Page 17 of The Mirror of Beasts

Her fingers worried the pendant hidden beneath her T-shirt. The rare, pale stone was a Goddess Eye, said to amplify magic, and had been left to her by a mother she’d never known.

“But she didn’t ask who I was,” Neve said quietly, hugging her arms to her center. “She asked what I was.”

The air around us took on a deeper chill. I fought the urge to rub some warmth back into my arms.

“You,” I said firmly, “are a powerful sorceress. Not to mention you’re wearing an amplifier they were stupid enough not to take off you. Of course you could overcome their measly little wards.”

She bit her lip. “It’s … that light spell … I didn’t think anything of it while we were in Avalon. Sometimes magic can well up in an uncontrolled way, especially in moments of great danger or emotion. But the way those sorceresses reacted …”

“Doesn’t matter,” I told her firmly. “We know what death magic feels like—it’s cold, and remote. The Children were born from it and your light destroyed them, remember? It’s never hurt any of us.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I shouldn’t have let them get into my head like that.” Her lips twitched with a satisfied smirk. “They were totally freaking out, weren’t they?”

“Like cats caught by the tail,” I confirmed, letting her loop her arm through mine. “And I haven’t forgotten my promise. We’re going to find your mom, and you’ll have whatever answers you need.”

Neve let out a soft hum of acknowledgment. That pensive look was back as she said meaningfully, “Maybe you’ll get a few of those yourself.”

I couldn’t think about that now. Any of it. For once, I was grateful for the dark chaos swirling around us, and I gladly surrendered to its all-consuming horror. Nothing else could matter right now.

Nothing, and no one.

I swept my gaze around the shadows, guiding us over the curse sigils disguised in the mosaic floors, making sure neither of us brushed up against the walls, where a thick layer of moss could hide more markings. Step by step, the darkness of the vault bled away, and soon an arched doorway appeared in the craggy wall ahead of us, framed with light.

Caitriona and Olwen passed through the Vein first. Emrys approached the doorway, and for a moment, I forgot—I forgot he wouldn’t stop or look back over his shoulder, waiting for me to catch up the way he had a hundred times in Avalon.

But even that had been a lie. Embarrassment rang in my chest like a bell, deep and endless as it echoed against my bones.

“I can get rid of him, you know,” Neve said as he stepped through the door. “Stick his body in some forest where the fungi can happily eat his rotting flesh and regenerate into something that’s not a lying worm.”

I was genuinely touched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’ve been working up some interesting curse options, too,” she added.

“Interesting in what way?” I asked, stopping at the edge of the Vein. The sight of the spiraling threads of magic never got old.

“Stuff like, every pair of socks you own will always feel wet when you put them on … finding a maggot in every meal … having a bad itch you can never reach … burping every time someone says your name … always getting the squeakiest shopping carts …”

I laughed for the first time in what had to be days. “Can you really do all that?”

Neve lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Give me a few more days, I’ll figure it out.”

I shook my head, trying to run a hand back through my tangled hair as I faced the Vein, and what waited on the other side. I’d made some terrible mistakes in my life; I just had to hope we wouldn’t live to regret this one before we found out what memories had been stolen from the High Priestess’s vessel.

GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT

In all the time he’d been a member of the Hollower guild, Cabell had never been invited to the Dyes’ Summerland estate.

Curiosity might once have been enough to tempt him, especially if it came with the assurance of a big job—an expedition he’d never be able to fund himself for a relic he might otherwise never set eyes on. But on the whole, it had been easy to live without knowing what the inside of the palatial home looked like. He hadn’t even tormented himself with wondering what treasures or resources the Dyes were jealously guarding from the rest of the guild behind their tony walls.

Nothing good came of coveting things that were never going to be yours. It only made you feel bad, knowing what you lacked. Better to focus on what was meant for you, and to hell with the rest of it.

The gravel driveway crunched under his feet as he stalked forward, matching the powerful strides of the dark figure a step ahead of him. They’d arrived in an icy whirlwind of shadows that had bit at his senses. It wasn’t necessary to travel by Veins now. His lord could transport them between locations in the blink of an eye.

Cabell had never been a stranger to magic, but this—Lord Death’s magic held the vastness of a night sky. It was no misty, sweet song. It thundered, triumphant and unrelenting. It was inescapable, like death itself.

The elaborate iron gate at the base of the driveway had been left open, anticipating their arrival. Cabell shook his head. That was the way of it with the Dyes. They assumed everything would always go to plan, that others would come when they called, that nothing was beyond their reach, not even a god.

Their house reflected that confidence with its grim-faced determination to take up as much space as possible. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such a grand structure, accented by turrets and sweeping stone arches, outside of actual castles.

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