Shrugging, Marquis cooed, “Sometimes it is the ones closest to us that betray us first.”
A shiver ran down Adair’s spine, as he looked at the shadows collecting around them. The trees towered far above them, their branches looking like veins, a lifeline.
“Adair.”
The whisper tugged at his core. His whole body shook with the recognition, with the knowing that they were getting close. He stopped, slipping his bag free from his shoulders. Choosing not to answer, he grabbed a thin leather book, flipping the weathered pages open quickly.
The wind picked up unnaturally, and the Prince of the Shattered Isles stepped closer, “What is that?”
“My offering.”
He found the page he was looking for, the illustration of the trees bending, forming a doorway to where the mirror lay beyond, and the man bent before it. Before Marquis could react, Adair stood in one fluid motion, unsheathing the blade. Striking it across his forearm, the skin ripped, forming a deep gash. His blood welled and bubbled, looking a deep crimson in the fading daylight.
Taking a steadying breath, he softly said, “I am here.”
The world before them exploded into movement and a brilliant array of colors. He felt the ground shudder. The forest fell silent. Light fractured, spilling and washing them, as everything spun into chaos. Glancing over, Marquis stood in awe.
Blood trickled down Adair’s arm dripping thickly onto the ground below them, which was smooth and golden now. An archway rose, intricate carvings of the forest bowing together, and at the top, two gleaming red jewels stared down at them. A thick oak door was all that stood between them and the truth.
The forest was long gone, and with his shaking bloodied hand, Adair reached to grab the smooth doorknob. The handle twisted and then released, the hinges creaking loudly as the door slowly swung inward.
Adair whispered to Marquis, “Follow me, and please let me do the talking.”
For once, the prince just nodded, at a loss for words.
Their footsteps cracked like thunder as they passed under the archway, into a cavernous room. The floor glowed brilliantly, parts of it turning into liquid silver and forming four walls around them. It was quiet and empty, this place lying between reality and dreams; it was like walking into a jewel being melded and molded into shape.
Adair pulled his jacket closer around him, slinging his pack over his shoulder. He popped his collar out of habit, his hair standing on end. Marquis had frozen by the archway, in horror or fear, he couldn’t tell. His blood trailed behind him, flowing hot down his arm as he stared ahead, walking surely.
A throaty laugh bounced off the walls, distorted, as smoke started to spill from the middle of the room, crawling toward them like grappling hands. It stopped right before his boots, rising like a fog.
“Adair Stratton, you dare come see me again?”
The voice tolled with ancient magic, malice, agony, and despair. An iron tang filled his mouth as he rasped, “I have come with my offering. Will you answer my questions?”
That chuckled reverberated throughout the fog, as one by one, the golden hues started to fade, the inky blackness rippling throughout the room.
“Are you offering yourself or the prince?”
He sneered. “The prince has nothing to do with this.”
That throaty voice chuckled again, whispering, “Oh, I highly doubt that.”
The room was dipped into full-fledged night, like a flame being blown out. Adair’s breath hitched in his throat, and he twisted, trying to spot Marquis. He felt the slight shift of the floor, and before he could react, he was falling. Through the fog, through time and space.
The world roared around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His heart dropped into his stomach as he tried not to scream. The wind ripped at his jacket, his hair, and skin. The temperature dropped, ice crystals forming on his skin and exposed blood. He clamped his jaw so hard, he thought his teeth would shatter.
His body flipped violently, his limbs flaying. He dared to look, opening one eye and then the other. The sun hung low in the sky, bleeding into a sunset. At the same time, the full moon hung beside it, the remnants of night bleeding into the light. He fell through clouds, the ground below him, speeding up to him. Too fast. He could see the snowy tops of mountains below him, rushing up with their granite might.
His scream ripped through him, and his limbs flailed, trying to stop, trying to claw back up. The fog ripped the peaceful scene away, and Adair fell faster, briefly seeing the tunnel he was being swallowed by before slamming into the damp earth.
Everything went dark in a sweeping instant. It was like diving into the ocean, being pulled down by the waves, the sense of self stripped away. Hot blood filled his mouth as he bit through his tongue. Trying to find his bearings, shadows churned before him, those icy whispers cutting through the fog.
“Adair, you have come. You have come!”
Trying to slow his breathing, Adair watched as a pulsing light exploded below him. Its pale essence was like a lone star in the sky, entrancing him and pulling him in. His body slammed into something solid, cracking hard against it. The night clung to the room around him, besides that sole light.
With shaking limbs, Adair pushed himself up, standing slowly.
Adair was in another room, Marquis nowhere in sight. If the one they had entered was the heart of light, then this was the sealing promise of obscurity, the promise of danger heavy on the air. The coolness of the room sent shivers raking through him. Orbs of dew clung to the roots, hanging from the roof, and the smell of the forest after a rain filling his senses. It was both calming and unnerving.
Running his hand through his hair, he took in the creature he sought. Spindly arms hugged his legs toward his
