The Thief

into the stacks. I glanced after him, and then turned my attention to the book.

The Human Masters

It has been stated elsewhere that humans have no powers beyond the tools they invent. As with all rules, there are exceptions. Loosely and inaccurately chronicled in the legend of 'The Four Accomplished Brothers,' there exist four human bloodlines with inherited abilities. Whether or not these abilities are magical in origin is unknown. These powers may be a genetic anomaly, or an enchantment upon these houses. Unlike fae and ferals, whose abilities are usually randomized by individual and not by family, these four human bloodlines each only exhibit one ability, and each follows different rules. Unlike fae and ferals, whose abilities do not fully manifest until the age of sixteen, these rare humans typically have access to their powers from birth.

The Prophet - the highly sought after ability to peer into the future sometimes manifested in the royal house of Weissager, previous rulers of the kingdom of Angwar. All Weissager Prophets were born blind. However, the royal family perished in the Golden War and their kingdom was claimed by Anastos Ryan.

The Inventor - creativity is a human trait often lacking in ferals and especially fae; in the Miller line this trait is hyper-focused and can express as the Inventor, possessing immense genius. As this is an easily hidden ability, Miller Inventors are often difficult to identify until they choose to share their inventions with the world, but are accredited with the creation of most of the greater magical artifacts, as well as spearheading human technological - non-magic - advancement. The Millers fled to the Oncelands during the New Exodus.

The Null - greatly despised by fae and ferals alike, the Tailor family very rarely produces individuals who act as a sort of magical void - they can nullify the abilities of others, and break the enchantments of most magical objects. It should be noted that they cannot remove abilities permanently, only dampen them. The more powerful a Null, the greater their circumference of influence - the most powerful Null on record could create a magic void five miles across. The Tailors fled to the Oncelands during the New Exodus.

The Hunter - rumored to predate the other three, Hunters belong to the ancient house of Grimm. Unlike the other three, whose abilities are very rarely born into their respective lines, all Grimms are born Hunters. A Hunter possesses heightened awareness of surroundings, infallible memory, and natural proficiency with weaponry. The last confirmed Hunters, Richard and Alan Grimm, were rumored to have been killed during the Golden War by a Ryan raiding party, but other rumors suggest one of the brothers may have escaped across the mirror.

Note: While the connection is still unclear, a Tailor Null is always born at the same time as a Ryan Mirrormaker. Neither ever appears singly - they only exist as a pair.

“Mirrormaker?” I said.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” Rhys said, returning to the table with several new books. “The power to create magic mirrors. A rare fae ability exclusive to my family. And that’s what I am. I think.” He spread the books out, looking pensive. “I’ll know for sure in a few months. My powers only work inside this mirror, so far. Outside, in the real world, I may as well be human. My mother’s fault.”

“What did she do?”

“She’s human,” he said distastefully. “So I’m a hybrid. Who knows how my powers will actually turn out? That’s why I have to study,” he said stiffly, flipping open another book. “Somewhere in here, there has to be a book that talks about controlling Mirrormaker powers. This tower was built by Mirrormakers - every one that’s powerful enough to get In Between has added on to it. There’s even a workshop upstairs full of unfinished mirrors. One of them has to have left some sort of instruction manual.”

I ran my hand over the page of the book I held, savoring the texture of aged paper. “So I’m a Grimm, huh?”

“Like your father and grandmother before you. Hunters,” he muttered, attention on his own book. “I shouldn’t even let you stay in here...”

“Let me?” I echoed, some of the alien bravado rising.

“We’re practically archenemies by birth,” he went on, ignoring me. “Or did you miss the parts where my great-great-grandfather nearly succeeded in killing off all the human master bloodlines?”

“But you’re not him, right?” I said.

His gaze flicked up to mine, briefly. “This is the only side of the mirror I’ve ever known. If I can create a travelling mirror, cross over to my father’s kingdom in the Afterlands, I can prove my worthiness as his heir. I’ll be king one day. All I have to do is work out my powers. But there’s no one here to teach me, no clues as to what’s wrong with me...”

“Well it says here every Mirrormaker has a Null to go along with it,” I said.

“Don’t remind me.” He came around the table and leaned over my shoulder to retrieve the book. My heart gave an awkward lurch at the nearness. He smelled like pine and old books.

“You’re not happy you have a counterpart out there somewhere?” I said. “It sounds pretty romantic.”

He gazed down at me, challenging. “It’s anything but,” he said. “The Tailors have been the bane of my house since...since who knows when. Regardless, it doesn’t apply to me. Being a hybrid must have messed it up somehow.”

“You don’t know that.”

“John Tailor is the last of his line,” he said. “My family has kept close tabs on the Tailors for obvious reasons. Would have hunted them to extinction if they hadn’t escaped the Afterlands. They’ve never been very prolific - he’s an only child, and he’s never been married. There are no Tailors my age.”

A chill went through me. Everything I learned about his family kept piling more doubts against his motives. His inheritance was oppression and privilege. But there was something in his desperation to prove himself that I understood.

“Guess you’re not a Mirrormaker then,” I said lightly.

His eyes widened. “Don’t you dare - ”

“I was joking!” I grinned. “Jeez, lighten up!”

The flush that spread across his cheeks was almost as endearing as the way he tried to hide it, looking up and away, trying for haughty. “You’re as bad as Kei.”

“At least I’m better to look at,” I rejoined. What was I saying? It was the Tower talking.

“There is that,” he allowed, and it was my turn to blush. I hoped it wouldn’t be as obvious since I wasn’t as pale as he was.

“Why do you hang out with Kei?” I asked.

“I don’t,” he said flatly. “I’m obligated to endure his presence. He’s...my bodyguard,” he said, reluctance plain in his voice.

“What, seriously?” I looked up at him.

“Yes, seriously.” He leaned against a bookshelf, arms folded, mouth in a hard line. “My mother is a little overprotective.”

“Because you’re the prince of a fairy kingdom,” I prompted.

“How can I get you to never word it like that again?” he asked dryly, one eyebrow arched.

I smiled, and he looked away, eyes on the far wall. “I have an idea,” I said suddenly. “What if I helped you research?”

He looked back, eyes wide, but immediately his expression was cautious. “In trade for the journal, I assume?”

“I’ll be your research assistant,” I said, folding my arms, enjoying the strange new confidence. “If I can help you figure out how to make a traveling mirror, that’s got to be worth one journal?”

“Maybe...” he allowed, struggling not to sound tempted by the idea. “I suppose I could...use another pair of eyes...”

I looked at my watch and gasped. “I need to get home before Bea,” I said, turning to leave.

Rhys caught my arm, looking down at me intently. My heart thudded. “Remember,” he said, “if you tell anyone - anyone at all - the deal is off. If you try to take anything out of here - I don’t care what it is - the deal is off. Understand? My hospitality is extremely limited.”

“No kidding,” I laughed off my nerves. “Alright, yes, I promise. Don’t tell anyone. Got it.”