Page 47 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
A panicky fear came over me but the bud of magic awakened, unfurling like a coiled vine.
The warrior slashed at the table, sending plates of food tumbling to the floor. I cried out as he roared.
“I know one of you carries the deadly magic. You’ve come here to kill us all, just likehetried to do.” With a snarl, he ran to one end of the table.
“Go, go, go,” Lyra shrieked, pushing me in the opposite direction.
I moved, but my feet tangled in my too-long skirts, slowing me down.
Lyra gained the door just as the warrior hurled himself around the table, swinging his blade. A manic grin lit his face, but his skin was unnaturally pale, clammy, and his eyes blood red. Unless red eyes were a trait of the Everminati.
His speed was terrifying. I tripped and fell backward, my head smacking the floor. Stars danced in front of my eyes, enough to block out the advancing warrior.
“Esmira!” Lyra screamed and hurled a chair across the table.
It slammed into the warrior’s side, knocking him off balance.
I snatched up my skirts as I regained my feet. But I wasn’t fast enough. The warrior bellowed like an enraged bull and lowered his head, breaking the chair as he charged me.
My hands came up, and golden light streamed from them as he brought down the sword. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain.
Instead, there came a cracking sound, like glass breaking.
I opened my eyes and there stood the warrior, still lunging, a snarl ruining his handsome face, the sword raised. But he was fully encased in glass, just the way Methrin had imprisoned me the first time I’d fled from him.
The swing of the warrior’s blade must have been so powerful that it cracked the glass, for the tip of the blade pointed at a fissure in the glass prison.
I scrambled to my feet, body shaking.
A shadow flickered at the edges of my vision, just out of sight, but a voice whispered in my mind.Plot to destroy me, soon you’ll see, death rides in shadows and answers to me.
Bile clawed up my throat. I spun to the doorway, where Lyra stood.
“Esmira!” a familiar voice called, fury lacing his tone.
Methrin stepped into the doorway, and behind him stood King Ithrani surrounded by guards.
They all stood still, looking from the warrior to me. Aware of what I’d done.
I froze as shame and fear washed over me. The expressions on their faces were hostile, as though I’d done something awful. I was alone in a foreign world, and I’d just used terrible magic, magic they were all afraid of. What would they do to me? I didn’t dare look back at the warrior, even though I was certain he was still very much alive, just trapped.
King Ithrani spoke first, a dark edge to his commanding tone as he faced Prince Methrin. “So, you healed yourself but brought a demon to torment us. Butyou forget one thing, boy. I am king, I am not easily blackmailed with threats.”
Methrin’s jaw went tight, and his fingers curled into fists.
But when he did not speak, my heart sank. We’d come through the portal full of hope yet had only traded one nightmare for a darker one.
16
ESMIRA
“Iwant to leave right now, before more of them come,” Prince Methrin demanded, eyes blazing as he glared at the king.
More of them?
King Ithrani’s expression darkened. “Clean up the mess,” he barked to the guards. “Put him in prison, I will question him when I return.” To Methrin he added, “Follow me,” and whirled away from the door.
Half the guards hung back while the other group followed the king. Methrin waited in the doorway as Lyra and I joined him. He reached out a hand for me, changed his mind and let it hang by his side. “Are either of you hurt?”
