Eden and Rosalie. Fingering the threadbare blanket, I recalled how it was once a fashionable soft pink, thanks to Eden’s glamour. She always knew what pleased me, but glamour was not my strength, so without Eden’s warmth and magic, the room felt dark and dreary.
Slipping on my robe, I tiptoed barefoot down the steps and to the main room, and I moved to stand in front of the mirror. Imbued with magic from touching many ley lines in different kingdoms, it was a relic that had immeasurable power, and it was Mother Eville’s most prized possession. Magic mirrors were charmed surfaces that with a casted spell, one could speak to someone else that had another mirror. A two-way device. Unless you were a sorceress like my sisters. We didn’t need mirrors, for any reflective surface would suffice.
Except for the mirror in our household. It was finicky, and moody. This one solely served my mother, and would often need to be coaxed. I’d frequently come downstairs to see her speaking to the mirror as if it were an actual person, begging it to cooperate and show her certain royals. We never figured out how to get the mirror to work for us like that, so we stuck to our little compacts or small handheld mirrors.
Tonight, I needed something stronger, and I would seek the help of the dark mirror.
The black framed mirror hung on the wall across from mother’s high-back chair. As I passed the settee, I saw a green knitted scarf Maeve had abandoned and stuffed under the cushion. The closer I drew to the mirror, the more uncomfortable I became. I never liked the mirror or scrying. I would pick up stray feelings, and I never knew where they came from. If it was the person I was scrying, or the mirror itself.
I shuddered. That was impossible. The mirror couldn’t have feelings. Could it?
Most mirror spells required a drop of blood, except for this mirror. Once again, another oddity that made the Eville mirror rare. I brushed my finger across the cold surface and felt the magic stir and wake up.
I smiled when I saw the silver metal antennae Rhea attached to the mirror had become a permanent fixture to the frame.
Unsure of what to do, I cleared my throat, and politely asked, “Mirror, can you show me Rya?”
The mirror flickered and fog filled the glass, obscuring the view, an effect of the curse or magic that was currently affecting the kingdom. Biting my bottom lip, I thought of a different command.
“Mirror, show me Liam.”
The clouds parted, and I saw a little blond-haired boy about eight running around a churchyard. His clothes looked to be hand-me-downs and had been repaired and patched up multiple times. His boots were worn, and one heel had come loose from the sole, but he didn’t seem to care. He found a wooden stick and pretended to slay dragons and monsters. Near to him was a woman of the church who watched over him.
A familiar man with spectacles stepped out of the church, and a towheaded boy leaped off the steps while a somber-eyed girl followed.
The brown-haired youngster immediately picked up a stick and joined the blond-haired boy in his imaginary game.
“What’s your name?” the brown-haired boy asked.
“Liam.”
“I’m Devin,” the boy made a face and pointed to the girl. “That’s Delphine.”
The mirror obeyed, and I then understood just how powerful this mirror was. It not only showed the present, but it could show the past. I was watching the very first meeting of a young Liam and Devin. I never realized that Devin and Delphine were brother and sister.
“Hello, Sister,” Duke Tallywood addressed the woman of the church. “I was told that you have someone you wanted me to meet?”
“I do, Duke Tallywood. He’s been with us for years and desires nothing more than to train to be a knight in service to the kingdom. I was wondering if you could sponsor his training.” She gestured with her hands, and the two adults watched the young Liam and Devin spar.
Liam was quick, his moves elegant and natural, the stick sword an extension of his arm. No matter how Devin swung his own stick, Liam was quick to deflect and charge.
“He is something. I’ve never seen someone move that quickly. He’s a natural swordsman. Who were his parents?”
“We don’t know. An old woman brought him to us about eight summers ago, and he’s been in our care ever since. I thought you would help him,