Page 25 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
I watched the curve of Methrin’s back, the reverent tilt of his head as he sat, gleaning wisdom from the silence.
“Did you know her?” I asked at last, pondering the years of his life. All this time and I still didn’t know the prince I’d traveled with. But I wanted to. Not the legends, not the stories buthistruth told from hislips.
Lyra was light and laughter, friendship like I’d never known. But Methrin—Methrin was a depth of mystery shrouded in shadows and lies. Wicked. Forbidden. Dangerous. Immortal?
In the stillness a desire rose but I didn’t dare let it form.
“No.” Methrin’s quiet voice echoed. “She was before my time but she led the way. This place is tinged with magic though. If you sit in the silence you can feel the currents of it ebbing and flowing. I suspect that’s why the Boundary was built here, drawing on the natural well of magic that fills this place.”
His words made me yearn to be part of it, the cycle of magic, the flow of life, for my actions to be worthy of a statue that others would find hope, encouragement as they sat in reverent stillness and listened. I crossed thethreshold into the room and sank to my knees in front of the statue. I expected the cold stones to bite through my nightgown but the air was warm, even. Silky smooth petals brushed my fingers as I scooped them into my palms.
“Close your eyes,” Methrin instructed. “Make a wish.”
I obeyed, but the thought at the very forefront of my mind was of him. I could get used to the Methrin of the night, one so very different from the Wicked Prince I’d accidentally freed.
“How’d you sleep?” Lyra asked as I walked into the kitchen. Early morning light shone in the windows and a hearty fire licked at the hearth.
Lyra sat at the table, a steaming mug in front of her, a finger holding open a book. Her brown hair hung loose around her shoulders, a pensive look on her face, but long shadows chased away when her eyes met mine.
“Do creatures always fight at night? I heard howling, barking and . . .” I trailed off with a shiver.
Lyra winced. “Sorry about that, I should have warned you. It happens whenever man or beast gets too close to the wards. When I was little I used to run to my father’s room and hide under the bed, waiting for it to end.”
My gaze darted to the back door which was firmly shut. “How do you live with that? Has anything come through?”
“It’s only a matter of time, so it’s good we are leaving soon.”
“Leaving?” I stepped back, fighting to keep my panic down. “But. We just got here.”
Lyra tucked stray curls behind her ear and stood. “Walk with me in the garden?”
A frown creased my forehead and I paused, watching as she added tea leaves and hot water to a mug. When she held it out to me, I took it. “Is it safe out?”
“The mist keeps intruders out. For now.”
Cold fingers of fear wrapped around my chest. “Where are we going?” I asked quietly as I followed her into the crisp air of morning.
A stone path led into the garden, wild bushes growing on either side, new buds awaiting the sunshine to bloom. A back wall surrounded the garden and as the land flattened into rows of furrowed ground, little green shoots tentatively poking up their heads. It smelled like herbs and there was a wild undertone I couldn’t quite name.
“Well. You’re here. You brought Prince Methrin. It’s time to begin. I’ve been eagerly waiting your arrival, as was foretold and I’m relieved. No more waiting, no more loneliness. It’s time for an adventure.”
My eyebrows shot up. “I’m . . . I’m not going on an adventure. I’m just here to hide, to learn how to use Mirror Magic and find my purpose.”
Lyra sighed. “He didn’t tell you anything, did he?”
“Prince Methrin?” I found myself naturally echoing the way she adding the formal title before his name. “Last night he showed me the statue of Seer Isoule and told me how she built this place.”
“Yes, her works have long been forgotten, but we store all the records here, books full of legends, histories of magic, the prophecies foretold and stories of mortals and immortals beyond our time.”
“Then you know of the Everminati?” I asked, since we’d never finished our conversation from yesterday. I was aware she knew of the Everminati but not how much. “I don't understand. Why would they come here. Why ishehere?”
“A valid question.” Lyra moved to a well and took a seat on the stone rim. Patting the stones beside her she asked, “Tell me, what have you been taught about the Everminati?”
I sat down, leaving space so I could pivot and look at her. “They are immortals made from stardust, powerful, magical, but wicked above all else.”
“Ah. But think of this. Of all the mortals you’ve met, have all been good? All been evil?”
“Of course not, people are a mix of good and bad.”
