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None of them reflect the room. Instead, each holds a window to somewhere else.
I spot the forest glade I saw once before, moonlight dappling the ground beneath ancient trees. Another mirror shows the throne room. Another one pulses with violet light and endless shadows. The Amethyst Forest? Or somewhere far worse?
Flexing my fingers, I move to retrieve my bat, which rests against the wall beneath a mirror displaying a rocky mountain that could be anywhere. The magical portals are windows peeking into other places, but they also show the shadow of my reflection moving past.
They twist my movements, so for every step I take, another dozen versions of me step in other directions. My reflection here isn’t quite right. The left eye shimmers silver, the other one black. In the mirror to my left, my reflection doesn’t move right. It blinks too slowly, its motions half a heartbeat behind mine.
I frown, remembering how the glasscrawler slid into the mirror Caelan pulled me through. Did it also follow me here? Is it now in the mirrors that lead to other planes of existence?
Caelan picks up my rune knife, holding it out hilt-first. “You dropped this. I wouldn’t recommend using it inside the palace.”
“I don’t recommend being kidnapped, either, but here we are.” I snatch the knife and sheath it, still scanning the edges of the mirrors for any sign of my bounty.
Caelan studies me. “Is something the matter?”
I arch a brow at him. “Aside from being back here?”
He grimaces. “I had hoped for a happier reunion.”
“Then you should have come to my side of the mirrors instead.” I gesture to his nose. “You should call your healer.”
He wipes the blood with his sleeve, smearing the white material with berry purple. He studies the stain before his silver eyes shift to me. “Should I expect to find a shirt without a sleeve soon?”
I smirk and wave my gloved hand. “No need. Elionn’s collar was enough for me.”
The witch who did my tattoo wrung just enough from his bloodied shirt to ink the runes.
“I was curious if it would work.” He gestures for me to walk ahead of him out of the mirror room.
“Peeped on that, too?” I shake my head. “Shouldn’t you be off doing princely things instead of creeping around after me?”
“But you’re my favorite pastime,” he says in a tone so flat I can’t tell if he’s joking. “I didn’t think the spell would work, though, and I’m concerned that it did. Please keep the glove on at all times so it does not give anyone else ideas.”
He pauses near the king’s console table, one piece of polished wood in a room designed to impress.
The air hums with old magic, tingling on the tip of my tongue, enriched by the scent of night-blooming flowers drifting from the bathing chamber beyond. Jewel-lit floors whisper beneath our steps, already reporting my arrival to the king whose bedchamber we invade.
Caelan picks up a pair of familiar ear cuffs and holds them out to me. I wore them last time I was here, too, to disguise my humanity.
“Wonderful. The chameleon wildling has returned to the Silver Spire.” I take them and slip them on, the illusion they hold settling over me. “Does this mean we’re going to see the King?”
“Yes. He’s in council.” Caelan leads me out of the king’s chambers, past wardrobe doors inlaid with silver maps of the five courts that make up the Concord. “He’s expecting you.”
“I’m not putting on a dress.”
He barks out a short laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You did well back there.” I tilt my head back the way we came. “Have you been training with Elionn?”
He stiffens at the mention of his twin. A heartbeat later, every trace of reaction disappears behind courtly control.
I don’t push. If I’ve learned anything about the Silver Princes, it’s that emotion is always buried under diplomacy.
After a moment, he dips his chin. “For a few years, before he vanished.”
“Years?” I prop the bat up on my shoulder as I walk beside him down the white marble hall. “But I’ve only been gone a few months.”
“Time doesn’t work the same here.” Sadness fills his eyes. “You’ve been gone a long time.”
