Page 110 of The Mirror in the Mountain

And then it stopped. The sudden silence rang in my ears. Rivan slumped to the ground.

“How did you…”

“Avalanche,” he panted, as though that part wasn’t obvious. “You move the right piece of rock and…The whole side of the mountain will be keeping that door firmly closed against whatever’s left of Aviel’s forces,ifthey manage to dig themselves out.” He let out a short laugh. “We’d better hope our people have enough fire and water wielders to find us at the end of this.”

He’d taken out the army outside the mountain in one fell swoop. It was a small miracle he hadn’t managed to kill himselfright along with them. I gaped at him, unable to find the words to express my astonishment.

“Now go,” Rivan demanded weakly. “Go help her. There’s nothing else you can do here.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I said even as I knew I needed to. But there was so much blood on his hands, still dribbling between his fingers. Too much blood. And with his magic this drained, I knew he didn’t have it in him to heal himself.

“There’s nothing else you can do here,” he said grimly. “I’ll be right behind you. But I’ll only slow you down.”

He gave me an echo of a smile. Like it might convince me he was okay, even as his blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

To leave him was unfathomable. But the alternative…

Myanimaneeded me. And the entire realm needed her to succeed.

“Make sure they survive this,” Rivan ordered.

My grip tightened on my sword like it might stop my fingers from trembling. “I will. Stay alive, or I’ll kill you myself.”

With one last glance behind me, I ran into the passageway myanimahad taken, praying to any god who would listen that I wasn’t too late.

And that I wasn’t leaving my brother behind to bleed out in an icy tomb.

Chapter 48

Eva

Dread curdled in my stomach as we squeezed through the narrow tunnels, stone pressing in on all sides. The darkness felt unnatural, insidious, my own magic cowering away from it like it was an ancient monster about to swallow me alive. I could barely see a few feet in front of me despite the dim sconces that flared every few meters as we passed, each one extinguishing a moment before we reached the next. My heart seemed to stop each time we were plunged into total darkness, then raced as I prayed for the light to return.

I tried to take a breath, but my lungs wouldn’t function, an aching, weighted sensation pressing in on my chest. My throat felt like something was closing around it—a phantom collar that constricted ever tighter.

Trembling, I tried in vain not to picture the dark box I had been trapped in. Tried not to feel like this place, with the walls pressing in, wasn’t another coffin. That these dark tunnels weren’t leading me to my doom.

I sucked in a loud, gasping breath, then another, struggling to get the knot in my chest to loosen. But I couldn’t take a deep enough breath, couldn’tbreathe?—

“Hey.” Tobias wrapped his arm around me. “Big breath in. Count each second. Breath out. And count the same.”

Tears sprung to my eyes as he repeated the words our father had said so many times. I took an unsteady breath in before exhaling to the same slow beat even as I forced my feet to keep walking. We didn’t have time for this. Especially when the thought of being afraid of the dark when it was the source of my Celestial power felt both absurd and shameful.

Tobias’s arm stayed securely around me, holding me upright.

“Again,” he said firmly.

I followed his command, clinging onto the semblance of calm each breath brought. “I know it’s not the time to?—”

“You don’t have to excuse yourself to me,” Tobias said quietly.

“The box…” I whispered anyway, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of our footsteps.

“The cell,” he whispered back. “And that godsdamned mask. I’m not exactly the biggest fan of dark, confined spaces either. Though I have to admit, after so long in that cell, being out in the open…” His swallow was audible. “The sky feels too large.”

My heart squeezed like it might break apart. We had been traveling forhowlong through the forests, making camp in open fields under the endless sky? I hadn’t even realized his daily discomfort. And I had been so focused on my own fears that I hadn’t thought to check in on my brother, whose trauma had obviously left a lasting mark, despite his stoicism.

I could commiserate when I whispered, “You must be so tired.”

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