Page 91 of The Mirror in the Mountain

A ribbon of shadow wrapped around Eva’s eyes, blindfolding her, though she had promised me she wouldn’t look. She shivered as a gust of wind brushed snow from the trees, bespeckling her chestnut hair. I pulled her cloak tighter around her, using it to tug her closer to my side. The moon lit her face in an otherworldly mosaic of light and shadow, and I couldn’t help but run my thumb along her jaw, tracing her lower lip as her mouth curved upward at my attention.

“Just a little further,” I promised.

In a clearing of the forest, a fire crackled merrily, blankets already laid out on the logs my shadows had pulled into a circle around it. A paltry version of our first nights in the Faewilds together, but a passable one.

“You can look now,” I whispered low in her ear, smiling at the way her breath caught. A tremble traveled through her that had nothing to do with the cold.

Eva’s lips parted as I let my shadows fall, her eyes gleaming in the firelight. That perfect dimple formed as a slow smile crossed her face, the stress of our journey banished for one single moment. I gave her an easy, lazy grin in return like everything was as simple as I wished it could be. My fingers spanned the side of her face, my focus wholly centered on herlips as I leaned in and kissed her, feeling her melt into me in response.

She let out a soft sigh as she pulled away, sitting down heavily in front of the fire like the weight of the world had crashed back down on her shoulders.

“I thought we could both use a moment,” I explained as I sat beside her, slinging an arm around her waist and dragging her legs across my lap.

Her smile was a little sad. “More than one, but I’ll take what I can get.”

I pressed a kiss into her hair. The fire crackled, the embers flying upward before they faded into the snowy trees.

Despite the circumstances, traveling through the woods with Eva brought back a flood of perfect memories. Even if this time, our bed was shared rather than two bedrolls carefully positioned head-to-head, our hands reaching for each other in our sleep.

A hint of melancholy crossed our bond, and I realized Eva’s eyes were closed as if memorizing this moment. But I could sense the instant her thoughts darkened, her exhaustion a sharp contrast to the way her apprehension thrummed, could hear the careful cadence of her breathing I knew was instinctual. It killed me to see her so scared, so hunted. I was suddenly afraid of what I might see when she opened her eyes.

When she did, her irises had darkened into pools of obsidian. My shadows wrapped around the wisps of night that darted from her fingertips almost uncontrollably, my heart lodging in my throat.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Eva let out a bone-weary sigh. “The same thing I’ve been focused on since we began this adventure. When we get inside that mountain, I need to find that mirror.”

“Weneed to find that mirror,” I corrected her sharply. “Do you think you have to do this alone? To face him by yourself?”

“Ifthe mirror lets you pass,” Eva countered. “Even with your Celestial eligibility, it’s not like there’s a rulebook. If this is my destiny, then what if it only lets my magic through?”

I glared at her, and she glowered right back. “Then Tobias will come with you to help. Your bloodlink should be enough even if I can’t?—”

“What exactly are you worried about? That Aviel will kill me, or that I’ll do it for him?”

My reply stuck in my throat.

She slammed her hand down on the log and darkness shot from her fingertips, careening into the night. “Do you think Iwantto die? Do you think that every time I look around me, I’m not reminded of what I have to lose? That when I look at you, I don’t knowexactlywhat I’d be giving up?” Her voice wavered. “Do you think I don’t want another way? A different world?”

It broke something in me to hear the vulnerability in her voice, the fear of what was to come. The pang of her grief that resonated in my own chest. Wordlessly, I held her more tightly.

“Of course, I’m afraid it might come to that,” Eva whispered. The flecks of gold in her eyes seemed to come alive in the flickering firelight. “But what I have to do is more important than fear.”

“We can do this without your sacrifice,” I said staunchly. “Wecanstop him.”

“I dowantto believe you.” She pressed her forehead to mine. “But even if I don’t…” Her voice broke off, and she swallowed. “Do you really think we can stop Aviel without killing him?”

“Way ahead of you, hellion,” I said, grimacing at his name on her lips even though I was happy to see she wasn’t avoiding it any longer. “After you’ve gone through the Choosing, we’ll fight him together, wearing him down until he’s drained of his stolen power. Then secure him in iron to keep him from touching anyone else to gain more.” Eva shuddered, and I knew she wasthinking about the iron box I knew still haunted her nightmares. A ruthless part of me hoped we could track down that same box after this war was over and let Aviel live in it for the rest of his life. “And then we’ll finally trap him under the mountain he was supposed to be in all along. Or at least until we can figure out a way to undo what he did.”

If that was even possible.

She nodded slowly, consideringly, even if something about it felt placating.

He deserved to die. For the curse, for the wars, for all of it. For my father’s death at his hand, and my mother’s death because of it. For the murder of Eva’s parents, for her brother’s imprisonment, and for everything he did and tried to do to her. For the nightmares still lurking in her mind and for the ones that turned out to be real. And for all the years she spent sad and suffering and lonely.

But not at the cost of her life.

Eva absentmindedly rubbed her hand against the scar by her neck and rage coiled in my stomach. She looked tired as she quietly said, “But if it doesn’t work…it’s not such a terrible thing, to die for what you believe in and for the people you love. To leave this world to make it a better place.”

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