Page 64 of Beneath the Haunting Sea

He gave her a tight smile, and held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

She took his hand, and his fingers folded warm around hers, steady and certain. “Yes.”

They stepped side by side through the doorway.

She found herself in a cool, dim chamber that smelledof wine and honey, dust swirling up from the floor. The ceiling and walls disappeared into shadowy darkness, so Talia couldn’t tell how big the space really was. Tall mirrors the color of obsidian filled the room, too many for her to count. They seemed eerie, and she realized it was because they didn’t reflect anything at all.

“What is this place?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Look in the mirrorsand you’ll see.”

She stepped up to the nearest mirror.

The black glass stared back at her, impenetrable, and she held her breath. Then it wavered, and began to change.

Inside the mirror she saw the void, or rather, shefeltit, an impossible darkness where no life could possibly exist. Three Stars appeared, wheeling in that darkness, and she knew somehow she was witnessing the making of theworld. She couldn’t even comprehend it, but it was beautiful, and it made her ache.

She heard Wen’s voice as if from a great distance, felt him tugging her hand. “Come. You must not look too long.”

And she allowed him to pull her away from the mirror.

The coldness of the chamber crept into her. She stepped up to a second obsidian glass.

The mirror stared blankly back at her for a few momentsbefore the surface began to ripple, and an image shuddered into being. She saw the Tree growing beautiful and good out of the earth, its branches spread wide, fruit bursting amidst its leaves. She could smell the Tree, touch it,hearit. She thought it was singing to her. But no, those were the gods, raising their voices in the shelter of the Tree, making music to the three blazing Stars.

Andthen, Wen’s voice in her ear, his hand pulling her away: “You must not look too long.”

She looked in a third mirror, and saw mankind’s rebellion against the gods playing out before her eyes. She watched the gods uproot the Tree and fling it to the ground in their great anger. She saw men and women die, saw Blaidor weeping bitterly. Talia felt the ancient woman’s sorrow like it was her own; fierytears dripped down her cheeks.

Wen tugged her away.

She looked into a fourth mirror, and saw the gods warring over the fallen Tree. She watched Aigir claim the victory and plant the Tree anew in the midst of the ocean.

In the fifth mirror, the gods plucked two of the Stars from heaven, and Huen of the Earth and Aigir of the Sea bound them like jewels in bands of gold and silver.

On and onaround the room, Talia gazed into the mirrors. In every one she saw the myths live and burn andbe.But she never got to look her fill—Wen was always tugging her away, on to the next glass, the next bit of history.

Time fell away and the cold seeped into her bones. She forgot herself. Forgot Wen and her mother and everything else. There were only the mirrors. Only the stories unfolding beforeher eyes, the stories that had shaped the world. She felt them and knew them. She became them. She lived a thousand lives and bore a thousand sorrows. She felt the weight of time, resting wholly upon her.

And always, far away, a voice speaking her name, a hand pulling her from the living memories of what once had been. It hurt more and more every time, a dagger twisting sharp.

And then, a deepbreath, a tired focusing of her eyes.

Wen, standing before her, urgency in his gaze.

There was only one mirror left that she hadn’t looked into.

She could feel his fingers, interlaced in hers, his skin grown icy.

“This mirror is different from the others,” he said, his voice rough and hoarse. “As far as I can tell, it shows the future.”

She felt impossibly weary.

“But you must take care,Talia. The future isn’t written yet.”

There were no words—she didn’t know if she could even form any. But she nodded, her throat dry and her breaths short.

She turned to the last mirror, and looked in.

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