running past her boss to join her friends.
When she reached Sara, Miranda held out the mirror shard where the friends could see it, but Cullen Ward could not.
“Oh my God,” Sara whispered. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“It’s him,” Miranda confirmed. “Sing to him. Let’s put him back where he belongs.”
Dorian groaned and pulled a cloak of midnight tightly around Mr. Ward.
“Saint’s plaything, Dorian,” Ward laughed. “You think I’m afraid of the dark?”
Sara’s voice rang out in answer, tired, but clear.
“Sneaking out of mirror’s hold
You were cruel and you were bold
Stripping Earth of mortal wealth
Without a thought for mortal health
No care for any human kind
Out of fae, out of your mind”
“No,” Ward moaned, as soon as he realized what was happening to him. His clothing was whipping in an invisible wind that seemed to draw him toward the mirror fragment.
“In the business world you could be tough
But soon money was not enough
You found you had a taste for pain
Not just for economic gain”
Cullen Ward slid toward them, his fancy leather shoes carrying him across the wet grass like ice-skates. But he clenched his fists and jaw at the last second and managed to summon enough power to halt himself.
The light in Tristan’s hands was almost gone.
Sara’s voice grew faint, barely a whisper.
“Surrender,” Miranda cried. But it came out sounding more like a plea than a command.
Bron met her eyes and the look of sadness in them nearly broke her heart. His lips mouthed the words, I love you, before he closed his eyes and placed his palms on the ground.
Miranda watching in horror as the forest all around them drained of color. Trees went gray and then black before collapsing into cold ash, the grass curled up as if burning from invisible flames, birds dropped from the sky as black smoke billowed overhead.
Bron’s muscles rippled and strained, like he was attempting to lift the Earth itself. A groan of pain escaped him, the sheer anguish of it chilling Miranda to her core.
“What’s happening to him?” Miranda asked, knowing that she didn’t really want an answer.
“Bron gets his power from the living world,” Tristan explained, the light in his hands growing brighter by the second. “And right now, he is calling on all of it to bolster us.”
Bron was consuming the very life of the forest to summon the strength to defeat his brother.
And it was working.
Cullen Ward shuddered but could not move.
Dorian drew a fresh cloak of inky midnight closely around him.
Sara ran forward, mirror outstretched, her voice strong and true.
“Go back into the mirror’s hold
Back into the faerie fold
Where your cruel ways are understood,
And leave this mortal world to Good.”
Bron collapsed like a ragdoll from the effort of burning up the life force of the forest to harness its energy.
Miranda felt the last surge of his power flow through her.
“Surrender,” she shouted, and Cullen could not help but obey.
He floated toward Sara. Just before he reached her, he looked into the mirror and his features shifted from anger to what Miranda swore was happiness. He let go completely and shrank into a living shadow that was sucked into the mirror shard with an audible pop.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then the friends began to cheer. Tristan lifted Tabitha and spun her around in his arms.
Only Miranda seemed to notice that one voice was missing from the chorus.
She ventured to where Bron had knelt a moment ago, but there was no sign he had ever been there.
“Bron,” she screamed into the ashen remains of the forest.
But without living trees, she could see a hundred yards in every direction.
And Bron was nowhere to be found.
“Oh, gods,” she heard Dorian murmur.
“Miranda,” Sara said softly, placing her hands on her shoulders.
“Bron,” Miranda screamed again, unable to help herself.
But there was only silence. Not even the birds cried back to her.
They searched the scarred trees, but Miranda’s wild king seemed to have disappeared as if he had never existed at all.
It’s my fault. If my power to compel were greater, he wouldn’t have had to sacrifice himself…
Sirens in the distance roused her from the wreckage of her mind.
“They’re coming because of the smoke,” Tabitha cried. “We have to put the mirror back together before they get here.”
Miranda stood, frozen in place, unwilling to stop the search.
“We’ll find him soon,” Sara said comfortingly. “But we can’t have let all this happen in vain.”
Miranda allowed herself to be led into the mansion.
She watched as her friends placed the last shard.
Tabitha approached the glass, pressed both palms to