The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1)

by A. R. Meyering

  “Of course it works,” Hector retorted.

  Penny noticed Simon in the reflection of the mirror studying a piece of paper. “What have you got there?” She approached Simon and snorted with laugher when she saw he held the bundle of tickets for The Cursed Kiss of Anthony Adonis.

  He looked up at Penny with a dampened expression. “It’s playing tonight. Opening night,” he said, his voice heavy and sullen.

  “So go! I bet you’ll have a great time―maybe you’ll even get to meet that Collette Bordeaux,” Penny encouraged.

  “It’s Annette Deveaux, and―and―” Simon stuttered, looking embarrassed as he tried to get the words out.

  “What?” Penny prompted. Simon’s face flushed deep red.

  “I don’t want to go alone! Please come with me!” Simon begged, clutching at Penny.

  She threw him off and shot him a disgruntled look. “No way! I can’t stand that romantical stuff.”

  Simon gave her a heartbroken look and clasped his hands together. “I’m sure it won’t just be romance!” he whined. “It’s not asking too much…” His eyes were wide and glistening with hope. Penny sighed, looking over at Hector, who was watching their argument out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to read.

  “I’ll go if he goes,” she compromised, jerking her head in Hector’s direction. “There’s no chance I’m going to something like that alone with you. You’re incorrigible enough as it is.”

  “I would not be completely averse to attending a theatrical performance,” Hector injected, his eyes still fixed on his book. Simon leapt off the bed.

  “Oh, Miss Annette! This shall be the most glorious night of our lives―it will be the day we meet!” Simon declared to the poster on the wall. Penny noticed that he had doodled a little mustache and goatee on the man sharing a passionate kiss with Annette.

  Penny resigned herself to looking out of the window as Simon scurried into the bathroom to primp himself. She stared out at the velvet sky sprayed with clusters of stars, feeling the autumn breeze breathe in and shiver through her hair. The aromas from the nearby bistros and the hay from the stable below teased her nose. She didn’t realize she was smiling until Hector spoke.

  “My, don’t you look different,” he remarked.

  She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you talking about?” she questioned, feeling self-consciousness rising in her chest. “You mean the glasses?”

  Hector shook his head, a distant understanding in his eyes. He was silent for a long while as he organized his books, and Penny was glad for the chance to ponder his words. Hector finished fiddling with his books and papers and rose from his chair, padding across the carpet toward Penny and joining her by the window to peer out at the frosty stars. He touched Penny’s back for what she felt was almost too short a time. The reassuring contact caused Penny’s face to burn. He spoke to her in a tranquil tone, a light, silver laugh laced into his voice.

  “You look happy.”

  The excitement around the theater was so palpable it seemed to vibrate through the air, mingling with the misty glow of multi-colored lights streaming from the theater’s front entrance. Richly dressed people, composed of mostly humans and elves, made a dull roar as they struggled to get past the gates. Hector and Simon flanked Penny, the professor frowning while the magician beamed. Penny grasped their wrists to keep from losing them as she plunged through the horde.

  “What can possibly be so exciting about a silly play?” Hector complained.

  After twenty minutes of waiting behind a woman in a satiny purple dress, whose hat was adorned with two huge glittering, live beetles, they made it to the ticket gate to find a harried looking Aldridge assisting two young workers in rounding up tickets. He gave Penny a small nod of recognition and a wave, which she returned with an awkward grin.

  The halls of the theater were decorated in deep red and gold, giving it quite a different appearance than its exterior of stone suggested. Huge staircases draped in the royal crimson fabric wound up and down the main hall, leading to different floors of seating.

  It was a captivating to observe the ocean of people, their various jewelries and fabrics glinting in the reddish gloom of the theater. Inside the noise level was more hushed and restrained, and Hector looked very grateful for this. They sidled through the aisles past a couple of therios in their lavish formal garments, and took their seats in the cushy theater chairs in a row near the middle.

  Hector sighed in relief and took off his glasses. “I hope you’re satisfied, Simon,” he murmured, breathing on one of the lenses until it fogged.

