Page 7 of Crown of Envy

She paused, her gaze distant as if lost in the memories of the past. “Then, during the Jacobite rebellion, the crown vanished, and we haven’t been able to locate it.”

Damon leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “How did you lose it?” he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.

Zara’s eyes flashed, her jaw clenching. “We didn’t lose it,” she replied tightly. “Someone stole it, but we don’t know who. They used dark magic.”

Brody leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Did this crown have green emeralds?” he asked.

Zara blinked, surprise flickering across her face. “Yes, it did,” she confirmed. “How did you know that?”

“We found the emerald in our jeep,” Brody explained, his gaze locked with Zara’s. “Justice was holding it when the creature attacked him.”

Damon’s hands smacked the table, the sudden movement making Zara flinch. His eyes bored into hers. “You should know that,” he pressed, his voice low and accusatory. “You must have seen something. You were here at the Manor with Sean.”

Zara’s gaze faltered, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was talking to Sean, but I didn’t see what happened,” she admitted.

Brody broke the standoff between Zara and Damon. “What does this crown look like?”

She turned away from Damon, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It is a beautifully crafted artifact,” she began in a trembling voice. “Forged from a rare and shimmering green metal that glows faintly in the dark.” Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

“It is adorned with intricate carvings of serpents and thorny vines,” she continued, her voice strengthening with reverence and bitterness. “They symbolize the dangerous and consuming nature of envy.” She closed her eyes, drawing a shuddering breath as if the mere thought of the crown’s power was overwhelming.

“Embedded in the crown are seven large emeralds. Each represents a different facet of envy.” A single tear escaped, trailing down her cheek as she opened her eyes.

She turned back to face the others, her shoulders sagging. “It is a powerful and dangerous artifact,” she commented. “In the wrong hands, it could bring unimaginable destruction and suffering. We have searched for it for centuries, but every lead, every glimmer of hope, has turned to ash in our hands.”

She bowed her head, her hair falling forward to obscure her face as she fought to regain her composure, the weight of her failure pressing down.

Zara’s words stabbed me in the heart, and frustration bubbled inside me. Justice and I had just found each other. This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t lose him now.

I threaded my fingers through my hair, my mind racing with the enormity of the challenge. “If you couldn’t find it, how are we supposed to?” My voice was tight with desperation. The thought of not finding the crown wasn’t an option. I’d rip this country and all the realms apart to locate it.

Zara motioned toward the mirror I had put on the table. “With that. It will give you clues about where to find the Crown of Envy. All you have to do is ask it.”

Damon leaned back in his chair and smirked. “So what, we ask the magic mirror on the wall who’s the fairest of them all, and it’ll solve our little dilemma? Gotta say I like the sound of that. Beats traipsing through an enchanted forest or taking a bite of any suspicious-looking apples.” He chuckled darkly. “Though with our luck, even that damn mirror would probably try to screw us over. Nothing’s ever easy in this messed-up fairy tale we call life, is it?”

I picked up the mirror. “Where is the Crown of Envy?”

The mirror’s surface shimmered, and an ethereal voice that sounded hauntingly like my mother’s emanated from it. “Seek the forgotten depths beneath the streets of Edinburgh, where the dead slumber in eternal unrest. There, in the heart of the catacombs, lies the crown you so desire.”

That voice sent shivers down my spine every time I used the mirror. I never thought I’d hear our mother’s voice again.

Damon looked at me, the blood draining from his face. “Mom?” he whispered.

I glanced at my brother, seeing the pain and longing etched into his features. Our mother’s death had left a gaping hole in both our lives, but Damon had always taken it especially hard since he was the one who found her body.

Damon stared at the mirror as if in a trance. “Mom, is it really you?”

I clasped his shaking hand. “Damon, it’s not her. It’s the mirror using her voice.”

He blinked, tears glistening as he tore his gaze from the mirror to look at me. The raw vulnerability on his face made my chest tighten. After a moment, he nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to compose himself.

He shook his head. “Well, that’s just peachy. As if we didn’t have enough nightmare fuel already, we’ve got Mom’s voice giving us directions from beyond the grave.”

An image formed in the mirror of damp stone walls, eerie carvings, and winding passages cloaked in shadow. My heart raced, and a cold sweat broke out on my skin. The witches had searched for centuries without success. If the crown was hidden in such a foreboding place, something powerful must be guarding it.

“The path ahead is fraught with peril,” the mirror warned, its tone more ominous. “An ancient sentinel stands watch, a creature of darkness that has thwarted all who dared to claim the crown. Tread carefully, for its gaze brings madness and its touch, oblivion.”

I bit my lip, my heart pounding as I forced the question past the lump in my throat. “Will we have to give up a memory like we did with the Grimoire?”

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