by Kresley Cole
A single red apple sat beside it.
49
Elianna?" Mari whispered when she spied her mentor waiting for her here. "Are you . . . real?"
She patted her wrinkly skin with a frown. "The last time I checked."
Mari pinched her forehead. "Am I real in this mirror? Or was the reflection fake?"
"Everyone's real." Elianna chuckled. "The reflection is merely a facet of your being. A bit like an astral projection. And before you ask--yes, you do look that diabolical when you are using strong magick."
Somewhat reassured, Mari hugged her. As always happened, pungent scents from the powders and dried leaves in Elianna's infinite apron pockets wafted up between them. "I missed you! I'd wondered why you weren't with Carrow holding vigil."
"Well, don't think I wasn't watching over you."
Mari gazed around her. This was the plane of unbroken black from her dreams. "What is this place?"
"This is your new home. Your very own dimension." She smiled brightly and waved her hand around. "You can decorate it however you like."
"Um, why would I need a new home?" Mari asked.
"Every great sorceress has her own dimension."
"I'm not a sorceress."
"Do you want to be?" Elianna asked in a strange tone.
"I just want to understand what is happening."
"This is where you need to be for now," she said. "You're safe here from the magick of others. And no one but your family and other members of the Wiccae can ever come here--unless you expressly invite them."
"Was I in danger?" Mari asked.
She nodded. "Come with me." As Elianna crossed to a cauldron, Mari followed, apprehension pricking at her. She hadn't seen witchery like this in years.
Elianna stirred the bubbling brew inside it with a staff, clearing the smoke to reveal a scene. In a dimension much like this one were two marble altars.
Mari's parents lay atop them.
Her father was on a slab of cold rock, with his fists clenched, just as Mari had dreamed. Her mother lay beside him, her beautiful face frozen in pain.
Mari bit back a cry. "Oh, gods, what is this? Are they alive?"
"Yes, but they were struck down by a powerful sorceress. Ensorcelled by a dark power."
"Who? Who would do this to them?"
Elianna hesitated, then finally answered, "Haxa."
Mari swallowed. "She does feed off trapped souls."
Elianna nodded, then continued, "Your father succumbed first."
"He didn't . . . he didn't just ditch us?"
"No, leaving his family nearly killed him, but he is a powerful warlock, and his destiny had always been to fight Haxa. He was ruthless in his preparation for battle. Black magicks, sinister pacts for spells of greater power. He dealt with devils and rogue wizards. Yet still he was unable to smite her."
"And Jillian?"
"Haxa froze your mother when she went to beg for his life. Jillian knew the futility, but she couldn't live without him."
Mari felt like she was choking. No wonder Jillian had always seemed so sad--she'd been missing her husband. . . .
"Druid sabbatical, Elianna?" Her father lived? Her mother hadn't remained away by choice? "How could you not tell me about this?"
"Jillian wanted you to have a normal life for as long as possible."
"Normal? I thought I was unwanted! That they both chose to leave me."
Elianna looked baffled. "But they adored you--surely you remember that?"
Mari pointed an accusing finger at her. "You should have told me about what happened to them!"
"When should I have? When you turned eighteen, should I have said, 'Your parents are frozen in eternal pain and agony--and you can't do a damned thing about it for many years.'? Then wish you luck on your SATs?"
Her parents had loved her. "How do I wake them?"
Elianna glanced away. "You have to kill the one that did this to them."
Haxa was one step down from a goddess, the most powerful sorceress ever to live. "Fate does no' blow her bullets," Bowen had said. He'd been right. Mari was to fight the witches' greatest enemy. She feared the idea, but the fury churning inside her wouldn't be denied. Elianna stared at her eyes, and Mari knew they'd changed.
"I'm going after her. Tell me how to find her."
"You will know how to find her when you are prepared to fight her."
"For once, stop this witchy, mystical bullshit, Elianna! I want to kill her now!"
"You're not ready," Elianna insisted.
