The Mirror's Gaze

by Rae D. Magdon

  “You’d think they would get tired of sitting after nearly a week,” Ailynn said. “The council doesn’t seem any closer to deciding than when we started.”

  “I can’t blame them,” I said. “War means lives lost. They have a right to be concerned.”

  “Don’t look so worried, Cate.” Raisa offered me a smile. “I’m sure the council will listen to you and Larna today. They can’t put off their decision forever.”

  I sighed. Even though Raisa had misinterpreted the source of my fear, I did not mention my vision. Now was not the time. “I don’t know what else we can say to convince them. We told them about the villages burning, about the Queen’s army, about Mogra’s kerak and shadowkin.”

  “We just have to keep trying,” Ailynn said. “If we can force the issue to a vote, I think we have a fair chance.”

  I was not convinced. Waiting for a decision from the council was frustrating, but I wasn’t sure we had the votes we needed. The arachniarre and feliarre representatives were firmly on our side, but Councilor Maresth and the equiarre representative were far more cautious, and the caniarre representative’s behavior was almost hostile. “Not unless we can get at least one more councilmember to agree with us.”

  “We will,” Larna said, folding a strong arm around my shoulder. “I know we will.”

  I remained silent as we stepped onto the street, praying she was right even as the face in the mirror flashed through my head.

  Chapter Three

  Taken from the verbal accounts of Ailynn Gothel, edited by Lady Eleanor Kingsclere

  I SLUMPED IN MY seat, crossing my arms and gazing across the giant rings of the grand theater. It was the largest building I had ever seen, and almost all the benches were filled with liarre. Even after several weeks in Ardu, I had not grown used to the sight of so many faces. It didn’t help that none of the faces were human. The tapered, twitching noses of the feliarre, the long, delicate muzzles of the equiarre, and the tattooed arachniarre with their needle-thin teeth still seemed strange to me.

  Warmth brushed my wrist, and I looked into my lap to see Raisa’s fingers lacing with mine. I gave her hand a squeeze and sighed. The liarre had treated us well for the most part, but I was still a stranger here and watching them debate day after day made me feel helpless.

  “They should be starting soon,” Raisa whispered beside my ear. “I can see Councilor Maresth just beyond the door.”

  I looked back up to meet her eyes, and a few threads of her golden hair brushed along my cheek. I tucked them fondly behind her ear, stroking the soft line of her jaw with the backs of my fingers. “Remind me to cut your hair later. If I hadn’t braided it this morning, it would be down to your ankles.”

  Raisa shook her head and pushed my hand away, reaching up to check that her braid was still there. A few strands had escaped, but that wasn’t unusual. With so much hair, some of it was almost always out of place. “We can worry about it later,” she said, pushing the stray locks back behind her shoulders. “You really should pay more attention. Today could be the day they finally decide to vote.”

  “Not likely,” I muttered. “I’m sure Rufas will have a whole list of objections to get through before Jinale can even mention the subject.” Raisa opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, the rest of the theater went silent. As one, all the liarre turned to look at the large platform in the middle of the circle. I could not help but follow their gaze, and as I had been seated in the second row up, I had an excellent view.

  Four of the councilors were already in place. A lithe feliarre sat on the far left, her tail curled around her striped haunches. Sleek sheets of muscle covered her body, and the whiskers around her nose twitched with impatience beneath her slitted yellow eyes. Her name was Rachari, and she had been sympathetic to our cause from the beginning, despite the way her fur bristled whenever Larna or Cate drew too close for comfort.

  Beside Rachari was another friendly face, though her appearance still frightened me if I didn’t prepare myself. Jinale, the arachniarre councilor, was a fearsome sight with eight legs and a bulbous lower body. Although her upper half was human in appearance, her head was not. She had a nose and chin, but her lips and tongue were black, and her cheeks were covered in decorative eye tattoos. She was another ally of ours, and she had saved me and Raisa on two separate occasions during our journey to Ardu. Before her arrival in the city a few days prior, I hadn’t been certain whether she survived my mother’s attack.

