AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I didn't scream. I didn't blink. My gaze was as firm and unwavering as Draven’s hand as he impaled the knife through his own flesh directly over the center of his heart.
“He'll kill himself.” Rychel sounded dazed.
“No,” Odessa's tone was clipped. Short and to the point, just like the warrior herself. It was simple. No, he would not.
But he might come fucking close, I thought silently. That was undeniable.
Around me an eruption was occurring. Apparently even for the Siabra, this was an extreme act.
Draven shifted, turning his back slightly and obscuring our view.
I was humiliated to know I was relieved. Relieved I could not see whatever he was doing.
When he turned back towards us, I could see the sheen of sweat on his brow.
The blade was still gripped in one hand. In his other, he held a severed fragment of pulsating heart. The pale flesh was a mixture of delicate colors, pale pinks, fragile blues, and beneath it all the dark tinge of heart's blood beating through where Draven had severed this piece from the rest of the precious organ.
Flinching in pain, he stooped low one last time, sweeping up his leather jerkin in the hand that gripped the knife, and then stepped forward towards the mirror.
In a flash, Avriel was at his back, gripping his shoulder with one hand, just as Draven stepped into the mirror.
They both vanished.
“Fuck,” Odessa said, very carefully and precisely.
“He cheated.” I couldn’t believe it. “He fucking cheated. How? How could he do that? How is he allowed to do that?”
“He piggy-backed,” Rychel mused. “Very daring.” I glared at her. “Very dangerous, too,” she added hastily. “He may not have made it. It was a calculated risk.”
Around us the crowd had burst into raucous noise. Were they praising Draven’s mind-blowing resolve? Or lauding Avriel’s audacity?
I couldn’t tell and what was more I didn’t care. I hated them all. None of them had a stake in this game. Not really. Not like we had.
In that instant, I pitied Lyrastra. Where were her people? Who stood waiting for her? Who would weep if she did not emerge?
We couldn’t see where Lyrastra, Selwyn, and Draven had ended up. Or if Avriel’s sleazy maneuver had succeeded. He might have been swallowed up by the mirror for all we knew.
Not that anyone would care. Save Sephone, at least.
Erion was all alone now.
He walked up to the mirror. The pristine shimmer of the frame was gone, clouded with a rust-like hue that reminded me of dried blood. The reflective surface was swirling with tendrils of black and red.
The mirror was greedy and whatever it ate was clearly not good for it.
I wondered what would happen if it ate too much. Would it cloud up forever? Or burst and shatter, spilling blood and bones like a grotesque breaking dam?
“What will happen to Draven?” I demanded. “How can he live like that? With a literal hole in his fucking heart?”
There was silence around me.
“He’s stronger than we could possibly know,” a voice said from behind. “I don’t believe in false hope. You know me well enough to know that by now, I think?”
I turned around to face Javer. “Yes.”
Something like relief darted through his eyes. “Well, then. Please believe me, Lady Morgan, when I say he could live. Even like that.”
“But if the next challenge is physically demanding...” I let my voice trail off.