  “Quite,” Simon replied. His eyes were locked on the stage, ready for the moment when the orchestra would announce the play’s commencement. Penny leaned back in her own seat, flipping through the program. She stopped at the collection of cast members’ biographies, and read with interest through one success story after another, including Annette’s section:

  —Annette Deveaux—

  This twenty-three year old darling of the performing world has been training in the arts since the age of five. She has often said that nothing makes her happier than giving her all for the grateful fans of Iverton. Miss Deveaux made her debut at the Iverton Central Theater at age sixteen, but didn’t receive her breakthrough role as ‘Elizabeth’ in Aldridge Alenter’s “The Shore Beyond” until four years later. Since then, she has been the shining beacon of Iverton’s performing arts society, claiming the starring role in more than 10 different plays and singing in 14 musical festivals.

  The illustration below the short biography showed the doll-like Annette flashing a charming smile. The next page offered another short summary about the leading man, Fredrick Weberforth, and Penny passed it on to Hector and turned her attention to studying the crowd. Many of the audience members were drinking fragrant beverages that smelled of alcohol, and Penny scanned the hall until she discovered a small bar in the top tier of the coliseum.

  Noting her interest, Simon whisked away to get them both large glasses of the strong-smelling wine. Penny, who had never had alcohol before, drank it down with only a few gulps. Simon sniggered at her as her cheeks turned red and Hector gave her a scolding glare.

  Feeling quite dizzy now, Penny resumed studying faces in the crowd. Farther down the row in front of her was a familiar person; a beautiful woman with black hair, cropped short in a chic style, and an unpleasant expression on her face. In her gloved hand she cradled a long cigarette from which plumes of sparkling violet smoke poured, accenting her low-cut, tight red gown. Despite all of her adornments and elegance, she exuded an air of trying to act and look younger than the telltale age lines on her face revealed her to be.

  The lights in the theater started to dim, and Penny refocused her attention to the stage as a hush fell across the theater. The band began a merry overture as the curtains whipped open, revealing a set depicting a tavern. Simon squeaked when he spotted Annette standing behind the fake counter, dressed in a disheveled barmaid’s outfit as she pretended to scrub it clean.

  A peal of applause rang out for the starlet. Annette’s voice rang through the amphitheater crystal clear as she started off her dialogue with another actor, who portrayed a regular at the bar. Annette’s character had been stuck at the dead-end bar for years, with no way out and no future. Penny decided that Annette Deveaux was deserving of her fame; her acting was charming, and she did her best to turn the cliché script into something that commanded the attention of the audience.

  The first musical number was nothing short of spectacular; special effects reached a new level with the assistance of magic. Penny was just getting drawn into the plotline when something in the audience distracted her. She shot a quick glance back at the black-haired woman, her face still maddeningly familiar, and a heavy shock made her breath catch in her throat. Next to the black-haired woman was Deimos; the very same man that had tried to coax Simon into murdering her over a month ago. The sound of her strangled heartbeat drow
ned out all the dialogue from the stage and Penny stared at her knees, trying to keep calm.

  All right, just remember…he doesn’t know what I look like…and it looks as if he hasn’t noticed Simon’s here, so we’re okay, she reassured herself, keeping her eyes fixed on Deimos and watching as he whispered into the ear of the black-haired woman. As he leaned, Penny saw that on the other side of Deimos sat the disfigured, dead-eyed man she had seen in the square of Dewthorne. Around his chalk-white neck was a metal collar attached to a chain, which a bald man on his right clutched. Penny’s lips quivered and she was already moving to alert Hector and Simon when something occurred to her.

  Though it made her stomach twist with fear, she knew what she needed to do. Penny stared at her hands, trying to remember her evening practices with Simon as she stole his memories away one by one.

  Deimos is here at this very moment, and completely unaware of me―Deimos who, for some reason, wants me dead—who started all of this―who knows why this is happening.