  “At least one of them understands the damage Mogra can do,” I said to Raisa, nodding in Jinale's direction. “Jinale witnessed it firsthand. I don't understand why the others won't listen to her.”

  Raisa gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze. “You do understand. Remember how long you spent in denial about your mother's actions?”

  Although she hadn't meant to hurt my feelings, Raisa's words cut the bottom from my stomach. Guilt and I had become fast friends over the past several months. If I was being honest with myself over the past several years. I didn't want to admit it, but Raisa was right. I did understand why Rufas and Weyshra, the other two councilors, wanted to remain in Ardu instead of sending troops to aid the Amendyrri rebellion. The kingdom was not their home. Until Mogra showed up at the city's doorstep, many of them were content to pretend everything was normal. It was not unlike the way I had behaved when my mother started to display the first signs of insanity.

  Still, I couldn’t help feeling resentful as my eyes shifted to Rufas, the caniarre councilor. He was large and muscular, with thick arms and heavy-set shoulders. His fangs jutted up from a severe underbite, and his jowls quivered whenever he spoke. He was currently whispering to Weyshra, who stood to his left. Although the tall, graceful equiarre councilor did not seem to have anything against humans or wyr, he was cautious by nature. While Rufas disparaged all of Larna's pleas for aid, Weyshra expressed at least some regret over his perceived inability to help.

  The sound of a gong rang through the theater and I stopped brooding. The sick, swimming feeling in the pit of my belly eased a little. Chairwoman Maresth, the dracarre representative, slithered along the walkway leading up to the platform. Her scales shone in the sunlight, and the stadium was so silent I imagined I could hear the scratch of her giant claws and the rustle of her long, heavy tail dragging along the ground behind her. The other councilors bowed their heads and divided to make space for her at the center, Jinale and Rachari going one way, Rufas and Weyshra another.

  Once she had taken her place among them, she turned in our direction to address the crowd. When she spoke, I shuddered at the soft hiss in her voice. “Though we are all different, we gather here as brothers and sisters, just as our ancestors did before us. Today, we debate a matter of great importance: whether the liarre will offer aid to the Kingdom of Amendyr in its time of need. Let us speak wisely, act justly, and make certain all voices are heard.”

  I leaned forward, listening carefully, but Maresth’s flickering hiss revealed nothing. Over the past week, I had not been able to discern her opinion on the subject. While the other four councilors were all too happy to make their opinions known, Maresth acted as more of a moderator, making sure their arguments never got out of hand. Unfortunately, her conciliatory approach didn't do anything to speed up the proceedings.

  My heart sank when Rufas leapt on the opportunity to speak first. "Madam Chairwoman, since I was the last to speak yesterday and wasn't given enough time to finish my remarks, I humbly request the opportunity to open today's debate."

  While Maresth considered his request, Rachari rolled her eyes. It was strange to see such a human gesture on a feline face, but I reminded myself that the liarre had been human once. Lyr the shaper had created their ancestors centuries ago with his brutal magical experiments. Although they were friendly, it easily could have been otherwise. My mother's twisted creations were not so docile.

  "I doubt more time to speak will help your cause," Rachari said. The sarcasm in her throaty
voice was more than obvious, and Rufas' thick jaw bunched in annoyance. "We've been discussing our options for six days already. The time has come to make a decision. We owe our guests that much." She gestured at Larna and Cate, who were seated in the first row right at the foot of the platform. "The Farseer pack is a crucial part of the rebel army. An army, I might add, that is the only thing standing between us and the Queen's monsters."

  "We have no reason to believe the Queen will invade Ardu," Rufas barked. His hands clenched into fists, and the short fur on the back of his haunches began to bristle. Of all the councilors, he was the most hot-tempered, and Rachari knew just how to rile him. "Our land hasn't been part of Amendyr for centuries. Sacrificing liarre lives on the slim possibility that the Queen might try and expand her borders is foolish."

  "The foolish thing would be to wait until we have kerak and shadowkin at our doorstep." Jinale frowned, and even her eye tattoos seemed to narrow. "Believe me, Rufas, they will come. I have seen Mogra's creations myself. They are mindless killers, incapable of fear or sympathy. If we don't join the rebellion and strike first, they will wipe us out."

