Page 9 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
I was on my feet in a moment. Skirts in hand, I dashed toward the doors, kicking one of the mirrors in an attempt to slow him down. It crashed behind me, sending a cacophony of thunderous booms as mirror after mirror collided and shattered behind me. The roar of resounding noise made my ears ring. My hands glowed like embers, the tingling so intense it felt as though they would burst into flames.
My slippered feet slid on glass and I tripped. I threw my hands out to catch myself but instead of falling, Ismacked into a sheer wall of glass. Dizzy, I stepped back, bumping into another wall of glass. I spun but there was another wall of glass, weaving around me wrought by magic I’d never seen before. The prison of glass rose to my neck, then stopped, entrapping me inside its casing.
The Wicked Prince appeared on the other side, fingers silver, still glowing with magic. A cruel smile covered his perfect lips. “You shouldn’t have run, someone will have heard all that noise and will come searching, which means we’re out of time. I wanted to do this nicely but you panicked and fled, as all who hear my name do. It is only right. But you have Mirror Magic, you came looking for me, I felt it from the other side of the mirror. I suspect I need your knowledge and you need my help, so you’re coming with me.”
“No, please don’t . . .” I started, but he touched my face, one finger on my temple, another along my jaw. Something rippled across my face, sucking, pulling deep, and I slipped into blackness.
4
ESMIRA
Iawoke to a stale taste in my mouth, the scent of seasoned wood, the fragrance of spring flowers, and a chill. My skin was cold and I lay on a hard surface which gently rocked back and forth. I sat up, aware of the embrace of darkness and the glimmer of starlight.
It was almost as though I were back at the Night Market, enjoying the festivities. Except glittering eyes hovered above me and a shadow took shape. My breath caught. It was the shadow from the other side of the mirror.
“If you scream, they will find us,” the shadow cautioned, holding up a gloved hand to silence me.
Those accented syllables told me it washim.
I’d been stolen by the Wicked Prince of Mirrors.
Any thought I had of crying for help faded, for it was my intent to flee the palace. But not like this. Not with him.
Without a word I turned and jumped over the side of the boat.
Cold, clammy water surged around my legs and all my inadequacies surfaced. I’d grown up in the palace, surrounded by everything I needed. I’d never known a moment of hunger, had always been dressed in fine clothes. I wasn’t expected to make my own meals and had no firsthand knowledge of cooking, gardening, hunting, or even starting a fire. I was a princess, a pretty shell used to taking, not giving. No wonder my father, a warlord, had laughed at me. I was good for nothing more than a marriage to a future king.
“You’ll catch your death in there,” the Prince said dryly. “I’m aware you aren’t keen to join my company, I assure you, the feeling is mutual. But unless I am mistaken, Mirror Magic is a crime, punishable by death. So die in the waters or die when they find you. Or you can let me help you.”
Splintered wood stabbed against my palms as I gripped the edge of the boat, aware that the waters were too deep, the night too black. I couldn’t swim nor had I any idea which direction the shore lay. I could only assume the Prince was taking me away from the palace, which was what I wanted. Still, the words slipped from my lips, my fear rising. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”
A sound I could not decipher passed between his lips, his words hard. “How will it look if those in power find the shattered mirror and then your body floating in the river? They will hunt for both of us and I have many questions for you, so no, I will not be killing you.”
The cold water surged around me, numbing myskin, making my bones hurt and setting my teeth on edge. I recognized my stupidity. If my father were in my place, he’d make a bargain, not take deathly actions. “If I give you answers, will you promise not to hurt me?”
“Is that the deal you wish to make?”
He was laughing at me.
“For now,” I said, unable to keep my teeth from chattering.
“Then we are agreed.”
Leaning over he gripped my forearm with surprising strength and hauled me out of the water. I tumbled into the boat, trembling with cold, miserably wishing I’d thought first before taking action. My silk dress clung to my skin and I tried to rearrange it over my body, more to keep out the cold than to preserve my modesty.
Something struck me in the chest. A mewl of protest left my lips and I threw out my hands, intending to fling the object away from me, only to discover it was some sort of blanket.
“I suggest trading your wet clothes for the cloak,” instructed the Prince. “We have a long journey ahead.”
I turned my back on him, heat flaming my cheeks as I peeled off the wet dress and covered myself with the cloak. It was overlarge and warm, immediately dispelling the cold. I sank into it with a disturbing realization that he wasn’t trying to hurt me, he was helping me. But he couldn’t be. He was the Wicked Prince.
Once I regained my composure I spoke. “What is your true name?”
“Methrin.”
It was a beautiful name that sounded like a distantchord, a note of magic hovering around it. I held his name in my mouth and it tasted sweet instead of bitter, light instead of evil. “I’m called Esmira. You aren’t human, are you?”
“And you are a pureblooded human, Esmira?” he challenged, drawing out each syllable of my name.
