by Chanda Hahn
Tonight, I needed something stronger, and I would seek the help of the dark mirror.
The black framed mirror hung on the wall across from mother’s high-back chair. As I passed the settee, I saw a green knitted scarf Maeve had abandoned and stuffed under the cushion. The closer I drew to the mirror, the more uncomfortable I became. I never liked the mirror or scrying. I would pick up stray feelings, and I never knew where they came from. If it was the person I was scrying, or the mirror itself.
I shuddered. That was impossible. The mirror couldn’t have feelings. Could it?
Most mirror spells required a drop of blood, except for this mirror. Once again, another oddity that made the Eville mirror rare. I brushed my finger across the cold surface and felt the magic stir and wake up.
I smiled when I saw the silver metal antennae Rhea attached to the mirror had become a permanent fixture to the frame.
Unsure of what to do, I cleared my throat, and politely asked, “Mirror, can you show me Rya?”
The mirror flickered and fog filled the glass, obscuring the view, an effect of the curse or magic that was currently affecting the kingdom. Biting my bottom lip, I thought of a different command.
“Mirror, show me Liam.”
The clouds parted, and I saw a little blond-haired boy about eight running around a churchyard. His clothes looked to be hand-me-downs and had been repaired and patched up multiple times. His boots were worn, and one heel had come loose from the sole, but he didn’t seem to care. He found a wooden stick and pretended to slay dragons and monsters. Near to him was a woman of the church who watched over him.
A familiar man with spectacles stepped out of the church, and a towheaded boy leaped off the steps while a somber-eyed girl followed.
The brown-haired youngster immediately picked up a stick and joined the blond-haired boy in his imaginary game.
“What’s your name?” the brown-haired boy asked.
“Liam.”
“I’m Devin,” the boy made a face and pointed to the girl. “That’s Delphine.”
The mirror obeyed, and I then understood just how powerful this mirror was. It not only showed the present, but it could show the past. I was watching the very first meeting of a young Liam and Devin. I never realized that Devin and Delphine were brother and sister.
“Hello, Sister,” Duke Tallywood addressed the woman of the church. “I was told that you have someone you wanted me to meet?”
“I do, Duke Tallywood. He’s been with us for years and desires nothing more than to train to be a knight in service to the kingdom. I was wondering if you could sponsor his training.” She gestured with her hands, and the two adults watched the young Liam and Devin spar.
Liam was quick, his moves elegant and natural, the stick sword an extension of his arm. No matter how Devin swung his own stick, Liam was quick to deflect and charge.
“He is something. I’ve never seen someone move that quickly. He’s a natural swordsman. Who were his parents?”
“We don’t know. An old woman brought him to us about eight summers ago, and he’s been in our care ever since. I thought you would help him, for his talent is like nothing I’ve ever seen. He is a natural protector of the younger wards of the orphanage. I can vouch for his temperament and personality.”
Duke Tallywood watched Liam and Devin play. Devin over swung and fell forward, skinning his knee. Liam immediately dropped his stick and attended to his playmate.
Delphine rolled her eyes and tugged on Duke’s sleeve. “Can we go home now, Papa?”
“In a minute, sweets.” Duke Tallywood nodded his head. “I see what you mean. I’ll do more than sponsor him. I’d like to adopt him. I think he will go far, and he may make the order of First Light proud. He’d make a fine brother to Devin and Delphine.”
Rubbing my hands together, I tried to gather the courage to ask the mirror my next question.
“Mirror, please show me the missing heir of Rya.”
The mists cleared and showed a dark forest. A man wearing a dark hooded robe left a swaddled bundle on a stump. The babe stirred and cried. The man didn’t even look back as he left the baby in the woods.
Is that it? I wondered. A babe a few days old, abandoned to die.
A flash of lightning and the gentle patter of rain began. The baby cried harder, and I wanted desperately to reach through the mirror and help. A shadow moved on the outskirts of the mirror and drew closer. I held my breath, hoping it wasn’t a predator. But no. A woman came, her head covered in a hood. She picked up the baby and soothed its cries. Another flash of lightning revealed the hooded figure, and I recognized the woman.
Oma.
I strained my neck to search its mists when it cleared again. It was to see my own reflection, and that of Mother Eville right behind me.
I jumped, clutching my hand over my heart.
Mother stepped up to the mirror, and hissed, “What do you think you’re doing? How dare you show her this?”
Confused, I looked over my shoulder as the mirror went dark.
Mother glared at the mirror, her hands on her hips, and she turned to look down at me disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She sighed. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re right, I’m not. But I have to understand what is going on so I can help.”
Mother moved to her high-back chair and slowly sat down. Her normally perfect hair had come undone, and there were bags under her eyes I hadn’t noticed before.
“Did I just see the past?” I asked.
“Yes, the mirror is only supposed to show the present,” she glared at the dark mirror, “but it does have the power to look into the past.”
“And that baby is the rightful heir to the kingdom of Rya?”
“Yes,” Mother breathed out.
