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Sirus didn’t miss his moment. He lunged forward in that second, knocking Gwen out of the way.
There was a grunt and a sickening wet sound. Panic flooded her, pushing away her own pain, as she caught sight of the two men—blades pointed out of each one. Aldor had both of Sirus’s swords plunged into his chest. Aldor’s wide blade was coated in blood and sticking out of Sirus’s back. Everything fell away as she watched him in horror. The whispers droned into nothing.
The shadows drew closer around the two men, as if Sirus commanded the darkness itself. He removed his hand from one of the swords lodged in Aldor’s chest and yanked the man closer by the scruff of his blood-soaked shirt, causing the sword Aldor held in Sirus’s stomach to sink deeper too. Gwen’s breath hitched. Sirus didn’t even seem to notice.
“Pray,” Sirus growled a mere inch from Aldor’s pain-riddled face. He twisted the sword he still held, then pulled down.
Aldor tried to exhale a gurgled breath of agony, but blood poured from his mouth instead. Sirus pushed him to the ground, pulling his swords from Aldor’s body as it fell. He swung the blades, sending a spray of blood over the floor, then sheathed them. Just like with the dagger, he reached down without hesitation and slowly slid Aldor’s sword out of his middle.
If Gwen had been able to move, she would have been sick. But she was frozen in horror. For a moment, Sirus simply stood, breathing heavily, staring down at her attacker’s crumpled body, which was writhing on the ground in anguish.
“Look away,” he ordered her. The darkness in his voice made her shiver, and a tear ran down her face.
Gwen turned her head. She didn’t want to see what he was about to do. She heard Sirus’s steps. Aldor began to gurgle in protest. With a gasped sob, she clapped her bleeding hands over her ears to block out the sound, ignoring the pulsing pain. Her heart slammed so hard, it drowned out all the other sounds—even the voices.
For a moment, she felt a surreal detachment from it all. Like none of this could be possible. They’d just been at Abigail’s. Strolling through the rose garden. Kissing in the moonlight. But it was the stench of blood and not the sweet smell of roses that was overwhelming her now.
Before she knew what was happening, Sirus had grabbed her by the arm and was dragging her down the darkened hall. He held Aldor’s sword. It was dripping with blood, but she didn’t see any on his face. Gwen couldn’t bring herself to look back.
The hall beyond the dark corridor was long and dimly lit. Mirrors of all kinds hung along the walls. Some shattered, fallen, or missing. A few still hung intact. Gwen recognized them along the edge of the periphery but didn’t fully absorb them. All of her senses seemed to have been numbed as her eyes fell on the dark patch spreading over the back of Sirus’s sweater.
The whispers of magick shifted with curiosity.
He led her around a corner to an empty square room, then across to another darkened hall. It felt like they were running through a labyrinth. At every twist and turn, there was another.
Sirus moved as if he wasn’t in pain, but the dark spot nearly covered his back, and drops of blood were now a stream trailing behind them. Gwen tried to talk to him. To get him to stop. He ignored her and ducked down another hall.
The moment they stepped through the archway, the whispers grew so loud it tore her focus away from him. This room was different from the others. It was long, with wide, ornate pillars, and lined with giant disintegrating tapestries. A nagging unease grew in the pit of her stomach when she saw the mirror that hung on the far end.
It was round, and very large. Its surface wasn’t silvery, like ordinary mirrors, but inky and dark. The symbols embossed over the thick, gilded frame were familiar. She could have sworn she’d seen them before.
The whispers changed as Sirus dragged her closer. They were warning her. An unconscious shiver spread through her, but she couldn’t look away. Sirus didn’t seem to notice the mirror at all. Not even when the black surface shifted. A jolt of nerves shot through Gwen as a pair of silver eyes appeared through the dark abyss within. She almost said something, but Sirus pulled her down another corridor, away from whatever she’d thought she’d seen. Gwen heard a husky laugh amongst the whispers.
As they ran down the long corridor, they were bathed in darkness. When they finally emerged on the other end, they were cast in a soft, golden haze of light. Giant stone pillars held up an arched ceiling so high, all Gwen could see was darkness past a certain point. To the left, it seemed like there was no end; the same when she looked to the right. The light that filled the space came from shards of crystal embedded along the walls.
Sirus took several steps forward, then finally stopped.
“What are you looking for?” Gwen asked through panted breaths.
A rattled echo of a scream came from somewhere far behind them. She gasped, bumping into Sirus.
“He isn’t dead,” he confirmed, slipping further ahead of her.
Terror spread through her as Gwen looked over her shoulder. Aldor was coming.
“Sirus,” Gwen pleaded, running to catch up to him. “Tell me what you’re looking for.”
He didn’t respond. He stalked up to one of the intact mirrors hanging along the wall and pressed his blood-soaked hand against it. Nothing happened.
“Do you know how to t-t-turn them on?” she stammered with a pulse of hope.
Sirus pressed forward without a word. The following three mirrors were all shattered. He tried the fourth. Nothing.
“Tell me what to do!” she begged as he left his bloody handprint behind and moved to the next mirror. Out of everything, it was Sirus’s silence that freaked Gwen out the most.
After the fourth mirror, she recognized the truth. Her hope was dashed, and cold dread took hold once more. He didn’t have a plan. He was just trying because it was all they could do. They were trapped.
Sirus braced his hand against the wall to steady himself. The first display he’d given to being injured. Gwen’s heart lurched into her throat as she ran to him to assess the damage. What she saw made tears well in her eyes.
