Every step makes the floor ripple, and the patterns beneath my feet reverberate with a soft, whispery snap.

This is gonna give me fucking vertigo, I swear to the goddesses.

My head is swimming with magic and exhaustion that I can barely grasp. The crescent mark on my palm is a live wire, throbbing bright and blue with every heartbeat, and I feel my magic surging in dangerous eddies just under my skin. It’s like my body is the only dam holding back a reservoir that wants to flood everything in sight. Each inhale hurts, and the air tastes faintly of trickery.

Behind me, my family scrapes together what’s left of their dignity as they adjust to the new reality. Tiernan checks corners, one hand ready to pull his weapon. He was shaken by the final imagery, but he’s back to his calm facade as he assesses our new situation.

Khol is still half-shifted and looking as if he’s going to make good on his promise to eat the next person who screws with us. Whenever the room flickers—like it currently is about every other second—scales flash up his neck, cluster at his jaw, then fade. His eyes are slit-pupiled and vicious, the whites gone to a sickly yellow.

My prince is holding onto me, and every so often he sends energy to me through the bond that helps me balance myself for a short while. He’s singing under his breath—a fragment of something catchy but mangled, the way a radio loses reception in a thunderstorm. He’s nervous, which means we all should be.

Turning to look at the vampire, I note Dezi is back to looking like he’s never been concerned in his entire afterlife. He’s projecting a practiced image—all coat and shadow with a cold, bemused smile. His fingers are already tracing over the walls, examining the crystal formations with a curiosity that borders on obsession. Worry about the lack of skill of the blood mage vamp is consuming him, though I doubt anyone looking in from the outside would know it. Only those of us who know how difficult it is to ruffle the ancient bloodsucker realize he is hyper-fixated on making sure it cannot harm us.

We’re all on the edge of our seats waiting for whatever tries to kill us next and I’m tired of this shit.

“What the fuck?” I mutter, as I stare at the floor. The patterns have gone wild—no more geometric symmetry, just chaos, like the crash after a flood of energy drinks. “Between this and the damn imagery, I’m gonna hurl all over our fancy shoes.”

“The architecture is responding to something or someone,” Dezi muses, as if we’re in a lab instead of a deathtrap. “Maybe a bit like that movie about paranormal fighters you enjoy?”

His eyes cut to me, and I don’t need to ask what he means. The crescent mark is burning now, the glow leaking through my glove, painting the nearest crystals with blue fire. However, I didn’t need it to know what he meant—his Ghostbusters reference was enough for me to get it.

“Are you summoning a fucking giant marshmallow dude or something?” Revelin asks, voice just above a whisper. “Because I hate them, and the mosquito is going to be pissed if he ends up covered in that shit.”

I shake my head, holding up my free hand in supplication. “Well, now I’m thinking about it, dumbass! Before I was just thinking that the floor waving made me a bit nauseous!”

The damage is done, unfortunately, so I try to move my thoughts to anything else in the entire world but movies full of shit that will kill us.

But the room isn’t having my quick change; no, it’s following every vibe it can like a predator. The formations closest to me are humming, faint but distinct, and their colors shift—red to violet, yellow to a glassy white, then to deep, oceanic blue. It’s like the entire chamber is a mood ring, and I’m the only one with feelings worth measuring. The pressure is making my brain spin out in a panic, rapidly filing through images both safe and unsafe, as I try not to fuck this up.

Khol puts a hand on my shoulder, steadying me when the floor does another lazy tilt. His fingers are warm, and where they touch, I feel the prickle of his snake nudging our bond. “Relax, Sassy. You have to stop wigging out or we’re really going to be in trouble. Your scent is full of fear and panic, so I know your mind is, too.”

“I’m trying,” I grit out desperately, my voice cracking on the last syllable. “But it’s fucking impossible not to think of shit when someone says don’t think about it, you know? Plus, I’m tired, and my magic is both pouty and furious. The blend of all that plus adrenaline is… really goddamn hard.”

The snarky basilisk grunts, and his lips twitch in something that’s probably supposed to be a smile. “Still a smartass, despite it all. That tells me we’re gonna get through this bullshit, even if you do conjure up a sewer clown or something.”

My eyes widen and I make a strangled sound, as that picture immediately fills my thoughts.

Dezi sighs in irritation and looks at all the other men. “Stop giving her more input for the magic to cling to. If you don’t⁠—”

Clown-ish laughter echoes and a misty, yet creepily familiar being appears across the room. Revelin yelps, letting go of my arm and hiding behind me much like he did when we watched that movie on the bus. His phobia aside, I could murder my sexy snake man for mentioning it. Khol snorts, covering his mouth as he tries not to make Rev feel worse, and Dezi groans.

This is only going to get worse; none of us will be able to keep our minds completely blank for long.

“I’m getting us out of here if it fucking kills me,” the snow leopard growls. He’s looking for exits, but the room is purposely not making it easy. Every wall is a mess of crystal branches—some thin as a toothpick, others thick enough to make furniture. No doors, no windows, just a big sphere with all this fucking lame trickery and illusion like a carnival.

“Damn clown might be appropriate for this shit,” he says finally. “I don’t like this because every new challenge is herding us to a specific place like we’re in a video game. You know… like it’s all a dungeon maze ending in a big boss.”

“I thought anything would be better than that mirror maze,” Revelin mutters. “But I was definitely wrong.” He shudders behind me and I have to resist laughing as well. I don’t know why clowns freak him out so much, but I don’t want to be insensitive. I’m no good with spiders, so we all have shit.

However, it is a wee bit funny in this place and this situation, so I’m struggling.

Dezi goes back to staring at the walls, and Tier keeps searching. Khol is holding the evil, big-headed clown at bay now by slowly turning it to stone. It’s a good solution, and I’m really glad he thought of it so we can get Revelin back to his usual sarcastic, yet helpful self. We need him—especially me—and this distraction is making it hard to stop the draining effect this place is having on me.

“Anyone? Anyone? Don’t make me say it,” I grumble as I look at the two men in charge of escaping this fucking room. “I need Rev back in reality, and we need to get out of here to continue. What do you have?”

Dezi gestures for me to come over, and I nearly trip over my own feet in my hurry to see what he’s looking at. Revelin damn near squeaks, and Khol grunts as he looks at the prince with a glare.

“I’m working on it, man. Get it together. This fucker is almost a monument, okay?”