  Weyshra gently cleared his throat and the other councilors turned toward him. "I believe your accounts of Mogra's creatures, Jinale, but if you encountered them only a few days from Ardu, why haven't they followed you here? You told us yourself you believed Mogra to be dead. Perhaps without their leader, they have already retreated?"

  "I never said Mogra was dead. She's alive and well, I'm sure of it. An Ariada that powerful would never allow herself to be killed by something as insignificant as a rockslide."

  In my heart, I knew Jinale was right. It was true I had seen no sign of Mogra after the avalanche that had nearly taken our lives, but that didn't mean anything. I could think of countless ways Mogra could have used her magic to survive the fall, and I had learned the hard way never to underestimate her. She would return at the head of the Queen's armies, and when she did, I would be waiting for her. She was my responsibility.

  As the crowd murmured, I squeezed Raisa’s hand. She was the only one who truly understood my feelings. Despite my hatred for my mother, despite the fact she had created monsters with corrupted magic and imprisoned Raisa in a cave, I did not hate her. In fact, I pitied her. On my worst days, I feared I might become her.

  Rufas' gruff voice brought me back to the debate. "Whether the witch is dead or not isn't the issue. The facts are simple. We can't afford to sacrifice liarre lives for a human war."

  "But it isn't just a human war," Rachari pointed out. "All manner of creatures live in Amendyr, some of whom are our brothers and sisters." She gestured at Larna and Cate, and though I could only see the backs of their heads, I could imagine their annoyed expressions perfectly. Larna's face would tense and twitch, narrow-eyed and fierce, while Cate's would remain a mask of long-suffering patience. "Wyr and liarre come from the same magic blood. You may be willing to dismiss the war as a silly human conflict, but the rest of us won't turn our backs on our kin so easily."

  While Rufas fumed, Rachari turned toward the crowd, addressing them directly. "Liarre have always stood against the corruption of magic. Since our creation, we have fought back against Ariada who think they can shape living beings to their own purposes. Today, we have the opportunity to fight for freedom once again. A shaper has been practicing dark magic, just like Lyr did centuries ago, and creating an army of monsters. If you will not fight for your own safety, fight because our history demands it. The liarre cannot tolerate the abuse of magic in any form."

  "You realize what you’re implying, don't you, Rachari?" Weyshra said, looking at her with worried eyes. "The wyr are the result of shaping gone awry, just as we are. If we are to consider the wyr our kin, we must consider the kerak and shadowkin our brothers as well."

  Rachari's lips pulled into a snarl, but Jinale spoke before she could unleash her fury on the equiarre councilor. "It is because they are our brothers that we must put them out of their misery. They are mindless, tormented desecrations of the dead. We cannot allow them to continue suffering under the hands of a tyrant like Mogra."

  The sound of voices swelled around us, but the murmurs of approval from the crowd seemed to outnumber the shouts of protest. While Rufas fumed and Weyshra continued to fret, I remained focused on Maresth. Hers was the vote we needed, and hers was the only opinion I cared about. The councilor’s reptilian face revealed little, but I thought I saw her second pair of eyelids blink and her tongue flicker. Perhaps Rachari’s pleas had finally gotten through to her.

  At last, she nodded to a crouched feliarre at the bottom of the platform. He struck the gong again, and the crowd went silent. Once she had the stadium’s attention, Maresth addressed the audience in a dry, rasping voice. “This line of debate provides no satisfactory answers. We must make a decision quickly. The debate will continue, but I request the rebellion’s ambassadors meet with us in private once we finish. Tomorrow, the five of us will announce our decision to the public.”

  I caught a glimpse of Cate turning around in the row below. She searched for my eyes, and I returned her look of disbelief. She, Larna, and I had been trying to meet with the council in private for almost a week, but Maresth had forbidden it. So far, only Jinale and Rachari had agreed to speak with us, but they were already sympathetic to the rebellion. The chance to meet with the rest of the council in private would prove invaluable. Perhaps when they were away from the eyes of the public they would be more concerned with listening to reason than posturing in front of the people who had elected them to office.

