Page 23 of The Eternal Mirror
“I’m glad.”
“Then I thought I would go visit Brown. See if we can find a way back to Astrali without my father’s knowledge.”
“Be careful. They’re watching the Chamber of Mirrors.”
We stroll together, hand in hand, almost like a normal couple. I bring him up to date with what’s happened, ending with Sheela’s message.
“So your mirror magic doesn’t work? You’re stuck there?”
“Maybe. It might just be within the palace.”
“Yes. It’s never been possible to travel directly into the palace.”
I shrug. “But if I’m stuck in the palace, then it makes no difference. I’ll know more when I meet Sheela.”
“Just stay strong. We can do this. One day it will be over, and we will have a life together.”
I don’t answer, just glance away, and we walk in silence for a while. It’s peaceful here.
Then there’s a subtle change in the air, as if the universe is holding its breath. My footsteps falter. Khaos comes to a halt beside me.
Lightning slices the sky, and for a heartbeat, everything goes still.
Above us, the stars unravel.
And there it is.
A structure too vast for the mind to hold. Silver rings orbiting a radiant core, spinning slowly at first, then faster. Each ring is carved with symbols I don’t understand but somehow recognize.
And though it’s like none I have ever encountered, I know it’s a mirror. Maybe the first mirror. And the last.
My knees go weak. I can’t look away. The rings are vast, endless, terrible—and they’rewatching. My magic stirs in my gut like a snake uncoiling. Something in me knows this mirror. And something in it knows me.
Then the Mirror pulses—once, twice, and light fractures across its core, like cracks of silver lightning, too bright and too fast, as though something inside it is splintering.
“Amber!” Khaos calls to me.
I spin—but he’s already slipping away, dragged backward into the sky, his scream swallowed by the wind.
I try to run after him, but the ground vanishes beneath me.
I fall.
And the stars blink out.
“Amber.” Someone shakes my shoulder, and I open my eyes. It’s Zayne. “Thank Christ,” he says. “You were having a nightmare. We couldn’t wake you up.”
Josh is standing at his shoulder, chewing on his lower lip. His eyes are wide.
I push myself upright slowly. My heart’s still thudding, my body drenched in sweat, and my fingers twitch like they’re trying to hold on to something that’s gone.
I stare past them, past the room, past the real.
Was that a dream?
It felt too vivid. Too deliberate.
Not a memory. Not a vision. Something in between.