"If you think I'll sit around here waiting to turn immortal--"
"That won't matter," Elianna quietly interrupted. "Haxa can turn any living being to dust. Immortality or mortality will make no difference."
"Then do I even have a shot at winning against her?" Mari demanded. "What do the seers say?"
"Anyone who tried to read the battle between Mariketa the Awaited and Haxa . . . was struck mad. We doubt Haxa has even been able to see this."
"Doesn't matter. I'm still going after her, with or without your help."
"If Haxa defeats you, she will usurp your powers. We can't risk that--or she will become unstoppable."
"I'll figure it out!"
"Your parents are not the only ones in this state. There are thousands more, taken from all Lorekind and accumulated over time. Think of others suffering. You have responsibilities to them as well."
A thousand voices calling to her in her dreams.
"How do I prepare, then?"
"You are a captromancer. You'll use the medium given to you to learn. No longer will you be given hints of information or power. Because you are the Queen of Reflections, knowledge will flow from the mirror straight to your being. You'll learn everything from how to coax fire from water to how to shield yourself from another's magick attacks, deflecting damage."
Mari thought over all Elianna had revealed, struggling to remain calm. "Does Haxa have any weaknesses?"
"It's been reported that her eyesight is poor. Her animal familiars see better than she does."
"Familiars? What kind?"
"Trolls, some kobolds, ravens, and--"
"Ravens?" Mari bit out. When Elianna nodded, Mari said, "Haxa's already been watching me! I saw them in the jungle, and in my dreams. Even just now when I stepped into the mirror, ravens were on the windowsill."
"It makes sense that you've had foresight about her. And I figured she would already be spying on you. But remember, she can't get to you here."
"Were you watching the scene when the fey princess showed up?" Mari asked.
Elianna gave an emphatic nod. "Was I ever."
"Mariah said a sorceress brought her back--it has to be Haxa that's done this. What better way to create misery than to return a male's mate precisely when he's decided to move on." To herself, she thought, What better way to hurt me? First take my parents from me, now separate me from the man I love.
"It's certainly possible. This is how she operates."
"If I actually succeed in killing her, what will happen? Will the world be changed?"
Elianna answered, "Aside from freeing so many souls, your act won't change anything about today. But if Haxa is not stopped now, she will continue to grow more powerful. Soon there will come a time when she will enslave the entire world in misery. Hell will reign on earth."
"But if Haxa's destroyed, what will happen to the balance between her, Hekate, and Hela?"
"This balance might be disrupted already because Haxa is no longer a goddess. And some are saying that Hela isn't as beneficent as she once was."
Mari exhaled a long breath, wondering if she'd have to do battle with Hela one day as well. Had Mari actually dreaded the idea that her career highlights would peak when she was twenty-three? "How do I begin?"
"I suppose you'd best conjure a mirror. Just imagine one you've seen and a facsimile will appear here."
Mari pictured her oval antique mirror, framed in oak in a spindle stand. Within a nanosecond,
a copy manifested itself. "I just stand in front of it?"
"Yes, but be cautious with it," Elianna said. "The knowledge is potent and addictive. You'll receive an understanding no mortal has ever experienced. If you feel yourself getting in too deep, then you must pull back."
Mari nodded and faced the mirror. Beautiful glass.
Her eyes flashed, reflecting back. To infinity, Mari's eyes seemed to reflect. No more tedious questions and answers. Knowledge had begun to funnel directly into her, spells and magicks becoming part of her.
It was exquisite, but now she had only one thing she wanted to know.
How to kill a sorceress.
*
"You always stand outside," Mariah said as she joined Bowe at the porch railing. "Is it to scent her?" Over the last few days, Mariah had settled in here, as best as she was able.
"I want to know she's safe." Bowe had just returned from another failed attempt to locate Mariketa. Though he could scarcely believe it, the witches in her coven had allowed him to come and go into Andoain at will. But none could--or would--tell him how to find her.
Bowe had found that to the naked eye, the property had a proud-looking mansion surrounded by laden apple trees with shockingly green leaves. Butterflies flew everywhere.
