Page 52 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
Days drifted in a song-like cadence. More often than not, Lyra was with Lord Pelgrin and Lady Velune, while the guards roamed, keeping out of the way of the crew yet watching for trouble. The constant movement of the ship took getting used to, but I loved leaning out over the railing while the sea spray dampened my face and the wind tossed my curls. Peace filled me when I watched the waves roll to and fro and it was easy to believe everything would turn out for the best.
Methrin and I met on deck every evening after the last meal to practice. I learned how to pull a shard from a mirror without slicing open my palm. Methrin taught me how to fling mirror shards from my fingertips, like tiny arrows, and one evening we caught a pool of fish. Methrin jumped in with the crew to collect the fish and they were roasted and eaten as a midnight treat.
I learned how to pull moisture from the air and encase someone in glass, freezing them in place until the spell wore off. Finally, Methrin taught me how to find others based on the trace of magic left for them. It was something those with and without magic could use but for me it was listening, sitting, meditating, being aware of those around me and their essence.
I found Lyra first.
With my eyes closed I could see the outline of her body, a green halo of magic surrounding her. Methrin was harder to find, and he hid from me, instructing me to find him based on magic. I sensed his essence, shimmers of gold that flickered, a pure, bright color. But finding him was impossible. I had yet to link together the awareness of knowing someone had magic withalso finding them. Nor did I understand how to create a mirror at their location and step through to find them.
Methrin encouraged me, telling me it would come in time, but for the first time, I saw my future and understood his past. He’d led armies, all enemies had fallen on his feet because of his dominance, his vicious control of Mirror Magic. In those days, the Everminati of the Moon had no enemies because he vanquished them all. He was well-respected, honored both at home—for winning—and abroad—for his cruelty. But once the campaigns were done and peace was secured, once arms were laid down and it was time to return home, boredom sank in. He wanted to use it, to control it, to test the limits of his magic. His actions became dangerous, often hurting citizens of the kingdom. But he was still a prince, still a hero and there was a chance he might overcome the Shadow. After all, no one had seen Mirror Magic as powerful as his. They hoped until he became too chaotic, to volatile and cast him out.
I listened to his stories, aware they were a warning, a reminder not to sink too deeply into the use of Mirror Magic. But it was all I had. It not only gave me protection, it also gave me a purpose, a reason. Besides, I was good at it. Energy burned through my veins, filling me with a euphoria each time I was successful. Even more satisfying was Methrin’s surprise. I wanted to bask in his appraisal and become even better so that he’d be proud of me. It was tempting during daylight and also because each time I used Mirror Magic, the shadow appeared. Now when I turned my face toward it, itremained visible instead of flickering away. And it whispered in my mind. Daily.
I wanted to tell Methrin, but I was also afraid he’d make us stop, and I didn’t want to stop the one thing that gave me power, that made me feel close to him.
“Morning Esmira,” Lyra called, weaving across the deck to join me.
In the early dawn, mist curled like fingers from the water and the crew fished, releasing the smaller fish while saving the larger ones for breakfast. They rolled them in leaves and cooked it with some bright orange fruit called a plantain. As simple as the food was, it was the best I’d ever tasted, hot, delicious, buttery, and melting on my tongue. I’d grown to love the early mornings, the cadence of song on the boat as the crew worked, the steady pacing of the guards and the ripples in the water as fish jumped.
Best of all was the endless sky a blend of colors that took my breath away. Gone was the hazy purple shimmer, the terrifying lightning from the Boundary. Instead was a slow shift of pink, gold all deepening into an impossible blue.
“Lyra.” I smiled at her and a warm happiness spread through me like the first ray of sunshine after a long, cold winter.
You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after you left them to die.
Lyra touched my arm. “What is it? You look at though you saw something disturbing.”
I didn’t want to lie to her but I wasn’t sure how to speak about the shadow. “On mornings like these I feel happy yet guilty. Back home everyone is suffering, my father, my cousin, they must be worried about me. Yet I’m here, realms beyond realms with no idea how to get back home, but it doesn’t worry me.”
“I have the same guilt,” Lyra admitted. “Father never wanted me to come here. I wondered if he was afraid of what I might discover or because there’s a reason he fled the realm with Prince Methrin. But now that I’m here, learning from historians and the great seer herself, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Even with this quest?”
Lyra frowned. “This ship is a reprieve from the quest, a chance for you to learn Mirror Magic and for me to understand the Everminati. I don’t think either of us know how dangerous this journey might end up being. There’s an ancientness to the air, an old hunger and a discordant hum. Unlike our realm which is balanced, something here is off, almost diseased. I don’t know whether it’s the loss of magic causing the imbalance or something else, but I hear the hum. Something is wrong here and it make me wonder.”
It made me wonder too. “Lyra, what have you learned from the Everminati?”
She glanced around to ensure no one else was close enough to eavesdrop, then lowered her voice. “Age hasmade them wise, it’s hard to attain clear answers to my questions but I’ve learned my father was eccentric, he experimented on those with magic, especially those with wild, volatile magic that couldn’t be cured.”
Prince Methrin.
I lowered my voice. “Why did he leave? Were his experiments unorthodox?”
Lyra shrugged. “I hope not. My father has changed in many years, but they only knew him from before and they are careful not to speak too much about him. I also learned that Prince Methrin was a hero. Apparently he fought in many wars to clear the borders of their enemies. If fact, the common enemy of the Evermianti are the Soul Stealers. They live far beyond the borders, often across great bodies of water, however they are not immortal, but they have devised a way to live longer by drinking the blood of the Everminati.”
“That is despicable,” I gasped.
Lyra nodded. “Yes, there used to be trouble with them, whole cities falling to the bloodthirsty horde, until Prince Methrin waged war against them with Mirror Magic. It’s been seventy years since the last recorded death.”
Seventy years. It put into perspective Methrin’s agelessness. I leaned closer, eager for knowledge. “What else have you learned?”
Lyra pressed her hand over mine. “Beware of darkness. We are going to the Moon Temples where the priestesses give their entire lives over to the worship of Nocthera. Something is very wrong indeed if she has forsaken the Evermanti and taken their magic. Eitherthey have done something to offend her or a terrible evil has befallen her.”
“But a goddess is all powerful,” I protested. “How could something evil befall her?”
Lyra turned her gaze toward the waters. “We will find out. I hope I am wrong but this feeling of wrongness, I can’t shake it. But enough doom and gloom, what about you? You’ve been training hard with Prince Methrin.”
“I’m learning, every day it’s easier.”
