“All the Ithranor want is to go home, Princess. To leave this suffering behind.” His voice drips with sincerity, but it’s his next words that truly sink their claws into me. “You offer us that opportunity. We can both get what we want. It’s no different from the collar.Stop fighting, and this could be so easy for you.” His gaze dips to my belly, his lip curling slightly. “For you and your little one.”
My thoughts race, a torrent of fears and desires crashing into one another faster than I can catch them. Ashen, confined in his cage, his brilliant presence dimming with every passing moment until I can almost see through him. My child growing inside me, larger and stronger than it should be. The Grove, left defenseless without me. And then there’s him. My husband. The man I have no right to love, yet whose absence gnaws at my soul every waking moment.
This could be my way out. My chance to protect them all without risking everything I hold dear.
My eyes flick to Anethesis. His gaze hasn’t wavered, and I swear I see the faintest trace of satisfaction in his expression.
“What is the first test?” I ask, my voice steady despite the desperation raging inside me.
He exhales, long and measured, as if savoring my surrender. “Thank you for seeing reason, Princess.”
The cavern fills with sound as the lake churns below, the water twisting and frothing violently, the purple glow pulsing like a heartbeat. I glance down, the flickering light slicing through the darkness. Ashen rises shakily to his feet, his white eyes locking onto mine, reflecting the same mix of worry and confusion I feel.
“The Test of Veils,” Anethesis intones, his voice reverberating with unnatural power. The purple light flashes across his face, casting shifting shadows that make him look even more sinister. “Here, you must discern what is real and what is illusion. If you succeed, your ability to see through the false will grow stronger.”
“Wait,” I say, my voice cracking as the light grows brighter, stinging my eyes. “What do I do?”
“You are Awakened.” His gaze pierces through me. “You will know.”
I open my mouth to protest, but before I can utter another word, Anethesis raises two fingers and taps my forehead. It’s a gentle touch, but it feels like the weight of a mountain crashing into me.
My vision explodes into darkness, and I feel myself falling backward, weightless and untethered, plummeting into nothingness. Forever.
The air shifts and my eyes flash open, and suddenly I’m no longer in the dark cavern with Anethesis. My breath fogs as I stand in an open courtyard bathed in pale moonlight.Surrounding me are towering walls of glass, each panel polished to a gleaming perfection that reflects my image back at me, dozens of me, each one distorted, stretched, or twisted in ways that make my stomach lurch. The maze stretches endlessly in every direction, the mirrored walls shimmering like liquid silver.
Anethesis’ voice echoes in my mind, cold and distant. “Find the truth, Amara. Or let the maze claim you.”
I step forward, and the glass seems to ripple under my gaze. I reach out a hand, my fingertips brushing a surface colder than ice. The moment I touch it, the world around me shifts. The moonlight dims, the mirrors flicker, and suddenly I’m not alone.
“Amara?”
I whip around. The voice is achingly familiar, a sound I thought I had forgotten. My mother stands a few feet away, her gentle smile tugging at my heart. She looks like the phantom of someone I once knew, her memory so lost and clouded in the forgotten edges of my mind. Still, some things I can never forget. Soft brown waves of hair framing her face, the warmth in her eyes, the same rich brown as mine, a balm I didn’t know I still craved.
“Mother?” My voice cracks, and I take a step toward her.
She opens her arms. “Daughter. You’ve been so strong, but you don’t have to fight anymore. Just come home.”
I falter, something twisting in my chest. It’s her voice, her face, everything about her flawless, but it’s too perfect. Too clean, too untouched by the years that should have changed her. My gut twists.
“You’re not real.”
Her smile withers, and her eyes glisten with tears. “Amara, it’s me. Don’t you recognize your own mother?”
I step toward the mirror, my hand reaching out instinctively, even as a voice deep inside me screams that this isn’t real. But I want to believe it is her. Desperately. Every part of me aches for the chance that this could be true. To feel her warmth again, to be with her under the dappled sunlight, her fingers brushing gently through my hair as birdsong fills the air. The longing is so strong it burns through me, a cruel, aching need. I would give up everything for it.
But it’s not real. It’s a glamor.
A sudden flash of bright orange light sears my vision, and I stagger back, wincing. When I look again, the mirror is engulfed in flames. Blistering, suffocating, all-consuming. The heat presses against my skin, and my mother’s form flickers within the inferno. She shifts, flashing between the woman I remember and the unrecognizable, charred figure left after the fire stole her from me.
Tears sting my eyes, but I clench my jaw against the tremor threatening to break my voice. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my words trembling despite my resolve. “But you are not real.” My voice hardens, cutting through the illusion like a blade. “You died, and you’re not coming back.”
The flames flicker and die, vanishing as if extinguished by my words. She stands before me again, whole and untouched, her smile soft and bittersweet. For a moment, I think she’ll speak. But she doesn’t.
The mirror shatters, splintering into a thousand glittering shards, and with it, she disappears.
I barely have time to draw a breath through my grief before the maze shifts again. The mirrors ripple and twist, reforming into new, cruel visions.
Ashen dissolves into tendrils of smoke, fading until there’s nothing left. Keeper Erania appears next, her screams piercing the air, her face obscured by streaks of blood. A cradle rocks in eerie silence, its emptiness louder than any cry.