Yet when he'd blinked for a fraction of a second, he'd seen an entirely different landscape. Hot stones choked up steam and smoke around a dilapidated manor house. Serpents wound along rotting balusters. That was the true Andoain--Mariketa's home.
"You are so miserable, Bowen. It's clear to me that she's cast a spell on you. What's unclear is why you seem not to care."
"Mariah, the years after your death were . . . harsh."
"I know. But I want to get past those times and look to the future. I need new memories. My last memories are of my death, and it was a . . . horrific death. But you know I don't blame you."
Then why bring it up? he thought, then flushed. She'd never irritated him like this before. But everything about her was different from the witch, so that meant everything about her was . . . wrong.
"I see so many things differently now. I want to learn your ways, and give you the children you've always longed for."
"What changed?"
"I was so selfish before and couldn't be more sorry for it. Death brought my priorities into focus. I want to create life." She smiled shyly up at him. "With you."
Here Mariah was, offered up to him as he'd begged the gods for decades. All the difficulties he'd had with her seemed erased. She wasn't a witch of unspeakable power, but a gentle fey.
She was everything he'd thought he could ever want.
And he wasn't even certain that the witch would take him back. They'd fought before the plane wreck and hadn't overcome the difficulties between them.
Yet none of this mattered.
Whether the witch was his mate or not didn't matter--because what he felt for her was stronger even than that pull. He'd already fallen for her.
For the first time in Bowe's endless, lonely existence . . . he loved.
50
Mari was shamed to realize that although the fates of the earth and of a thousand tormented lives and those of her parents were dependent upon her defeating Haxa, she still couldn't get Bowen out of her head.
She did assiduously study and train in her new home--the imagined shelter on her plane had become a melding of the cottage where she'd grown up, her room at the Andoain manor, and the island house where she'd fallen in love with Bowen. Elianna and Carrow spent every day with her here at--as Carrow had dubbed it--the "Cottanorouse."
Yet in between the times when Mari had learned how to attack and deflect and how to bind others' powers, she'd used the mirror to try to uncover more about how the princess was resurrected. Every time Mari consulted the glass about her, it grew blurred, giving up no information--which only convinced Mari further that Haxa was behind the resurrection. . . .
And sometimes, Mari found herself wanting to use her mirror simply to gaze at Bowen.
Like right now.
Mari furtively checked for her friends, peeking around the corner of her bedroom door. For some reason, she thought they might frown on her taking the time to stalk her ex-lover when the future of the world rested in her hands and all.
The two were in the cozy den before a fire. The coast was clear.
Apparently, Mari was not above spying on him--even though she knew she couldn't watch if he kissed his princess, or worse. So far, she'd rarely seen them together. In fact, Bowen spent more time at Andoain, or searching for Nix, than he did at the Lykae compound.
Yet sooner or later, she knew she was going to see something that she wouldn't be able to handle.
Do I really want to do this . . . ?
With a nod, she whispered, "Show me . . . Bowen."
The mirror image shifted until she saw him pacing the sitting room of his house, looking as if he hadn't slept in days. He also appeared to be intent on voicing something, yet couldn't seem to bring himself to do so. Mariah patiently sat on the sofa, hands folded in her lap. A perfect lady.
"Mariah, I was true to you," he finally began. "For so many years, I was."
"I know. You're a fine male. I couldn't be prouder."
"Damn it, I doona want to hurt you, but I have been with Mariketa, and I have feelings for her. Undeniable ones."
Mari's eyes widened. He was telling her this?
"Bowen, I understand how difficult all those years must have been for you. And I forgive you for your . . . indiscretion. But can't you see that the witch has tricked you? Enthralled you?"
"I canna believe that what I feel for her is no' real." He raked his fingers through his hair. "Would you want me, knowing I will never love you?"
The princess stood and crossed to him. "I can change how you feel about me. If you'll take me to your bed, in nine months you'll welcome our first child to the world."
If? So they haven't slept together?
