Page 37 of The Eternal Mirror
I press my fingers to the wall. Magic pulses under the surface. Old. Splintered.
My pulse kicks.
This isn’t normal.
It feels wrong in the same wayhefeels wrong. That same twisted flavor of magic I’ve come to associate with Khronus. Like the air around him is slightly warped and reality has been...edited.
A pressure builds behind my eyes, just for a second, and I swear I see a flicker of light in the corner of the corridor. It’s like a silver vein running through the stone—there, then gone.
Something is down here. Something broken.
But I don’t have time for this. Not right now.
I press the weirdness down, wrap it up in mental duct tape, shove it onto the ever-growingdeal with laterpile in my head, and move on.
Still, as I walk away, a part of me wonders if that’s exactly what Khronus wanted me to find. That corridor. That flicker of something broken.
“Choice reveals far more than chains ever could.”
God, I hate that voice in my head.
What if I’m not wandering at all? What if every step I take is one he’s already mapped?
Another corridor. Another door.
Heavy black iron and closed. Interesting.
I press my ear to the metal.
Breathing.
Slow. Ragged.
I twist the handle. It’s locked, of course. A quick spell takes care of that. The lock clicks, and I push the door open. It groans on the hinges like it’s screaming in pain.
The smell hits me first—almost choking the breath from me and making my gorge rise. It’s something I don’t ever think I will get used to: thick and sour, part man, part madness. The light is dim, and it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust. There’s no furniture, just dirty straw strewn over the stone floor.
And a man.
He’s slumped against the far wall, chained at the wrists and ankles. Thin. Gaunt. His head is down, long dark hair hiding most of his face. But he raises his head slowly as I step inside.
He has Winter’s eyes. In fact, the similarities are uncanny. They might be twins, but I know he’s a year older.
“Niall?” I say.
He blinks and then shakes his head. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“My name is Amber. I was a friend of your sister.”
His whole body stiffens. “You know Winter? Is she here?” He looks around almost wildly, as though she might appear from nowhere.
I step closer. He watches me like I might bite. Fair. I press my lips together for a second. I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I’ve got to say this. “I’m sorry, but Winter is dead.”
Shock flares on his face, followed by some other emotion that I don’t have time to recognize before it is blanked from his expression. “How? When?”
“A day ago. She was killed by Khronus’s men.”
His breath catches, but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes are bright.
