Page 24 of Thief of Dreams
Blink.More columns, more guards, more shadows.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
I finally find a ledge to rest upon as I blur back into mortal form. Sifting can be tiring, and it's hard to see your surroundings when you're veiled in shadows. From up here, I get a bird's eye view of the treasury's inner chambers.
The inside of the building is lit with softly glowing fey lanterns. I expected piles of riches, ancient treasures and artifacts, or perhaps a long line of vaults where all Prince Keir's precious little baubles are locked away.
It's just a single enormous hall—which is fucking empty.
What mockery is this? I nearly explode in frustration, but then something catches my eye.
Set right in the middle of the room is an enormous mirror. I Sift across the floor, barely daring to alight upon it before I'm gone again. But no alarms ring through the building at the touch of my foot, no wards suddenly cascade down, trapping me....
I try again.
And one last time, just to test the security surrounding the object.
Nothing.
The light from the lanterns barely reaches the dark mirror. Its surface is a sheen of pure obsidian.
A strange, possibly cursed object, locked away by itself in a heavily guarded building. Oh no, this isn't suspicious at all.
It’s surrounded by a gilt-edged frame with ancient runes carved in it. I circle it curiously. Dark mirror.... Why does this sound familiar?
There are spelled mirrors that can show you your heart's desire or your worst nightmare. Mirrors that can tell you how beautiful you are. Mirrors that can show you your enemy's most dangerous weakness.
But which one is this?
I study the runes. The symbol ofaarwainmeans desire. Butyaarwensuggests to beware.
Andruhmeans to see.
But to see what?
"Show me the Dragon's Heart," I whisper hopefully. "Show me where it is."
The mirror's opaque surface transforms, and suddenly I'm staring at an image of Prince Keir. He leans over a basin of water, his chest bare as he scrubs at the stubble on his jaw. No male should look like such utter perfection, and I can't help noticing the way the towel wrapped around his waist dips dangerously low.
Stupid fucking mirror. I push away from it.
But then the urge to look back is almost dangerously compelling. I'm not intending to do anything of the kind. I need to get out of here.
But the next thing I know, I'm standing back in front of the mirror.
"Show me my soul-trap."
A faint silvery light appears, deep in the heart of the mirror. It slowly swims closer, that amorphous sliver of my soul trapped behind spelled crystal. My father wears it around his throat, but his features are a blur. I haven't asked to see him, only the soul-trap, so that's all it shows me.
I have no way of knowing how long I stand there. I'm vaguely aware of the flickering of fey lanterns. Of the ache of my legs, locked into place.
But all I can see is my truest desire.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I struggle to break the mirror lock. I know what this is now. The mirror's the bait. A Dark Object spelled to trap anyone who glances into it, until the guards do their next rotation. It will show you anything you want to see. All you have to do is look into it.
Just don't expect to escape it.
Cauldron's piss.