  Perhaps the wine she’d downed inspired reckless bravery, but Penny had decided. She took another slow breath, trying to quell the powerful thudding in her chest. She shot a covert glance at Hector, craving his support, but knowing he would never allow her to go down there. She knew as soon as Simon got wind that Deimos was near, he would make a scene. This would have to be done alone.

  Penny feigned interest in the performance as she formed a plan. Annette Deveaux stood in the middle of a faux thicket tinged a deep blue, fireflies floating around her as she sang a sorrowful song. Her face displayed such pure emotion and her voice was so clear and bell-like that Penny was distracted for a singular moment, captivated by her beauty and delicacy.

  The Rune Pendant she had taken from her mother’s shop still hung around her neck and Penny touched it as she shut her eyes. Her most forceful inner-voice whispered to her. You’ve never once been brave, have you? You’ve always been a coward. Just once, Penelope. Just once, be brave.

  Opening her eyes again and clenching her fists, Penny rose from her seat with shaking legs.

  “Where are you going?” Hector hissed, looking confused when Penny rose from her seat.

  “Bathroom,” Penny whispered back.

  Hector turned back toward the stage and Penny fought her way down the aisle, trying to be inconspicuous and silent. She spotted an empty chair behind the man with the metal collar and squirmed through the aisle to get to it. Once she’d sat down, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

  With a rush of horror, Penny realized she could not reach Deimos from her seat. Her head swam as she tried to think of a solution. The disfigured man sat before her, his face slack and unfeeling, the missing eye covered with the sheet of glass fused onto his face. Up close, his features were nothing short of horrendous.

  Simon said he saw this guy with Deimos on Earth…would he know the same things that Deimos knows? She juggled her choices. There was only one shot at this, and even if she succeeded there was no telling if she would escape unscathed.

  Penny shot a furtive glance downward, locating the chained man’s wrist dangling limp between the seats. With one final countdown, her hand shot forward, snaked between the seats, and grabbed the man around the wrist. His skin was like a corpse, and she willed herself to not let go as a wave of revulsion hit. Swallowing her fear, Penny braced herself against the flash of light that burst behind her eyes. Nothing followed. She gasped, the empty dream dissolving for a split second before she summoned it again. There was still only darkness.

  Penny pulled away from the man’s wrist and leaned back into her chair with a thud. Terrified, she prepared for his inhuman face to turn toward her, trying not to imagine how his grotesque features would appear with outrage contorting them. She sat frozen, her arms stuck in an unnatural position for the longest minute of her entire life.

  He did not move. He continued to stare off into the distance, motionless. Penny’s vision blurred and she remembered that she would have to breathe soon. She ignored the curious looks she was getting from the walrus-like man beside her. Annette’s song finished and Penny clapped with the rest of the audience, trying to organize her thoughts.

  He’s got no memories?! Maybe I was doing it wrong? Trying to keep her voice from trembling, she tapped Mr. Walrus on the shoulder and leaned up to his ear.

  “Excuse me, sir, I’m so sorry. Would you mind switching seats with me? I really need to talk to him,” she said and pointed at Deimos, wishing she had even a scrap of Annette Deveaux’s acting talent. The man raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and stood to shift his corpulent body into the seat Penny had vacated. As he moved past her, Penny was shoved against the back of the seat of the bald man that held the chain in his hand. For a heart-stopping second, he turned around in his seat and glared back at her, his white-blue eyes filled with such wild anger that Penny stopped in her tracks, wondering if he had somehow figured her out. When he turned back around, Penny slid into the still-warm seat previously occupied by Mr. Walrus.

  Catching her breath, Penny summoned her courage back. This was it. Her gaze locked onto the back of Deimos’ neck and his ponytail. She could not afford to miss.

  Penny whipped her hand forward, her eyes fixed on her mark and her heart exploding with victorious relief as she felt the warm flesh of Deimos’s neck connect with the tips of her fingers. She didn’t allow him a second to realize what was going on as she focused on summoning an important memory and felt herself overtaken by the light and falling into Deimos’s past…

  …Deimos sat on a regal-looking couch crafted of pink silk and dark wood. He was filled with a powerful sense of satisfaction―how could he ever have gotten so lucky? From where he sat, he could see the black-haired woman lounging against the wall of a richly decorated home, smoking her token cigarette and filling the drawing room with its heady fragrance. Beside him was his brother, bald and smiling his crooked grin. He was just as pleased as Deimos.

