been speaking the truth to Angelique. All of Snow White’s careful instruction meant the soldiers stood in a semi-circle around the construct, distracting it so their bowman could get a good shot.
Constructs pressed around them. The mirror had to be replicating them given that the chamber wasn’t emptying at all, even though the warriors had cleared out at least a hundred of the creatures.
We need to finish this, or we’re going to be overrun.
Three sets of hall doors were slammed open, and armed men rushed in.
“Clear the way! Clear the way! Clear the way!” the newly arrived warriors shouted as they cut through the constructs, linking up with the men trying to take down the troll-like construct.
Angelique laughed when she saw the Mullberg symbol—a charging ram—on their uniforms.
Snow White surely never knew how popular she was. These are royal soldiers!
The soldiers flooded the room, fortifying the other warriors and cutting through the constructs faster than the mirror could replace them.
Within seconds, the big construct was downed, and though the constructs continued to swarm, the fresh soldiers weren’t phased and fought on.
A Mullberg lieutenant paused in the fight just long enough to point at the stairs that led to the throne room, then to salute Snow White.
Angelique lobbed the handful of starfires she was holding. “I’d say that’s our cue to keep going.”
“Your orders, Snow White?” Gregori asked.
“We continue,” Snow White said. “We have to find Faina, or there will be no end to this.”
Fritz was first to move. He started up the stairs, taking two at a time. Snow White and Angelique were right behind him.
Fritz leaned against the wooden door, pressing his ear to its surface. “Nothing.”
“It must be hoped, then, that she is alone.” Snow White said.
Angelique shook her head as a shadowy, dark sort of sensation oozed under the door crack. There might not be any servants or guards in there with her, but she’s not alone.
But if the mirror was there…Evariste would be as well.
The thought made Angelique’s heart rattle in her chest. Soon!
“Fritz.” Snow White set her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Open the doors.”
Fritz leaned into the doors, pushing them open as Angelique prayed with all of her being.
Please, please, be here!
Fritz and Marzell were first into the room—though Snow White was so close behind them, she almost trod on their heels.
Angelique hung back, letting the other warriors in—though it was difficult to say if she stayed back in hopes of catching the mirror off guard, or if it was because now, when she was about to face the truth of the matter, she almost couldn’t bear to find out if Evariste was really here or not.
The room was shrouded in shadow. Although the far end of the throne room was filled with floor-to-ceiling windows, and there were a great many skylights, clouds filled the sky, and the scant braziers that were lit cast eerie shadows in the room.
The air smelled stale and rotten—like death and decay left to fester. The scent was powerful enough, Angelique nearly choked on it, though it didn’t seem to bother the warriors or Snow White.
The flooring was smoothed obsidian rock that seemed to gape like a hungry maw, waiting to devour Angelique, Snow White, and the warriors.
But it was the twelve suits of black armor that made the back of Angelique’s neck prickle. She could feel the dark magic radiating off them.
Silently, the knights turned in an unnatural unison to face them, their obsidian-rock armor shining and their blood-covered swords gleaming wet. They were constructs—but they were forged with a terrifying amount of power and were larger than even Gregori.
Faina was there, impossible to miss in a giant crown that looked like the points had been sharpened with a file. She sat on the throne with a cruel smile.
But Angelique’s gaze sped past all that to focus solely on the mirror.
It was larger than she imagined and horribly beautiful, with a gold frame that curved with ornately embossed flowers. The colossal, blood-red ruby that glittered at the top of the frame—the focal point—seemed to glow with magic.
It’s the Snow Queen’s mirror. Its most remarkable feature was the bloated red rock.
When Angelique finally stepped into the room, she was almost forced to her knees by its sheer power. She felt its magic—numbing and unforgiving—surge around her with an iciness that promised to enfold her, slowly freezing her bit by bit as it consumed her power.
A string of curses escaped Angelique as she endured the magic—resisting the urge to release