“I didn’t know if I should believe the rumors about the missing heir, but you keep hiding things from me.”
Mother’s fingers trembled, and she blinked.
“But I’ve also been to the fae court, and down the hidden tunnel. I’ve seen the cell and the remains of your sleeping spell,” My voice was a whisper.
“So, she has been freed.” Mother crumpled. Her trembling hand reached for her brow and she whispered, “I was afraid this day would come. She is one of the strongest magic wielders I had ever met. I had hoped you would never ever cross paths with her.”
“Why?” I asked.
She gave me a solemn look and shook her head. “Because her grief makes her dangerous.”
“Who is she?” I asked. I became impatient and picked at my mother’s mind. Daring to go where I had not dared to enter before. Mother’s hand rose, her eyes locking with mine in warning. “Be careful, Aura. You may not like what you learn.”
She wasn’t going to stop me. I felt her release her guard. The walls dropped, and she let me into her deepest parts of her mind.
I’m sorry.
Then I learned everything she had hidden from me and I cried.
Mother’s lip trembled as she brushed away her own tears of shame. She cleared her throat and gave me a stare. “You can despise me later, but right now you have to make a decision.”
She gave me little time to process what I had learned. “Take into account everything you know, and the vision I’ve foreseen. This decision must not come lightly.”
“I need to go back,” I said.
Two dark silhouettes hung back by the stairwell, and I felt their worry and apprehension like clouds hovering over me.
“You’re not strong enough to do what needs to be done. I should be the one to go.” Mother stood up from the chair and she stumbled, reaching for her head. She quickly sat down again. “Well, then again, you’ve grown stronger.”
What about the vision? Maeve asked mentally, unable to voice her fear.
“I’ve accepted it and so should you.” I turned and addressed both my sisters who were hiding on the steps eavesdropping.
Maeve looked uncomfort
able but nodded.
Rhea patted her closed fist against her hip. “So, how do we get Aura back there in time to save the day? I won’t have time to craft another item.”
“Leave that to me,” Mother said. “But promise me, Aura, that you’ll try to understand why I did what I did.”
Anger burned within me at the injustice of what I’d learned, but I held silent.
I couldn’t agree. I just pinched my lips and glared up at the woman who raised me, and who had lied to me. “I make no promises.”
“I understand.” She turned to her other daughters. “You two, go back to bed. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”
“Okay,” Rhea said, yawning and retreating up the stairs.
“That’s not fair!” Maeve raised her voice in protest. “We should go too.”
“You will obey me,” Mother snapped.
Maeve dropped her head and kept silent.
I softly tiptoed up the stairs to my room and felt Maeve keep pace with me. When I went to crawl in my bed, she took her shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders and tucked me in before going and laying on Eden’s empty bed.
“Maeve—”
“Hush. Just let me stay here. I promise I’ll only think happy thoughts.”
I snorted and rolled over and was instantly hit with Maeve’s disgruntled anger.
Happy. I’ll be happy for her. Going on an adventure . . . without me. Causing havoc . . . without me.
Her thoughts were not cheerful, but they were familiar, like the soothing sound of rain during a thunderstorm. Eventually, I fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Come, Aura, it’s time.” Mother stood at the edge of my bed, a leather bag slung over her shoulder.
“It’s the middle of the night?” Maeve grumbled, rolling over and looking out the window to the dark sky.
“It’s magic hour. The best time to open a portal between the realms,” Mother replied.
I shot up in bed and looked at my mother in awe. “A portal?”
Mother rubbed her arm and looked uncomfortable. “I am doing what I swore I’d never do.”
“That’s dark magic,” Maeve said in wonder.
“And very dangerous. Remember what happened with Rosalie when she tried to close one. The backlash scarred her for life.”
Maeve’s exuberance quickly dissipated. “I forgot.”
“And you should never take magic for granted.” Mother turned to me. “Quickly, get dressed.”
Maeve lunged off the bed and hurried for the stairs. “Not you, Maeve,” she said.
Maeve halted, her momentum almost carrying her down the stairs. She gave a pleading look to Mother.
“You will stay here,” she ordered.
Maeve whined and headed over to the bed. In a dramatic show, she plopped down on the bed and grumbled at us.
Faster than a fairy chasing a sunbeam, I changed into a black overdress that laced in the front over my long sleeve chemise; my hair I left long, as I didn’t waste time braiding. I borrowed Rosalie’s midnight blue cloak as the thorns had destroyed mine. As I was leaving the room to head downstairs, Maeve sent a parting thought.
Leave a window open . . . please.
I winked in response.
Mother was waiting for me, a lantern in her hand, and dressed in a blood-red cloak embedded with gold symbols. It gave her a foreboding aura.
Hack, who was curled by the fireplace, looked up as I moved near him. Be careful.
I know. I leaned down and gave him a pet behind the ears.
At first, he was standoffish, but then he lost himself to my touch and purred.
Missed you.
I missed you too.
You’re not coming back, are you?
I thought back to the vision. I don’t think so.
