Page 154 of The Mirror of Beasts

“L-Look at me.”

I did, feeling my body heat with panic and desperation.

“You know … what this is.”

Stone’s Embrace. One of the earliest curses he’d taught us, when we were barely old enough to write our own names.

Nash’s eyes seemed to drink in the sight of me in the darkness, even as he fought to smile. The stone spread over his left side, from his shoulder to his feet.

“Just—hold on, okay, old man?” I said, my voice strangled. “You don’t get to do this—you don’t get to—”

“Tamsy girl,” he said again, gasping hard for air as the stone passed over his chest. “Now … I know you’ll … be all right. You … feel them … because your … power … is …”

“Nash, don’t—don’t—” I couldn’t get the words out.

His gaze was still fixed on me, his free hand squeezing mine as his lower body and organs petrified and the curse swept upward, pain overtaking him.

“Could never have … dreamt a better … tale … than … my imps …” His last words came in a breathless rush as the curse stole over his chest. His throat.

His hand turned to stone around mine, trapping me there. Forcing me to watch as the stone swept over his mouth, his cheeks, his eyes.

And like the turning of a final page, his story was at its end.

Only a few minutes had passed when I heard my name called, but a strange, unreal quality had taken over my mind, one that turned seconds into days. I watched the stone face, waiting for a crack to appear—waiting for Nash to emerge from beneath it, having found yet another way to cheat death.

“Tamsin!”

Familiar hands, warm and callused, cupped my face, turning it away from the stone. Emrys appeared among the shadows, studying me with urgency before looking down at Nash.

“Oh, hell,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry.”

“It was … there was a curse …,” I said hoarsely. The still-rational part of my mind knew I was in shock, but in that moment, the only thing that registered was the feeling of being locked inside my own body. As if the curse had transferred through Nash’s touch and was now entombing us both.

I tried to pull my hand back, but it was encased in Nash’s rough stone fingers. The more I tried, the more erratic my breathing became, my body heating with waves of panic and horror.

“Hang on,” Emrys said. “Just a second, Bird, you’ll be all right—”

He turned my face away again, pressing it against his chest so I wouldn’t have to watch. His heart raced against my ear as he picked up a sword. The harsh clang of metal against stone wasn’t half as terrible as the dull throb of each strike, and, finally, the feeling of Nash’s hand crumbling against mine as Emrys struck at the fingers with the pommel.

The moment I was free, Emrys lifted me back onto my feet, holding me there until my legs solidified and the blood was no longer pounding in my ears.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked.

The shouting and hollering from the Wild Hunt hadn’t ceased, nor had the sizzle of spells. A truly malevolent stench blanketed the air—burning flesh and ozone. Smoke and sparks of magic drifted past the open door at the top of the stairs.

“Tamsin?” Emrys said, drawing my attention back to him.

“He was …” I couldn’t bring myself to explain any of it, not just then. “We need to … we need to find Neve.”

The High Sorceress had made it sound like she was bringing Neve to her own quarters, which appeared to be on the third floor, farther down the eastern wing from where we’d been held. The video feed Robin had shown me seemed to confirm that.

“Do you know where she is?” His beautiful eyes were studying me again in obvious concern, but he would never stop me. I knew that, and so did he. “Do you think she’s still on the third floor?”

I nodded.

“They protected the roof, so the hunt was forced to enter on the first level and fight their way up,” Emrys said. “We’re going to have to figure out how to overtake them.”

My thoughts were still thrumming with fear, but the basic pieces of a plan were there, starting to assemble themselves.

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