Page 41 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
Another rustle of whispers rose across the chamber. I pressed my lips together. Was theithe spoke of the king of monsters?
“Princess Esmira freed me from the mirrorverse which led to my return here. The monster has been free for years, perhaps two decades. We do not know it’s strength, we do not know what it has become, but we understand the repercussions. It will seek to destroy, it will haunt us across realms. I’ve come to request Shadow Slayer, the sacred blade of the gods to slay it.”
The chamber erupted in an uproar as Everminati leaped to their feet, shouting.
“Blasphemy!”
“That is the blade of the gods, no one is worthy.”
“Is he truly free from the darkness?”
“Slay him!”
I wanted to sink into the velvet cushions. The rage was so pressing, so furious that I felt it like a vicious blow to my skin.
All of the judges stood, shouting for order.
“This is bad,” Lyra whispered.
I turned to her. “Are you sorry you came?”
“Sorry? No, this is the most excitement I’ve ever had. I just hope it turns out well. I’ve studied the Everminati and I want to learn more about them, but they tend to be very emotional.”
Emotional did not describe Methrin who stood statue-still on the stage, waiting for the commotion to die down.
It did, eventually, and when the judge had order again, he wiped his forehead with a cloth, then picked up the scroll again. “In accordance with our laws, we shall confer with a small council to discuss your request?—”
“Let him have it!” boomed a voice like a crack of lightning.
I turned, as did the entire assembly, and there in the entrance stood a man dressed in white, his raiment shining like the stars. He was tall with a hooked nose, a mane of dark hair falling past his shoulders and on his head, a crown the color of moonlight. The light reflected around it and he shone as though he were made of light and it leaked out him.
This time, no whispers filled the room, but as he descended the stairs toward the stage, rows of Everminati bowed as he went by. A wave of dread washed over me, and I could only come to one conclusion. He was their king.
“King Ithrani—” the judge began.
But the king held up his hand, silencing the chamber. “Prince Methrin, welcome home,” King Ithrani said, joining Methrin on the stage. “I have heard your request, and it shall be granted based on two conditions. One, you submit to the silver bath to ensure you are indeed cleansed of that foul magic that drove you mad. Secondly, the Shadow Slayer shall be yours if you help us discover why magic has forsaken our lands.”
Methrin’s nostrils flared, but it was the only sign of anger. “I will submit to the silver bath, but this magic, what happened?”
King Ithrani gestured to the judge, who spoke quickly. “Our beloved evening star, the moon, has gone dark, and with it the well of magic we draw from, bringing war to our borders.”
King Ithrani put a hand on Methrin’s shoulder. “Since you have defeated the monster, yet stand here, then you can figure out how to restore magic to our lands again.”
I felt defeated. How was it possible to find out what had happened to magic? It was intangible, random, no one understood where it had come from or how it manifested. How would we possibly be able to return it to the Everminati?
Prince Methrin held out his hand. “I agree to the challenge.”
The king pulled a knife from his belt and held out his hand, quickly slicing his palm. “Then agree to it with blood.”
I did not look away as Prince Methrin sliced open his palm, blood running down his hand as he clasped the king’s hand.
King Ithrani held up their joined hands. “Let this blood oath be a witness. It shall be done or death come upon any who seek to break an oath sworn in blood.”
14
ESMIRA
“Silver!”
