Page 200 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Bell adjusted her stance, bringing up her crossbow. “To the end, dearest.”
Before they could act, the guards parted, and Venus stepped forward. She was dressed in armour of shining gold, placed over a gown of peacock blue. Impractical for battle, but nevertheless intimidating.
“Sister,” she said, “place down your axe. There is no need for death.”
“You are the one that has invited death into our home, Venus.”
“I have invitedlife.You’ll see. One day you will thank me.”
“I willneverthank you for this.” She raised her axe, and for the first time, Venus’ eyes flickered with apprehension, like she doubted her own resolve.
Could Minerva do it? Harm her own sister? Even now? Even for the boy—
Venus stepped forward. “You cannot harm your own reflection.”
Minerva didn’t waver. “You and I were never made of glass,” she replied. “We are more and less than shadows and light.”
Venus raised a hand. Her guards readied their weapons. For a moment, Minerva swore she felt Bell’s fingers in hers.
“Stop!” said Flora, diving into the space between the sisters. Her eyes sought Venus out, hands appealing. “Remember our deal, Venus. You have broken others, but you swore—”
The blood in Minerva’s body ran cold. Her ears rang, certain they’d misheard.
A deal? What deal?
“I have not forgotten,” Venus replied coolly, “I am in no mood to hurt anyone, but if she resists—”
“Flora,” Minerva whispered, her voice sounding like someone else’s, “what have you done?”
“I’m sorry, old friend,” Flora answered, not meeting her in the eyes, “but I did what I had to do.”
Caer stumbled across the rooftops, wondering how Aislinn was able to navigate them so easily, to slide across tiles as slick as butter in a pan. Even Beau and Hawthorn seemed to be struggling to keep up with her, stopping several times to bend the stone of the walls into bridges across the houses when they knew they couldn’t make the jump. It was effortless, the way they commanded the stone, as simple as walking was to a sprinter.
He was grateful for the bridges, and for the slower pace they were taking. He half suspected Aislinn was hoping to get to the palace before all of them and haul the Mirror outside before he could get anywhere near it.
But she slowed as they approached the walls of the palace, resting behind a chimney and waiting for the others to catch up with her. The knights had spent some time watching the walls beforehand, pinpointing a place where the guard presence was likely to be overlooked.
It was towards the end of the wall, where the walkway ran towards the solid stone at the very end of the enormous cavern. Lookout towers were perched periodically along the wall, but it did not end with one. A guard had been placed in the remaining spot, but, like most people forced to stay in a small area for a long period of time, he was pacing up and down.
The party dropped down into the street and crossed to the other side, hugging the wall. Only Cerridwen remained, giving the signal for when the guard turned. Hawthorn nodded at Aislinn, who took a running jump into his outstretched hands. He threw her into the air. She caught the edge of the wall and deftly swept over the other side.
Beau went next, then Cerridwen told them to stop as the guard turned back.
They waited. Caer tried not to think about Aislinn on the other side, and hoped the forces had all been diverted to the main gate.
Cerridwen signalled once more for them to move. This time, Hawthorn summoned vines to assist Caer getting up to the top, which was just as well, as he was almost certain he couldn’t have made it anyway, even if he was at full strength. His chest felt tight.
He half stumbled across the walkway, sucking in his breath, and tumbled off the other side.
Beau and Aislinn reached out to grab him and yanked him behind a bush.
“Are you all right?” Aislinn mouthed.
Caer nodded, not that he was. But he wasn’t hurt. He could move.
Finally, Cerridwen and Hawthorn dropped down, neither breaking a sweat. Caer had no idea how Cerridwen managed it. It made sense that Hawthorn could—he radiated with a whispery, inhuman energy. But Cerridwen was mortal, and fully mortal, too, not enhanced by sharing her heart with a faerie like her daughter was.
“How do you do it?” he asked, gesturing to the entirety of her.
