Page 23 of The Other Side of the Mirror

He was a strict taskmaster, having me repeat each exercise again and again until he was sure I had internalized it. Demonstrating how to push and pull with tendrils of darkness by curling them around branches, the strands solidifying enough to tear the limbs from the trees. He showed me how to use my magic as a shield, while spears of his shadows tried to find a weak spot to force their way in. And he taught me how to disappear into the shadows of the forest, wrapping my darkness around me like a cloak.

I begrudgingly found him to be an exceptional teacher, endlessly patient and calm. My magic, however, was a volatile, unpredictable creature. Yet he never got frustrated at how long it took for me to learn something—explaining the thought behind each motion, each detail. Making sure I understood how to use my magic on a fundamental level rather than just mirroring his movements.

“You’re not focusing,” Bash murmured.

My darkness didn’t seem to want to solidify—fading into wisps instead of breaking the rock in two like Bash had already demonstrated.

Whyhad I thought this would be easy, this foreign magic in a foreign realm?

What if I was wrong about all this and this whole adventure was another way for me to run away?

Bash’s forehead creased as he quietly added, “And you’re stronger than you think you are.”

Thatunnerved me more than I wanted to admit—that he was able to read my expression without me saying a word.

“I know exactly how strong I am,” I snapped, rubbing my temples.

“Let’s take a break,” he said too gently.

I looked away, my fingers clenching against my scar.

There was a ringing in my ears, pressure forming at the base of my skull. Bash seemed to notice my pallor as he led me to a shady rock, taking my arm—touching me for the first time all morning. He dropped it as soon as we sat, digging into his pack. Skillfully cutting an apple with his blade, he dipped a slice into a nut butter before wordlessly handing it to me.

As we ate in silence, I couldn’t help but take the excuse to study him further. The way his eyes changed back to blue and green, instead of the dark gray they turned when he summoned his power. The creases around them that could only be laugh lines. Bash’s auburn hair was dark with sweat, and he pushed the damp strands from his face, revealing the patter of freckles on his hairline.

There was something so enticing about his wry half smile as I stole the last piece of apple from under his hand, the right side of his mouth tugging up in revolution to the other. When he dipped his finger in the remains of the nut butter, I became acutely aware of the way his mouth closed around it.

He had long since lost his shirt again from the heat of the noon sun, and my eyes trailed downward despite my best intentions. When he looked at me, I quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring at the powerful, corded muscles of his arms and shoulders, the rippling lines of his stomach. The deep vee of muscles that disappeared beneath his belt…

Those laugh lines deepened. “See something you like, hellion?”

I elbowed him in the side, sighing inwardly when his solid muscle didn’t budge an inch. Thankfully, Bash didn’t make any more fun of my attention beyond a lascivious smile that told me he knew exactly where my eyes had pried. Then he tilted his head, as if trying to figure me out in return.

I dropped my eyes to avoid his gaze but reached out as if unable to help myself, tracing a long scar down his side. It was one of many that covered his body, but this one stood out, a wicked white line that cut a path through the freckles on his bronzed chest. He stilled, and I pressed my advantage.

“What’s this from?”

My fingers gently traced it up and down. He quivered slightly under my touch.

“The battle that took my father from me.”

The grief that flashed across his face with those words broke my heart.

I moved to pull my hand away, immediately regretting the question, but Bash caught it in his own before I could, his large hand dwarfing mine. I was aware of every breath as we stared at each other, lost in the intensity of his eyes.

When he dropped my hand and stood up, it was an effort to gather myself back together. Somehow, Bash kept managing to unravel the cloak of indifference I kept wrapped around myself. I looked away, feeling like if he unspooled it any further, it might fall apart at the seams.

“Let’s give it one more go before we move on,” Bash insisted, as if nothing had passed between us, immediately reverting back to the oh so serious taskmaster. “I want you to try delving as deep as you can go. To drag your magic up from the depths, slow and controlled. I’ll sleep better when I know for sure you can defend yourself with it.”

Looking like he hadn’t meant to say that last part aloud, he pointed out a few smaller trees, and mimed blasting magic at them as he explained the technique. When he demonstrated, his shadows shot toward the nearest tree, gathering around it like smoke in the wind, then demolished it so quickly that when I blinked there was only a pointed stump left behind, the wood petrified.

I tried to reach into myself, to gather my power. But my darkness felt like it was playing with me like a cat with a mouse. I felt drained, tired out, and it tauntingly evaded my unsteady grip.

Clenching my teeth, I delved deep into the pit of my power, sinking into it despite the sick feeling in my stomach. Unease tore through me, and suddenly, there was a familiar screaming in my ears.

A line appeared between Bash’s brows, concerned at whatever he saw on my face. “Use your fear, don’t bow to it.”

I bore down against the abyss, readying to strike…when my power flared as though it would consume me. The strain was so great that my teeth started chattering, my body shuddering, as a prickle of fear stole down my spine.

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