Page 1 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

Chapter 1

When my mind became too tangled, I liked to go to the Hall of Silvers at the center of the castle. To be alone, but not alone, surrounded by the whispers rising from the frosted glass.

I had been warned as a child to take care around the silvers. To never press a hand against the glass or lift the cloth coverings of the few that had been blinded. A moment’s carelessness would be enough to suck a person into another world, where a lifetime could pass in a blink.

Maybe that was the appeal of walking through the Hall of Silvers. The ease with which it would take to end it all.

Not that I wanted to, but I was a lady that liked to have a plan for every eventuality.

I unfurled my fist, playing with the shiny beads I had found on my armoire that morning. I was toying with how I would arrange them in my braid when I felt the familiar coo from my favorite mirror. A frame of gilded black sea glass and a cover wrapped tightly around the body.

I couldn’t help it. I loved that mirror.

When I had been younger, before it had been blinded, I would sit in front of the glass for hours and watch the darkness ripple.

Only my face, a pale and pearl-encrusted mask amongst shadows, was visible, but I used to hear voices through the glass once upon a time. Chattering conversations the like of which I had never heard before.

Families that liked each other. They spoke to each other. Children laughing and parents soothing.

My meals were silent except for the clink of silverware, but I would spend hours listening to the black mirror and wishing that whatever world lay on the other side would one day be my own.

A world that could dispel the madness that my mother had gifted me. Others could see the dark stain on my soul that I couldn’t quite wipe clean.

The black sea glass had been silent for so long, but I still found comfort in using its reflection. I always wondered what had happened to the family on the other side.

I reached the mirror and pulled the cloth from its face like a groom unveiling a bride, the material drifting with the current on the water. I sat down with a flourish and placed my beads in front of my crossed legs before taking my comb from the pouch on my waist.

I took a moment to study myself, from the pearl and opalescent freckles across my nose to the gills on my throat and the scales on my crossed legs and webbed feet. Periwinkle, azure, and silver.

I’d been told that morning that I needed to be presentable. Whatever that meant.

Once my personal study was done, I unwound my platinum braid. I began to comb, humming to myself as I completed my task.

The silvers around me took notice and mirrored the vibrations in the water.

My hair fluttered around my face like a silk cloud, a shadow of pure white strands in the water. My arms began to ache as I wrangled it back, wincing when I jerked my shoulder back too far—an old scar on my shoulder blade the cause of my pain.

My fingers twisted my hair, sliding each opal bead onto the light strands as I studied the shadows in the black mirror. The occasional shimmer of a fish or the moving twist of a reed.

I didn’t notice at first, but my heart rose to fit snugly in my throat when the shadows began to part.

I told myself that my mind was playing tricks on me. After all, the mirror had been empty for years. The sounds of whoever lived on the other side had long gone silent.

I told myself it wasn’t a glowing yellow light but a fish or algae.

My fingers shook as I finished my braid and smoothed it down with my hand.

The sensible part of me begged that I run, but I had never been rational. I was filled with a curiosity that felt hungry and somewhat foolish.

The glowing yellow orb disappeared for a moment, and the darkness shifted. Another orb of the same size appeared. Were those eyes?

“Can you see me?” I was proud of myself; my voice didn’t shake.

The yellow eyes blinked but said nothing.

“MAEVE!”

I jolted, dropping my comb with a clatter. Whatever moment had captured my attention was gone as the entrance to the Hall of Silvers creaked open, and a copper head poked around the side of the bronze door.

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