Page 49 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
“But they will work on me,” Giselle said, stepping up next to them and causing Quinn to nearly jump out of her skin. “Come on, princey. The Grand Library sounds like a great idea, and I don’t mind you tagging along.”
“You are not serious,” Quinn whirled on Giselle.
“Yes, I am. If the prince insists on being a part of the investigation, it only wastes our time and energy resisting him.”
Giselle was an abnormally good judge of character. Maybe Quinn should trust her friend. “Fine.” Quinn sighed, knowing that she had lost this round.
He chuckled and grasped Quinn’s left wrist, rubbing a thumb over her tattoo as a wince prickled on his features. “I am bound from telling you the truth,” he whispered. “But I won’t prevent you from discovering it yourself.”
Thirty minutes later, Quinn stared at the Grand Library’s turrets, which climbed to the sky like claws piercing the heavens. Nerves rattled in her stomach. She’d never been in the opulent building before because she avoided reading like the plague. And she never particularly wanted to meet the Looking Glass.
The Looking Glass was the most famous mirror in the Art Sector, the part of the city filled with bohemian treasures,galleries, artists, writers, musicians, and actors—people living on the fringe. But it also housed the Mirror of Untamed Talent, known for bestowing artistic talents on those brave enough to challenge it.
Most of the mirrors were legends in the city, but the Looking Glass was probably the most iconic for its sheer size and the rumor that it was the first mirror discovered.
The Grand Library was designed to house the four-story-high mirror and was itself a grand masterpiece of architecture. Flying buttresses lined the walls with twisted, intricate designs and supported the towers, allowing them to pierce the sky. This feat of engineering was like no other.
The library rivaled the gods in technology and decor. Colonnades lined the perimeter, and sculptures of the old vampire gods were etched into each column.
Above the entrance, a sign read: With Every Death We Grow Stronger, a slogan of the old vampire gods.
Emrys cleared his throat. “Are you planning on gazing upon the building all day, or would you like to see what lies beyond?”
“I—” Quinn absentmindedly patted her skirts.
She clenched her fists and forced herself to focus on meeting the Looking Glass. An evil, vindictive mirror that killed her nightly in her sleep.
Every night, covered in blood and surrounded by screams. Every night, a different version of her parents' murders or hers. All because the Royalle House bound every citizen with their terrible deal to get electricity.
Her palms grew clammy as she stepped up to the gilded entrance. Emrys turned the handle and held open the door.
“Just don’t look at it,” Constance said, sensing Quinn’s worry. There was something almost magical about Constance’s ability to gauge when Quinn was worried, upset, or even happy, almost like she was an empath.
“You’ll be okay.” Giselle squeezed Quinn’s shoulder.
Quinn nodded and hesitantly stepped through the door, followed by her friends.
The outside of the Grand Library was nothing compared to the opulent interior. Sparkling augmented light shined patterns into the marble floor. Massive murals of the stars and the vampire gods were painted across the ceiling. Some original vampire paintings were coated over, but others remained, causing a disjointed tableau.
But the light emanating from the mirror forced her eyes toward it, despite Constance’s warning. Quinn’s jaw dropped, and her stomach grew sick with dread. The mirror’s presence pulsated energy—thick and sticky. As the jeweled centerpiece of the room, it was rimmed with gilded gold embroidery, and its molten silver surface swirled with the warm hues of dripping watercolor paint.
It was transfixing and impossible to look away from.
Quinn’s breathing turned ragged as she felt her limbs go heavy. Her heart rattled in her chest like a beast trying to escape a cage. Stuck and unable to remove her gaze. Frozen in both fear and awe. Enthralled.
In an instant, or maybe an age, Emrys appeared before her and blocked her view, his hands on her face. It took an eternity for her to blink and gain functioning over her body again.
“You looked,” he said softly with his glistening eyes that twinkled like brown sapphires at midnight.
“I—”
Fire twirled in her core. Or maybe it was butterflies. Or poison.
It was hard to tell with Emrys.
She sucked in a breath and stepped back and out of his hold. He was nearly as mesmerizing as the stupid mirror. Both made her blood boil. Averting her gaze, she noticed the statues surrounding the room of people with their heads turned up to the mirror.
“Does it turn people to stone?” Her voice shook.