  “See?” Raisa whispered beside me, clutching excitedly at my shoulder. “I told you things would be different today. We finally have a chance to convince the other councilors to vote our way.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” I muttered, even though I was already disobeying my own advice. “Until the council votes, we’re just as bad off as we were before.”

  Raisa continued smiling. “Well, if you won’t be optimistic, I will. One of us has to be.”

  I couldn’t help but smile back. Raisa might not be Ariada, but she was far stronger than me. She had survived years of isolation and imprisonment with her sanity intact, and never once had she given up hope. If she could still have faith after enduring so much, so could I.

  Chapter Four

  Taken from the diary of Lady Eleanor Kingsclere

  I JOLTED AWAKE TO the sound of a fearful hiss and a mild flash of pain. Sharp claws pierced the bare skin below my shoulder, and I blinked in surprise. Jessith's bright yellow eyes hovered an inch away from mine, almost overtaken by their dark pupils. "Ellie, wake up," she yowled, nudging me with her nose. "We have to leave. They're already gathering outside. Can't you hear them?"

  I flinched away as Jessith's whiskers tickled my cheek. "Hear what?" I yawned, pushing her off my chest and into my lap. "Who's gathering?" Instinctively, I glanced over at Belle. She snored softly beside me, her face buried in her pillow and her glossy black hair tossed in a tangle around her head.

  Jessith clambered over me and onto Belle's back, tail swishing in agitation. "You too," she said, butting against Belle's head. When her efforts proved useless, she extended her claws again, jabbing through the sheets.

  That did the trick. Belle groaned and swung out blindly with one arm, trying to shove Jessith off the bed. "Tell that damnable cat to keep her paws to herself," she grumbled, her sleep-thickened voice muffled by the pillow. "It's the middle of the night."

  "Wait," I said, scooping Jessith back into my arms. "She came here to warn us."

  With a sigh of protest, Belle pushed up into a sitting position, sweeping her tousled hair back with one hand. "Warn us?" she slurred, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "About what?"

  "About the monsters, you idiots." Jessith leapt to the floor, her fur bristling with impatience. "I already told you they're coming."

  The last of my tiredness vanished. "What monsters?"

  "The ones that smell of foul magic, of
course." Jessith stared at me as if I was the greatest idiot alive. "There's an army of them headed straight for us. If we don't make our escape now, they'll have us surrounded."

  Suddenly, I understood. The monsters from Cieran's letter had not confined themselves to Ronin. Some of them had made their way to Baxstresse, and I knew at once why they had come. "They're here for Neva," I said, groping for Belle's arm. "We have to get her to safety."

  "What?" A furrow creased the middle of Belle's forehead. "But we aren't ready to leave for Amendyr yet—"

  "Did you not hear the part about the army of monsters closing in on the estate?" Jessith snarled. "And to think I considered you intelligent for a human."

  I didn't bother translating Jessith's insults. Instead, I leapt out of bed, searching for last night's clothes. "How much time do we have?" I asked as I pulled my dress over my head.

  "Finally, a sensible question. A few minutes at best if the birds outside weren't spouting their usual gibberish. They kept shrieking about night-claws and burning eyes and giant dogs."

  My fingers shook as I rummaged through the closet for my riding habit and shrugged into it. Cate had written to me about the horrible creatures taking over Amendyr in her letters. The kerak were lanky, twisted versions of what had once been men, and the shadowkin were the giant demon-dogs that accompanied them. If Mogra's army of undead monsters had somehow made its way from Ronin to Baxstresse…

  "We need to go," I told Belle, slipping into my shoes. "Get dressed and grab everything you can. We have to evacuate the estate immediately."

  Belle looked as though she wanted to protest, but after a moment's hesitation, she obeyed. Once the shock wore off, she was all business, rummaging through our wardrobe for her loosest clothes. "One of us needs to get Neva. The other should go warn the servants. If something really is coming."