  “You’re absolutely sure, Ms. Valentine?” Deimos spoke, his voice deep and serious with a hint of menace playing around his words. The black-haired woman smirked.

  “Of course I’m sure, assuming what you said is true. It has to be…how else could that little fool have gotten to where she is without it?” Valentine sneered, her green eyes burning in her head. Even with the blush of youth fading, her beauty was intimidating. Deimos’s gaze narrowed as his brother laughed a warped, high pitched giggle beside him, revealing a set of broken, yellowed teeth. Valentine shot him a look of disgust. Deimos gave his brother a warning glance and he relaxed back into a wicked smile.

  “And you’re certain you’ll be able to get us to her discreetly? We cannot afford to be discovered.” Deimos tone was even, calculating. He turned to his brother, wrath splintering from his tongue. “We can’t have any more slip-ups―isn’t that right, Phobos?” Anger still smoldered in his chest. Phobos returned his gaze with an even more belligerent scowl.

  Valentine took a long drag on her cigarette and blew it through her scarlet lips. “Who do you think I am, huh?” she spat, insulted.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, but if a person like Annette Deveaux goes missing, I’m absolutely certain the blame is going to be set on someone…and if it’s us, I promise you the consequences will be severe,” Deimos hissed , his single eye narrowed to a slit. Valentine’s face showed a flare of panic that she deftly hid.

  “Don’t you worry, no one will know.” She was humorless now, her apple-red lips pushed into a pout. “Just do what I say and she’ll be yours.”

  “So we’ve reached an agreement then?” Deimos prompted.

  Valentine’s lips parted as she considered, her emerald-bright eyes drifting in thought. “She will suffer? You swear it?” she asked with carnivorous hunger. Deimos was still, a low murmur of incredulity shivered through his heart at the cruelness of her intentions. He was certain they far bypassed his own.

  “More than even you could imagine,” he said in a flat voice, and an indu
lgent smile split her fearsome beauty, warping it into something monstrous. Deimos stood and saw another pulse of fear in her face. It sent a flurry of gratification up and down his spine to see her frightened. “Don’t forget, now, you take orders from us. Because of what you know, you’ve fully committed yourself to this, and there is absolutely no backing out. We’ll be staying with you at all times to see that your loyalty does not waver, is that understood?”

  “You’re the boss,” she conceded, shrugging a little as if to say she didn’t care.

  Deimos laughed. “No, I’m not the boss, Valentine. You should know that by now,” he reminded her, thinking with dread of the one who dwelt alone in the dark of the palace, waiting for them to return―with Annette Deveaux.

  Penny felt her senses flooding back into her own body as she emerged from the dream. NO! This isn’t enough!

  With as much strength as she could muster, she willed the light to return and another memory to flood into her eyes. Images shot out at her through black smoke. Flashes of shining teeth, wretched wails and waves of ripping agony blazed past Penny’s eyes in hot explosions, overloading her brain with bursts of terror as an unbearable pain erupted in her right eye. Recoiling, she wrenched her hand away from Deimos, desperate for it all to stop and gasping for air. Deimos let out a pinched yell and fell off his chair.

  Valentine gasped and leapt up from her seat while Phobos grasped his brother’s arm. Glances and whispers began blossoming all around. Penny rose from her seat and Valentine shot a fiery green glance in her direction. In that instant Penny realized with a start why she looked familiar―the dramatic posters from outside the theater had Valentine’s face plastered all over them. Their connected gaze seemed to last an eternity as Penny stood paralyzed, until with a great surge of effort she broke eye contact, keeping her face down as she made her getaway. She pushed down the aisle, leaving a trail of affronted grumbles. Seeing her paper-white complexion and shaking limbs, Hector rose to help Penny keep her balance.