Page 83 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

Withdrawing his silver dagger, Asheros holds it in front of me so the blade runs perpendicular to the ground. Moonlight makes the silver metal gleam, and I can see my eyes reflected on the surface. He closes his eyes and the metal seems to ripple. The effect on the dagger’s surface is slower than the mirror’s, looking more like molten rock than water.

This time Viridian’s face doesn’t appear in the image reflected on the dagger’s blade. I squint, trying to make out more of the minute details.

Only, there are none.

All I see is blackness and what appears to be a grainy texture.

Wood?

What object did Asheros’s spell connect with?

“Viridian?” I ask, keeping my voice just above a hushed whisper. I don’t know where he is, or where in the castle my image is coming through, and I don’t want to alert anyone other than my intended recipients of my presence.

I wait a moment with no response.

“Viridian?” I repeat, raising my voice.

A shuffling sound emits from the dagger, and then the image shifts, like it’s being picked up and moved. Golden-brown eyes connect with mine.

“Cryssa.” I exhale, letting my mouth perk up. “So glad to see you’re not ignoring me.”

“And deny myself the pleasure of talking to one of my favorite people?” She snorts. “Not a chance.”

“Good,” I say, my lips parting for my grin. “Is Viridian nearby?”

“He’s right here.” She turns her face away from me. Another one comes into view. From what I can see, Viridian’s wispy black hair is tousled, falling in front of his amber eyes. His lips are puffy, and there’s a glint of something in his expression.

“Gods above,” I groan to myself. “Have I interrupted something?

“No,” Viridian shoots out a little too quickly, running a hand through his hair, sweeping it back from his face. “Nothing at all.”

Cryssa’s cheeks are flushed, and from the mischievous smirk playing at her mouth, I know it’s not from embarrassment.

“Where am I coming through this time, anyway?”

He pauses. “The back of Cryssa’s hairbrush.”

In front of me, Asheros chuckles softly, the dagger wobbling a little when he does.

“Sure.” I draw out the word. My eyes flick to Asheros, my smile widening, and then back to Viridian. “Whatever you say, Your Majesty. Regardless, that’s not why I wanted to speak with you.” The amusement fades from my voice, leaving my tone all-business. “Have you heard from Myrdin as of late?”

Viridian furrows his brows. “Myrdin? Not within a fortnight, no.” He angles his head, mouth tightening. “Why do you ask?”

I take a breath, then press my lips together. Part of me wants to be honest, but I can’t. It’s for their own good. Besides, other than what I do know of our suspect’s appearance, I have no real proof Myrdin’s responsible for Vorr’s death.

Not yet.

“I’m merely gathering information.” Keeping my suspicions to myself, I ask, “What was the last message you received from him?”

“Nothing unusual. Simply a status report with nothing out of place.” Viridian’s eyes narrow. “Is Myrdin in danger?”

“No,” I tell him, shaking my head.

“Then what is it?” Cryssa asks, pointed curiosity bleeding through her voice.

“I don’t have enough facts to make a proper determination, but once I do, you two will be the first to know,” I assure her, though both still don uneasy expressions. Perhaps communicating with them was a mistake.

Regardless, it’s much too late to change that now.

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