Page 61 of Death is My BFF

“Alexandru.”

“I’m Bastien.” He scrutinized me up and down with his eyebrows drawn inward. “You have an unusual imagination, Alex . . . ”

“I am telling you the truth. He has been imprisoned in this mirror for a long time. My friend, he was punished for stealing food for his sick wife. The evil man who trapped him, the man who my friend stole from, practiced the dark elements, and now my friend suffers. If we do not help him soon, he will be encased in his own nightmares and memories for all eternity. My friend says I can help him create a bridge to cross worlds because I am half-human. I could save him, but I need your assistance. You are a good man, I can tell. You have a kind heart, and you are exactly the person I need.”

Bastien roared with boisterous laughter, and my shoulders crippled inward a little in defeat. He didn’t believe me.

“Do you have a family, son?” Bastien said, wiping at a tear as he composed himself. “They must miss you. Go to them. Stop playing pretend and be a man. Soon it will be dark, and these parts of the woods are filled with wild cats and other creatures of the night. It is not safe for children.” He began to walk away. “Come with me, I will lead you back to my horse.”

“Wait!” I took out the curved dagger I had buried in the sand, clenching it at my side. “I have proof. I will call to my friend with this blade, and you can meet him yourself.”

The rider glanced over his shoulder, his attention snagging on the weapon. “You will put that knife away, child. I do not want to play your game—”

“Ahrimad!”I shouted, pivoting, and straightening my arm to point the dagger toward the mirror. “Ahrimad, I summon you!”

A great wind kicked up, knocking leaves off the trees, and spreading the rest of the vines, growth, and thorns away from the ancient mirror. The reflective surface rippled like silvery water and a low whistle pierced the air, making Bastien cover his ears.

“He is here!” I said, smiling as I moved closer to the mirror.

“Ahrimad, can you hear me? I told you I would find a good man.

This is Bastien!” I grabbed Bastien by the arm, ushering the stunned man forward. “Bastien will help us, so you can finally be freed, I know he will!”

Bastien looked up at the darkening clouds above the willow and took a step away from me. “What is wrong with the sky?” he demanded, his voice wavering. “I hear . . . whispering. Where are those voices coming from?”

“My friend has returned,” I explained. “Do not be afraid.

Ahrimad is funny and clever. He is kind too.”

Evidently mystified by the mirror’s waving surface, Bastien allowed me to lead the dagger to the mirror.

“Come closer, Bastien,”whispered a voice. Startled, Bastien looked down at me, and I gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s all right, Ahrimad will not hurt you.” I ushered Bastien closer and placed the weapon into his hand. “He said the man with a pure heart must point the hilt of the blade toward the mirror, and this will unlock his prison. Like this.”

I guided Bastien’s trembling hand with the base of the dagger pointed toward the mirror. As the hilt of the weapon hit the surface, the mirror stilled and the whistle in the air amplified. I winced at the unexpected reaction and clamped my hands over my ears.

“What witchery is this?” Bastien cried, and my eyes widened as I saw that blood trickled from his ears. “What have you lead me into!” Bastian let out a howling scream and tried to pull back from the mirror, but his hand and the dagger had fused with the surface. A burst of energy suddenly exploded from the mirror in a sonic boom, knocking me back to the ground and pinning me down.

Two silvery, wet hands flew out from the mirror and gripped Bastien’s arms. They seized the dagger out of his hand and stabbed him repeatedly in the heart. Blood sprayed the ground and Bastien’s face as he roared in agony. I gaped at the scene in horror, tears filling my eyes. My screams lodged in my throat as I watched the rider get brutally knifed to death.

Bastien’s limp frame was heaved forward by those silvery hands and pulled into the mirror, until there were no remains of his body.

The mirror’s surface cracked into a million pieces and exploded into shards. I threw an arm over my face to shield myself as bloody glass rained down to the earth.

An amorphous figure glided forward from the willow tree and took shape, bending and twisting, until it converted to the silhouette of a man with a draping obsidian cloak. With his face concealed, the creature tilted his head down at me, and I went cold as ice.

“Ahrimad?” I whispered.

“Hello, my friend.” He drew his sword in one fluid motion.

Through widened eyes, I saw it was engraved with the same intricate designs as the dagger I had discovered. “Whatever creature you are, reveal yourself to me now, or I will have to destroy you.”

“I-I am only mortal.”

“You dare lie tome!” My eyes widened as he thrust his sword out and dug the tip of it into my throat to pin me to the ground. “No onecan touch my blade. Not without turning to ash.”

“Perhaps it is because my father’s blood runs in my veins. He is a demigod.”

---