Page 149 of The Mirror of Beasts

The darkness in my vision was spreading. Scenes of other halls, other worlds, other faces flashed through my mind, too quick to grasp, to truly see.

“You were never supposed to see this.”

I spun around on unsteady legs.

Nash stood in the doorway, his face blurring as he came closer. Before I could speak, before I could move, my mind sank into the darkness clawing at it, and I knew nothing more.

At first, there was only the warmth surrounding me, the steady rocking of the world, a fierce heartbeat against my ear. The temptation to stay there, in that moment of dark serenity, was overwhelming.

But in the end, I forced my eyes open.

Nash’s face hovered above mine, his gaze forward as he searched the darkness around us. For a moment, I didn’t understand what was happening, only that he had hooked one of my arms around his neck and was carrying me.

“You can’t ever do what I tell you, can you?” he was muttering, his steps quickening. “All the bravado of a peacock and the sense of a pigeon …”

“I think you mean Lark,” I rasped out.

His steps slowed and he looked down at me in the dusky hallway. The walls around us were stone, and here and there, a few lanterns had been hung along the scattered rooms. The damp cold made me feel as though we were trapped under the earth.

This is not where I’m supposed to be.

Memory rose as quick and painful as a blister. I twisted, wrenching myself out of his arms, away from his coaxing hands. My legs threatened to buckle, too unsteady to support my full weight.

“Don’t be a fool,” he began.

I took in the hall around us with growing horror. It was a cellar of some sort. It had to be. “Where are we?”

“We’re leaving” was all he said.

“No, we’re not.” I tried to move past him. “We’re going to get the others. We can’t leave them here.”

“You’re bloody well right we can, and we will!” Nash snapped at me. “You are my concern, not them. And we will find whatever Veins Kasumi’s hidden down here if I have to drag you kicking and screaming!”

I took a step back, disgusted. “You really are a coward, aren’t you? You put on a great act in Lyonesse, but all you ever do is run—”

“I don’t care if you hate me for all eternity—I’ve hated myself enough for both of us over the centuries.” He gripped my shoulders, shaking me. His usual swaggering confidence had unraveled, and what was left was raw. Tense. “All I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever tried to do, is protect you, and each time I found you, it was always too late.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “What does—what did you mean that I was never supposed to see those tapestries?”

His hold on me eased, but he didn’t let go. Pain, alive and burning, flashed in his eyes.

“You always died—that bloody spell was supposed to protect you, but it became a curse,” he said hoarsely. “She must have done something wrong, and mine was useless to stop it.”

My blood beat a hard rhythm, turning my breath shallow. “Your … power?”

I knew Nash had the One Vision, so he had at least some magical ancestry. But he’d told us he never inherited his father’s Cunningfolk talent.

He looked down at me again, saying nothing. He shook his head, as if deciding something once and for all. “You need to remember this now—your curse. You need to remember.”

“Remember this?” A dark, sinking feeling overcame me. “You’re not making any sense—why wouldn’t I—?”

That memory, the one I’d forgotten. The story of the Goddess’s daughter.

Horror wrapped its cold hands around my throat. “You did something to my memories, didn’t you? That’s your power.”

His gaze held mine, almost pleading, but he didn’t deny it. But that was impossible—that wasn’t one of the known Cunningfolk abilities.

Pressure built and built in my chest. It felt like ice was coating my lungs. “You had no right to play with my mind! To take anything from me!”

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