Page 56 of The Other Side of the Mirror

Chapter24

Eva

Iwoke up on something soft, my head aching. For a heartbeat, I thought I was home in my bed, and all this was one long, crazy dream.

But when I opened my eyes, there were a pair of dark gray eyes inches from mine, a curtain of long, dark brown hair falling around our faces. I yelped, and she jumped back, swearing at the shock. Instinctually, I tried reaching for a blade that wasn’t there. But my hands were still shackled, and now hooked above my head, attached to a giant silver headboard that had been polished to a vibrant luster.

I was no longer in the dungeon, though that didn’t give me any comfort. Because, based on the massive room filled with ornate, mostly white furnishings, I knew I was now trapped in Aviel’s chambers.

Chained to hisbed.

Bile crowded my throat, and I fought the urge to throw up. And Aviel had my brother, who had been locked in his dungeon for gods knew how long…

A cry broke free from my lips. My hand flew to my mouth as I tried in vain to stuff it back down, the silent stranger watching me closely. But there was only the cold metal of my shackles, the kiss of it against my mouth bringing me back to the here and now.

A grim form of acquiescence settled in my veins, and I forced my nausea down. I couldn’t afford to be anything less than composed. Not if I was going to survive this.

Find your exits, my dad demanded in my mind.

Keeping one eye on the brunette wraith, I surveyed the room. There was a large paned window on one side of the bed, framed by white curtains with silver tassels, but I knew I was too high up in this tower to use it as an escape route. Not unless I had a death wish. The walls and ceiling were adorned with intricate white molding, but I saw no hint of a trapdoor or other means of escape.

On the other side of the bed was a slightly ajar door that had to lead to a bathroom based on the sliver of white marble counters I could see. I had a vague memory of being bathed while half-conscious, arms holding me upright, and my stomach turned at the invasion. There was a living area past it, where an uncomfortable looking white couch and matching high-backed chairs sat in front of a tall, gilded fireplace. I bet the door that connected to my chambers was in there. And, not for the first time, I wondered if it was locked.

I sat up enough to see the double doors of the entrance, covered in complex carved details. They stood at least a dozen feet tall and were bound in gleaming silver—large, star-shaped handles in the center of each. I heard a muffled cough. The other side of the entrance was obviously guarded against my escape…

But that wasn’t my most immediate problem.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice hoarse from disuse.

My silent companion ignored my question, picking up a glass of water from the bedside table. Begrudgingly, I let her hold it to my lips and took a long, grateful gulp before she pulled it away. I was too thirsty to worry if it had been drugged. But I doubted it. Not when they used the syringe the last two times. She handed me a piece of crusty bread covered in butter. I clumsily held it between my shackles, never taking my eyes off her as I scarfed it down like an animal.

She stepped back, and I took a moment to study her. The long brown hair, the curve of her breasts and hips, offset by a smaller waist. I swallowed hard as I took in the dark smudges under her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks. Her face was paler and the rest of her willowier compared to my toned physique, but we could almost be sisters.

I scooted back against the headboard so I could sit up, wrapping my arms around my knees with a clink of chains. While I was unconscious, someone had dressed me in a pale-blue gown made of semi-sheer fabric that left little to the imagination. I tried not to think of who had done so, or how helpless I had been during it.

“I used to be you,” she said in a high, sing-song voice, a crazed smile on her face. She rubbed her wrists as though remembering the shackles that now bound me, her fingers not quite covering the white of her scars. I didn’t expect the force of my outrage as I realized exactly what she meant. “But it seems His Majesty has found a new plaything. Are you the one he’s been searching for?”

“I think so,” I quietly replied. “But if you’ve been where I am, then please…you have to help me.”

Her entire body tensed, and I could see the fear wash over her before that wild smile returned. She stepped toward me, and I willed myself to be still as she reached out to play with a stray lock of my hair.

“He always said he liked my hair,” she said as though in a trance. “But he was just waiting for you. And took me to bide his time.” Her eyes were tormented as she stared right through me, her grip pulling a little too tight.

“Please,” I whispered, desperately suppressing the dread clawing up my throat. “Don’t let him…don’t let this happen. Not again. There must be a key?—”

“I think not,” she snapped, and my hopes plummeted. “I haven’t survived this long by doing anything His Majesty didn’t want of me.”

There was a prick in my shoulder before I realized why she had remained so close.

The drug was kicking in, my consciousness fading away far too fast. But I managed to ask, “What’s your name?”

I could see her wild, gray eyes even as mine fell shut—too heavy to stay open. “Alette. But that’s not going to save you, little bird.”

Then the darkness pulled me under.

* * *

My eyes tried to flutter open. I caught a glimpse of the thick white fabric of the canopy over the bed before they closed once more. My head was spinning so violently that I didn’t try to open them again for fear of vomiting. The familiar bite of shackles covering my hands barely registered, though a sick feeling followed as I realized how quickly I had adjusted to this new reality.

---