"Think of it, we'll start the family you've always wanted--the family that you can only have with me. Things will be wonderful. I'll make you happy, and you'll keep me safe. Just as providence intended."
Gods, she's good.
"I'm sorry, Mariah, truly sorry for all you've been through. And I will help you find another male, a good protector--one who would love you as you deserve. I'll help you in any way I can."
He was truly telling the fey this!
Of course, Mari had known that leaving Bowen hurt, but she hadn't acknowledged how utterly devastated she'd been, until there was hope of being with him once more. Mari could help Bowen find someone for the princess--setting her up with another male was the ideal solution! Mari would be on the horn to Rydstrom and Cade directly. Hell, the princess was tall and blond--Acton would love her.
Mari frowned to herself. Would she actually set up her first love with another female just so she could have Bowen?
In a freaking heartbeat.
But Princess Mariah wasn't giving up yet. . . . "I surrendered my soul for you." She'd begun softly crying, and her tears were obviously killing him. "And you made an oath to me before you did to her. Can't you at least give us a chance? Don't you think you owe me that?"
"I do owe you that."
Mari's heart fell.
"But I canna live without Mariketa," he said, and Mari's eyes widened. "I will no'."
The princess was now openly weeping, and Bowen's expression clearly told how agonized he was about this.
"You--a loyal Lykae--would break your vows to your mate and give up your only chance for children, all for something that isn't even real? For a witch?"
Though he looked as if he was about to double over with guilt and shame, he still said, "Mariah, I will no' be moved from this. If I canna live with that witch, then I'd rather no' live at all."
Mari gasped. At once, Mariah's head whipped around, her eyes narrowing on the mirror.
There was no way she could have heard, and yet even now she seemed to be st
aring directly at Mari.
Impossible. Unless . . .
Mari broke away from the mirror. "Oh, great Hekate!"
Or rather, the great Haxa--wearing a false face. Mariah had never returned, had never been resurrected. This was all Haxa, and the sorceress was . . . feeding. Expertly building Bowen's misery, then seizing it.
"Elianna, Carrow, I'm going!" When they hurried into her room, she was yanking on a pair of canvas pants, with pockets along the sides--to be filled with as many mirrors as she could carry. "I've found her, found Haxa. She's wearing a false face, as Mariah. She's right through that mirror--currently feeding off my male!"
Wide-eyed, they gazed through the mirror.
Then with a sigh, Elianna said, "It figures--it's always either the butler or the resurrected mate."
As Mari frowned at that, Carrow asked Elianna, "Is Mari ready for this fight?"
Elianna seemed to force a smile. "Mari will never be more prepared to battle her than she is now."
Carrow was too jacked up with excitement to notice how cryptic Elianna's answer was, or how sad her eyes looked now.
But Mari got chills. I might die tonight.
"Here, Mari," Elianna said as she dug into her seemingly infinite apron pocket and pulled out a small, mirror-covered box. "Your parents wanted you to have these. They were made by druid weavers."
Mari took the box. Inside was a pair of fingerless gloves fashioned of a jet mesh. "Um, thanks?" They were striking, but maybe not so apropos just now. Mari's mentor was as befuddled as ever.
Elianna scrunched her lips. "Just turn them over."
When Mari did, her eyes widened, and she breathed, "Things--just--got--interesting."
Lining each of the palms was a mirror--made of spun-glass threading. The mirror mesh was perfectly flexible, smooth, and resilient. She slipped the gloves on, stunned by the fit, the soft fabric seeming to conform to her hands.
Elianna explained, "These gloves will be like mega-phones for your power. And you'll always have them at hand, so to speak, if you want to rub them for focus."
"Lock and load, babee!" Carrow cried, more than ready to engage the sorceress. "Marines, we are leaving!"
But Haxa wasn't like a rogue demon or a malevolent phantom, where one additional spell could mean the difference between success or failure. The sorceress would simply use Mari's friends to wield them against her.
Just as Haxa would do with Bowen if she discovered how deeply Mari had fallen in love with him.
