Page 306 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Before Nerida could answer, a new, chilling voice echoed through the room.

“So much debate. So much wasted time while your friends lose their minds day by day within the void.”

Tarly curved an arm around Nerida, and when they focused on their reflection, Tarly wasn’t holding Nerida like he was now.

“Will you let me pass?” Tarly asked.

The Dresair could wear many faces, but thesmileof one was always the same. Thrilled and primed with mockery.

“You might lose your mind too. You might never return at all.”

“I’ll take the chance.”

“You are dying, Tarly Wolverlon. You have lived beyond the days that bite should have left you with thanks to the healing magick that lays dormant within you…and because of her.” The Dresair crossed to stand in front of Nerida. “The mate who almost never was, because of a meddling Spirit.”

Tarly stilled. “What do you know about me having two mates?”

“That it is impossible. Souls have always been two halves searching for each other through eternity. There are many names for the bond when they meet across many universes.”

“But I have two… there was another before Nerida,” Tarly prompted, getting desperate for the information that he’d thought he was content not to know.

“I will offer you the answer you seek or passage through this mirror. Which will it be?”

His jaw worked. It wasn’t even a question of which he would choose. “Let me pass.”

The Dresair smiled again. “I want that.” It pointed to Nerida’s chest. Her hand rose to his mother’s pendant there from the Healers Academy on Lakelaria. Nerida cast sad hazel eyes to him.

“We need to find our friends,” he said gently, helping her remove the necklace.

The Dresair said, “Every time a healer uses their magick while wearing it, a piece of their magick embeds itself inside. It is how it knows when to change color to determine the strength of the healer.”

Tarly paused with it in his grip, uncertain now. “What can someone else do with it?” he asked.

The Dresair tilted a playful downward look at him, declining to answer.

Tarly glanced at Nerida, as it was an essence of her magick they were giving away. She answered with a nod and an assuring smile.

He threw it toward the mirror, which rippled like liquid metal as it passed through. The Dresair caught it, pocketing the necklace.

“Very well, Tarly Wolverlon.” It held out a hand, inviting him through.

Tarly turned to Nerida with his back to the mirror. He slipped his palm along her cheek and kissed her deeply.

“I love you. I’ll be right back,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Nerida tied the rope around his waist, securing it tightly. “You’d better be,” she said, but her playful words were lost to her fearful eyes. “I love you, Sully.”

Pushing his hand through the mirror was like dipping into ice water. His skin burned, but the energy within the mirror started pulling him through, and he let it.

Just before he did, the Dresair slithered one last taunt into his ear.

“Though you might just be too late to save them both.”

His body jerked as though he’d fallen into a suction void, and his limbs flailed, trying to find something to hold onto before he drifted beyond the rope’s limit.

It was the rope that saved him even though it winded him to be yanked to an abrupt halt. Then he was falling, unable to maneuver while there was no wall or celling or floor to brace for in this endless white void.

He slammed into the ground on his bad side, which threatened his consciousness for a minute. Tarly took a moment to breathe through the shooting pain that slowly numbed to a dull throbbing over the right side of his chest.

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