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With that, the king and the prince disappeared, leaving us to fend for ourselves.
Eleven
Everything happened in such a blur. I didn’t have time to gather my bearings. My head pounded as I tried to think of a plan, ignoring the fear that stabbed me in the chest.
Aeron and Kelvin took off into the maze of mirrors first. I didn’t see where Calandra went or Lewis or any of the others, and I was the only one remaining. A sitting duck in an inky void surrounded by stars only knew what.
Paralyzed.
Nauseated.
Time wouldn’t wait for anyone, and the longer I stood here, the less of it I had. This wasn’t the time to choke. I couldn’t choke. Not now. Not with so much to lose. I wouldn’t be a coward. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
My mother was counting on me to make it home with the nightingale. I couldn’t fail her again.
Wiping the sweat off my brow, I sucked in a sharp breath.
The mirrors gleamed as they rotated, streams of light trickling out from between them. This was it.
I mustered up the same false bravado that got me across the Dolorem River and forced my tense shoulders to relax. Using the darkness to my advantage, I kept to the shadows, moving along the back wall on high alert, before bolting toward the entrance—sliding into the maze as the mirrors closed behind me.
My reflection stared at me from every angle in an infinite string, mimicking my every movement. The dread on my face was undeniable—my skin sickly pale as I spun around, keeping my hands on the wooden thresholds as I searched for an open passage. My vision crossed from the optical illusion.
How the hell are we supposed to navigate this maze in an hour?
It was impossible.
I crashed face-first into a mirror as I rounded a corner, rubbing the sore spot on my forehead. Frustration itched to the surface, but I pushed forward, slamming into mirrors, time and time again.
A low, frustrated groan escaped me, a clear expression of my dissatisfaction with the lack of headway I’d made. And, on top of that, the fae above were likely cackling at our expense, enjoying our frenzied, pathetic efforts to escape. To them, we were nothing but lousy pests trapped in a death spiral.
A shadow flashed in my peripheral.
I turned, startling myself as I collided with my reflection. My hands fell abruptly to my knees, and my face blanched as adrenaline rocked through me.
Anxiety wrapped around my throat.
“Screw this!” I grumbled, smacking my hand into the glass. Every muscle in my body constricted—panic brewing beneath the surface as it disappeared between the panes.
I ripped it back and flipped it over, searching for any signs of injury, but found it unscathed. Relief mixed with uncertainty as I tried to make sense of how that was possible. If it was the mirage of mirrors playing with my mind or if I’d discovered some type of portal.
My head weighed heavily on my shoulders. Still, I extended a finger toward the glass, swallowing hard when it vanished once again.
Stumbling back, my back clashed with a wooden threshold, and I fell to the ground, scrambling to my feet.
No, that couldn’t be right.
How could that be possible?
My pulse raced. I kept moving, glancing over my shoulder as the shadow crept out into view, following me. Hunting me. I veered left, right, making a mental note of each turn I made when the ground vibrated, knocking me off balance.
Trying to maintain my balance, I grabbed onto a wooden post while the mirrors moved and jumped into a clearing, but my bootlaces got tangled under the mirrors, causing me to trip and fall. Fear prickled my skin as the silhouette appeared to my right, approaching with animalistic prowess.
I yanked and pulled and cursed under my breath, but it wouldn’t budge. My fingers trembled as it flanked me, surrounding me from every angle.
It was faceless. A murky silhouette that oozed malignant rage, watching me.
I tugged my foot once more, praying to make it out, when it dislodged, flinging me backward. A wave of relief flooded me as I made a run for it, not bothering to lace my boot.
