Chapter Twenty-Two
I awoke in the clothes I'd arrived in; a full set of underwear, purple heels, and a black, linen, over-the-knee dress that should have been horribly wrinkled but seemed to be freshly laundered every time it was returned to me. I sat up and yawned awake.
I was in a frothy, white, four-poster bed, my body sunken into its down comforter and veiled by its diaphanous curtains. The rest of the room seemed just as feminine through the haze of white; a padded bench at the foot of the bed, a lace-covered dressing table to the right, and an Oriental folding screen beside it. There was a collection of dainty chairs set between the vanity and the bed, and Narcissus was sitting in one.
Narcissus stood and approached me. “Vervain, are you all right?”
I groaned as I pushed my way through the bed curtains. “Yeah. Thank you. You arrived just in the nick of time.”
“I'm afraid the Mirror has learned viciousness and violence from its victims,” he said softly. “And from me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Please, sit down.” He waved at a chair and waited for me to take it before he resumed his seat.
“Have you seen Kirill or Trevor?” I asked. “I can feel that they're alive but beyond that, I don't know. Normally, my ring would be able to tell me if they were in trouble, but I suppose we're all in trouble.”
“I saw Trevor briefly.” He grimaced. “He tried to kill me.”
“I'm sorry.”
“He was acting upon an illusion.” Narcissus waved it away. “The Mirror, as I mentioned, has learned to be ruthless.”
“What is it that you want to tell me?”
“I knew you were coming,” he admitted. “A few weeks ago, a man summoned me to the portal with a spell. He spoke to me as you spoke to your husbands; through written messages. He told me that you'd be coming and that if I was able to get you to kill yourself, I'd become strong enough to break my curse.”
I went still. “So, why didn't you do that?”
“I don't trust that easily.” Narcissus smirked. “Why would this stranger help me? It seemed just as likely that he simply wanted me to do his dirty work for him. He said that he had a way of enchanting the Mirror so it would pull you in. Normally, the curse prohibits Gods from entering the Mirror, but he swore he had a way around it.”
“Did he say what that way was?” I leaned forward.
“No, but he was adamant,” Narcissus said. “I only nodded to him, and he left. When you showed up with your husbands, I didn't know it was you at first. He said you'd be alone. But then you revealed yourselves to be Gods, and I realized who you must be; the Godhunter.”
“Yes. And now, someone's hunting me.”
“It would appear so,” he agreed. “But it isn't me, Vervain. I don't know what that god was up to, but I know I can't consume your power; that's the Mirror's ability, not mine. Even if I could, I wouldn't do it. You've offered me a way out, and I'm going to take my chances with you.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “And I happen to know—” I stopped and looked around suspiciously. “I'll tell you in a minute. First, there's just one thing I want to talk to you about.”
“What?”
“I saw the collection of hair in your closet.”
Narcissus nodded; completely unsurprised or guilty. “You want to know who they're from.”
“I know who they're from,” I huffed. “At least, I'm fairly certain. They're from the people who died here, aren't they?”
“Yes.”
“What I want to know is why you have them.”
Narcissus blinked in surprise. “To remember them by, of course. Memento Mori.”
“Come again?”
“The Mirror consumes them until there is nothing left,” he explained. “No body to bury and no memorial to their life. After the first few died, I felt as if I should do something for them. I couldn't do much, but I found that if I took a lock of their hair, the Mirror would let me keep it. So, I began to take the hair and label them like graves. I noted their names, the places they were from, and the year they came to me so there would be a record of what happened to them.” He stopped and swallowed visibly. “It seemed to be the least that I could do for them.”
“Oh,” I whispered. Suddenly, he was less psychopath and more romantic.
“I know you must think I'm a monster,” Narcissus whispered. “You must think that I've done horrible things to end up here, and you'd be right. I was so self-absorbed and arrogant that when humans killed themselves for me, I thought it was the proper way of things. The Gods are meant to receive sacrifices, after all. But now, I see that they weren't sacrifices. They were heartbroken people who I hurt. A sacrifice is given with love and respect. But my victims killed themselves out of despair. Nemesis was right to imprison me.”
“If you truly feel that way, then you deserve a second chance,” I said gently. “And I'm glad to be the one to give it to you.” I dropped my voice to a whisper, “I know a way out, Narcissus.”
“You do?” He leaned forward eagerly.
“I'm setting my intentions to find the imperfection in the Mirror,” I declared formally.
The room shook angrily around us, and Narcissus' eyes went wide. We got to our feet as the palace continued to rumble; our arms stretched out to steady ourselves as things fell off shelves and shattered. Then the room disappeared and a vast, mirrored chamber took its place.
“What was that?” Narcissus asked in wonder.
“The Mirror must open the path to its imperfection once we've set our intention to find it,” I said.
