Page 13 of The Eternal Mirror
As we walk through, we pass two women standing at the entrance, almost like guards. They cast me an interested look, and I feel the hum of magic in the air—normal this time, not Khronus’s twisted version. They must be witches. For some reason, it surprises me to find them here in the palace working for Khronus. It feels like a betrayal. I realize how little I know of what goes on here on Astrali. Khaos had been very reluctant to talk about his home world. I don’t think he has fond memories of the place.
“Witches? They work for you?”
“Of course. Most people on Astrali are loyal to the throne.”
I find that hard to believe. Even though I don’t know much about the workings of this place, I do know that Khronus made it law that all witches with mirror powers have to register with the Council. I also know that Sheela’s parents fled rather than register. They were caught. Her father—Khronus’s own brother—was executed, and her mother vanished. Like many before her. Now, there are no mirror mages left.
Then I come to an abrupt standstill, and my blood freezes. “You fucking bastard.”
In front of us is what looks like a Roman amphitheater. We’re situated high above it, looking down on the sandy arena. In the center, a beautiful, fierce basilisk is tethered by one clawed foot. Zayne.
Usually, he towers twelve feet tall, but right now he’s cowering close to the ground. His sleek, serpentine body is hunched and the iridescent scales covering him are dulled to a smoky gray. I’ve never seen a basilisk looking terrified before, but I can see it now in every inch of his body. He’s almost shaking, the barbed point of his tail twitching, and I want to cry. What is he so frightened of?
Then Zayne moves to the right and I spot Josh. And every muscle in my body turns to ice. He’s against the far wall of the arena crouching down, arms wrapped around his skinny body as though to make himself as small as possible.
A hot, furious rage fills me.
I hate him. I fucking hate him. I turn slowly. “Let them go,” I growl.
“Not quite yet.” He considers me for a moment, eyes half-closed. “Tell me where Khaosti is.”
I don’t even think about it. Khronus has spies everywhere; it’s probably a test question. “He’s on Valandria.”
He nods as though it’s no surprise. “Shift,” he orders.
Not happening. Once I release the spell that’s stopping me from shifting, he can control my every move, and then there will be nothing to stand between him and killing Zayne and Josh just because he can.
“Let them go, and I’ll consider it.” I think I might have enough magic to include Zayne in the spell, but he needs to shift back into human form first.
Khronus turns away and steps closer to the edge. If I could reach him now, I’d kill him. But I know the shield will stop me. I hold my breath, my heart racing as I wait to see what will happen next.
A doorway in the arena, across from where Josh is huddled, slides open. For a few seconds, nothing happens. Then four black wolves stalk out of the shadows. I know instantly they’re not normal wolves. They’re bigger, and their eyes glow with magic. Shifters.
Khronus keeps his attention on the arena but speaks to me. “They are from the Wolfpack. My son’s legion. They are loyal to Khaosti. Let’s see how they do against the basilisk.”
A scream builds up in my throat. I swallow it down.
Don’t panic.
I know Zayne can take them; I’ve seen him in action. But he shouldn’t have to kill these men. Because that’s what they are—men whose only crime is loyalty to Khaosti. But it’s too late. A silent command from Khronus sends them forward, their movements jerky as though they are fighting against his control. And losing.
The first leaps for Zayne, and he swipes it with his free claw, sending it flying through the air to crash into the wall below us and then to the sand, dead. Another gets close enough, and he snaps it in his jaws, crimson blood spraying from the ripped jugular.
Another is circling around, heading for Josh, and Zayne unleashes a stream of fire. The animal screams and rolls away in a ball of flame.
The last is whining low in its throat as it moves inexorably closer, a puppet at the command of a monster. It dies in the basilisk’s fire.
Zayne lunges as close to us as the chain will allow. He raises his head and stares up towards where Khronus stands. Then he sends a burst of blue flame roaring across the space between us. It hits the invisible shield surrounding Khronus, and the heat of the blast burns my skin. Then Zayne goes still. He’s seen me, and he takes a slow step back, then settles on his haunches and stares at me. I hold his gaze and will him to be strong.
“For now, I’m not controlling his actions,” Khronus muses from beside me. “But that could change in an instant.”
For a second, my mind goes blank as it refuses to comprehend his threats. But I know what he means, and I shudder in horror. He is beyond evil, and unlike my father, he really has no excuse.
“You can’t do this,” I say.
His expression remains bland and unyielding. “The boy is expendable. I will still have the older one, and a basilisk shifter is interesting.” He turns his head to stare me in the face. “And you need to be taught a lesson.”
He turns his attention back to Zayne, and a shudder ripples through the basilisk. I can almost see the panic in his eyes as he fights the compulsion.
