Page 9 of The Mirror of Beasts

Her eyes flashed in the dark, as sharp as any nocturnal predator’s.

Where? she mouthed.

Before I could speak, one of the sorceresses—the younger one, if my ears hadn’t betrayed me—raised her voice enough for it to carry clearly down the hall.

“The terror we’ve feared for centuries is upon us and the High Sorceress can’t be arsed to even look for the bloody thing he’s demanding we return?”

Caitriona’s eyes met mine again, widening.

My body tensed. What thing did Lord Death want them to return?

At least we won’t have to warn them about anything, I thought miserably.

“What’s going on?” Olwen’s voice was groggy as she came to. “Where are we?”

“Shh,” Caitriona whispered. “We’re all right.”

“How is any of this all right?” I whispered back.

“Does …,” Neve rasped out from my right. “Does anyone know where we are?”

“A vault,” I told her, scraping the spike against the metal restraint as hard as I could.

“Oh. Well … that’s not the worst thing, is it?” Olwen said. “Didn’t you say you have experience with sorceress vaults with your job as a … what did you call it?”

“A Hollower.” A glorified treasure hunter of legendary relics. “And my experience is with breaking in, not out.”

“We’re with sorceresses?” Neve said.

I realized, a split second too late, what was coming. “Wait—!”

“Hey!” she shouted. “This is a mistake! Hello? Did you hear me?”

I let my head fall back against the stone ground with a sigh. So much for the element of surprise, never mind the distant dream of escaping.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Three cloaked figures strode toward us, emerging from somewhere deeper in the vault. An antique-style lantern floated beside them, as if carried by an unseen spirit.

“Marvelous,” one said, and I recognized the voice belonging to Acacia. “You’re finally awake.”

Her face was like white velvet beneath the braided crown of her pale hair, and the flawlessness of her beauty set her apart as something other, something to fear, because it could only be a lure. And her eyes … they were spiteful as they assessed us, before turning to her companion. “I told you it wouldn’t be much longer, Hestia.”

Hestia revealed herself to be the wiry one with tan skin and a slightly pinched expression as she declared, “Best to start with the one that doesn’t have magic.”

The cuffs around my wrists fell away, and in a rare moment of composure, I scrambled back on clumsy limbs, colliding with a soft form behind me—Neve.

“How quickly courage flees when their master is not there to protect them,” the nameless one said. Her pale blue eyes were rimmed with heavy plum liner the same shade as her knotted hair.

“M-Master?” I croaked. “Hang on, what are you talking about?”

“Listen,” Neve began, sounding entirely too reasonable for the situation we were in. “There’s clearly been some sort of misunderstanding—”

A hot band of pressure locked around my waist and yanked me back toward the stone bars of our cell. I bit my tongue painfully, blood exploding in my mouth as Acacia spun her hands in a mocking show of reeling me in. The small spike slipped from my fingers as I tried in vain to drive my heels down to fight the pull of magic.

“Stop this!” Olwen pulled against her manacles. “We’re not your enemies!”

“Is that so?” Acacia flicked her wrist, and I was flung like a doll up against the bars. Stars burst behind my eyes as my temple collided with the rock. Magic shoved at me from behind, and my ribs screamed in protest.

“Release her!” Caitriona roared.

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