Page 25 of House of Ydril

“Quinn?” I hear Moswen say.

I open my eyes and turn to her.

“I’ll need you to keep your eyes open for this part.”

“Oh, right.”

And I do keep them open, but I just end up stupidly staring at the empty wall.

“Can you feel it?” I hear Moswen ask. “What do you see?”

“I don’t see anything,” I reply, frustration already building in my chest.

“No,” she cuts me off, but there’s patience in her voice when she continues. “Youdon’t, but thereisno you. There’s only the choice to see or not see. Choose the former.”

I nod and I ball my hands into fists, determined to make it happen.

Seconds go by.

“And?” Moswen asks. “What do you see?”

“I don’t know,” I squeeze out, the effort making me feel strangely drained. “Maybe some kind of veil?”

“Alright, that’s great.”

“Really?” I ask, incredulous.

She lets out a chuckle. “Yes. Now all you need to do is to tear it down.”

“Easier said than done,” I say with a sigh, straining my eyes as much as I can.

But nothing happens.

Then it hits me. The thought makes me shudder simply because Iknowit’s right. I remember the Tree, the one that made me feel like I’ve spent my entire life blind. And I use that memory to try to erase myself from the equation.

Almost instantly, the world around me turns sort of liquid. And everything seems to be flowing, the way that I somehow knew it was all my life, without ever becoming truly aware of it.

A part of me wants to stop to enjoy the moment. The first time I’ve ever successfully used Sight. But then the wall before me shimmers and a shape starts appearing, making me draw in my breath.

“It’s an actual mirror,” I blurt out.

“What did you think it would be?” Moswen asks from behind my back. And by the strange sensation between my shoulder blades, I know she’s just tried to push me to take a step forward.

And I do. I stand directly in front of the Mirror and I ask with bated breath, “Who are my parents?”

Nothing happens. I only hear a chuckle from behind my back. I turn to see Nuala trying to suppress it with the back of her hand.

My eyes dart to Moswen, who is dead serious as she shrugs. “You know, the Mirror is a vain creature. You don’t have to use any words in particular, but you at least have to address it.”

For a second, I remain speechless, only my eyebrows raised. “Seriously?” I ask. Then I turn back to the Mirror and fighting the urge to laugh, I say, “Mirror, Mirror on the wall…”

The Mirror shimmers in response, making me draw in a breath. Quick, Quinn, I tell myself. “Who are my parents?” I spit out breathlessly.

As I wait for the shapes to grow clearer in the Mirror’s surface, my heart threatens to jump out of my ribcage.

But it doesn’t take long for me to recognize the pattern. It’s showing me the missing part of the wallpaper.

And there they are, I think as I let out a shuddering breath. Syllia and Drannor Olarel, Syllia born in 1957 and Drannor 1956, no recorded year of death for either one of them.

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