Page 205 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
And Venus’ forces swamped them.
What felt like her entire army spilled into the room. Minerva was there too, bound and chained, the others beside her. Within seconds, Hawthorn, Beau and Aislinn were among them.
“Don’t kill them,” Aeron said, stumbling out of the vault, bruised and bloodied but alive. Cerridwen followed, wrapped in chains, spitting out blood. “I want them to see this.”
“Caer!” Aislinn screamed. “Don’t do this!” she hissed, as Aeron had them dragged towards the vault once more. “Please. I’ll do anything—”
“You know, I believe you will,” Aeron said, smiling despite the bloody gash in his cheek. “But unfortunately, Princess, there’s absolutely nothing you can give me.”
Aislinn’s gaze darkened. “I’ll kill you,” she said. “I vow it. I’m getting out of here, and I’m going to kill you.”
Aeron laughed. Through the crowds, Owen appeared, white-faced, haggard. He caught Caer’s gaze.
“You’ll be all right, son,” he said. “You’re strong. You’ll survive this. And we’ll have your mother back.”
Venus snorted derisively, as if Owen was a fool if he still thought that.
Caer wanted to curse him—to curse anyone, everyone—but he no longer had the strength to speak. He was hauled backwards—into the coffin that had once housed Cerridwen.
“A precaution,” Aeron explained. “In case your mortal body doesn’t survive the journey.”
Caer frowned. Where was he going? Owen and all his men had stepped through the Mirror perfectly—
Hands forced him back. The lid of the coffin sealed around him.
The last thing he saw was Aislinn screaming his name.
The moment the coffin vanished in the black waters of the Mirror, a sharp blast blew across the room, knocking everyone off their feet. Aislinn was blown into a thick pile of coins. She felt the impact of the metal, and nothing else. For a moment, she was weightless, senseless. Noise vanished.
When at last sensation returned, and she staggered to her feet, she found Hawthorn and Beau already righting themselves, no doubt their advanced healing giving them the extra edge. Aeron was moving too, bleeding, but moving.
Something pulsed inside her.
Magic.
The blast—it had damaged the barrier.
Hawthorn realised it too. He summoned a wave of fire over the room, burning anyone able to stand, and Aislinn used her own more limited skills to unlock her manacles.
She raced towards the Mirror. The blackness rose up to greet her.
She cast one final, desperate, hesitant look around the room—and caught her father’s gaze. He looked at her with an expression of horror, mingled with that of quiet, dreadful understanding. He knew why she had to go. He would not stop her.
She took a deep breath, and plunged into the Mirror.
Greyness flickered around her, like walking through a fog. There was nothing real here, nothing palpable. Even the floor beneath her felt like air.
Whispers echoed around her. Cries. Voices. A thousand, a million words and people, merged and meshed together.
“How could you!”
“You promised!”
“You’ll regret this.”
“Stay with me.”
“Not my baby. Please, not my baby.”