Hack leaned forward and gave me the most feline appreciations. A head bump. You’re my favorite.
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes at our last farewell. You’re my favorite too.
A sigh of regret followed, and I glanced toward Clove, our brownie. She held out her little stubby hand and waved goodbye to me. The tears refused to stop.
Mother headed out the door, and I followed, but not before secretly cracking the kitchen window. As we crossed the threshold, mother turned and put a locking spell over the tower to seal any doors and windows that were already shut, making them impossible to open. And I knew she did that to keep Maeve inside.
We walked in silence. The lantern creating a warm glow. I followed behind her as we headed back to the glade.
“You were there that night.” Now that we were out of earshot of my sisters, I wanted answers.
“Of course, I was there. I’ve been at the christening of every royal child in all the seven kingdoms, not as myself mind you, but in a glamour. When Tatiana appeared in the royal court, she was insane with grief, intent on destroying not only the child, but everyone in the palace and Somnielle, the town below the mountain. I have no love for the king or queen, but I care about the people. It was a devastating battle. I won . . . barely, and I did not walk away unscathed.” Mother pulled at the collar of her dress and showed me a zigzag scar that I’d never seen before.
“You stole the heir.”
“No. The child was taken that night, but not by me. By another’s hand. But I tracked the child down to an orphanage. I did what I could to protect the child not only from Tatiana, but from the king and queen. I altered the memories of everyone in the room to forget the child ever existed.”
“But why erase the king and queen’s memories of their own child?”
“Because you still don’t know the complete story. Sometimes those closest to us prove to be the most dangerous. Despite my spell, the rumors of an heir still spread. And by now, the king and queen surely would remember what I’d done.”
“You didn’t get everyone.” I shook my head. “An old woman named Oma remembers.”
Mother muttered under her breath. “Well, there’s no use hiding what I did anymore.” Mother stopped and looked around the fairy circle. “You ready?”
My stomach dropped and roiled with uncertainty. Maybe I wasn’t the right person. I couldn’t talk sense into the madwoman. There was no way I could save a kingdom, let alone from someone as powerful as Tatiana. Just the thought of her sending me away, and this time potentially getting ripped into shreds, had me feeling sick.
Mother must have seen my expression, for her hard face softened. “We all have a destiny. We have to make hard choices. Just remember that Tatiana isn’t the villain.”
“She’s not?” I asked.
“No, we are.”
I swallowed and remembered all the years of fear and hate directed at us. The misunderstandings, the stones and mud thrown at me by the villagers in town.
She placed her hands on my shoulders and gave a squeeze. “You’re my daughter, who I raised to bring vengeance upon the kingdoms. Vengeance earned because of their wickedness. Remember the reason Tatiana went mad. It was because of the death of the fae. Hundreds of fae mercilessly slaughtered by a cruel king.”
I sucked in my breath and nodded. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“Whose fault is it?”
“The King of Rya,” I said sharply.
She patted my cheek. “There you go. Maybe you will do better than I did. I always wondered what would have happened if I chose differently back then. If I had cursed the king or heir with the sleeping spell instead.” Mother raised her dark eyebrow up at me. “You never told me why you left. Maeve has been ever quiet as of late. I know she contacted you in the mirror.”
I felt my cheeks grow warm.
Mother frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for the stranger?”
“I am.”
Her voice dripped with disapproval. “Love will only cloud your judgement. You must do what I could not. Don’t repeat my mistakes.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
“Good.” Mother took out a pi
ece of chalk and drew symbols on the ground. “The veil between realms is already thin here. It hasn’t had time to heal. It will be easier to send you back from the same spot in the fairy circle and will require less magic from me.”
“Where are you going to send me? It has to be somewhere you’ve already been in Rya.”
“Don’t worry, it will be somewhere close,” she hedged. Her hands glowed, and she wove a spell in the air. Magic filled the surrounding space, the scent strong and heady. I watched as a portal appeared. A vortex of magic, and on the other side, a dark blur. Too early in the morning in the kingdom of Rya to make out exactly where I was going to land. There was a good chance that she would be knocked out, or have her magic exhausted by doing this because she wasn’t fae.
A glowing circle rising up like a column of white light appeared in front of me.
“Goodbye, my daughter,” she said. “Stay safe.”
I raised my hand to wave goodbye and stepped forward, feeling the pull of magic. A dark shape flew toward me just as the portal closed. A stabbing pain ripped through my chest, and I cried out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It hurt to breathe. The pain radiated from the black crow that had barreled into my chest at the last second of the spell. Now, I lay sprawled on the ground, my back sore from the impact with the stone walkway.
“Maeve,” I moaned, releasing my sister. “That was reckless. You could have ended up split in two.”
The crow flew to the ground, and I watched her shift, something that I never got tired of seeing. Her body elongated, the beady eyes becoming sparkling pools of mischief, her black feathers becoming long, waist length hair.
“Really? Had I known that I might have rethought my plan,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She reached out a hand and pulled me to my feet. “Thanks for leaving the window open. I knew mother would spell the windows and doors.”
