She makes a disapproving clicking noise with her tongue. “Your lack of respect is appalling. I knew Isadora was slacking in your education.”
I swallow the angry retort, not wanting to waste time discussing my mother.
“How old is this?” I ask instead.
“Very old. This is a relic from the golden era when the Nightingales walked among us.”
My eyes become rounder. “Wait. Are you telling me this mirror is a Nightingale design?”
She smiles smugly. “Yes, my dear. It has been in my family for generations. But I didn’t bring you here to boast about my priceless possession. I want you to look into the mirror and tell me what you see.”
She steps away, allowing me to take her spot. I’m leery. If this object belonged to the Nightingales, who knows what it will do to me? But like a cat that can’t resist a laser pen, I move closer. At first, all I see is my reflection. I don’t sense any glimmer of magic coming from the mirror. My head begins to feel like cotton candy as my image dissolves in wisps of translucent fog. A vertiginous sensation takes a hold of me and then I’m falling forward into the mirror. I can’t feel my body anymore, only my mind is sharp. A reel of images begins to flash in front of me, like a movie. I can’t make sense of them until a familiar face appears. It’s Saxon, kneeling in front of a burned-down building, crying desperately as he clutches a broken sword in his hand. I can’t tell if that’s something that took place in the past or if it’s a glimpse of the future until King Raphael appears in the picture, covered in soot and blood, and holding in his hand the severed head of Manu, his own niece. His clothes look modern. So this is the future then.
Saxon turns to him and asks why but there’s no sign of recognition in the king’s crimson eyes. He looks demented, terrifying. He tosses Manu’s head to the side, then raises his broadsword, ready to swing at Saxon. When the blade descends, cutting an arch in the air, I cry out and the gruesome vision fades to black.
I’m freefalling, and then, I’m back in my body. I stagger back, still reeling from the vision I saw.
“So, what did you see?” Elena asks too eagerly.
“What the fuck is this mirror?”
“It shows what was and what can be.”
I’m shaking, and my heart is thrumming like a moth trapped inside a mason jar. “What can be? Like a possible future?”
“Yes.”
“So that means what I saw might not come to pass?”
She narrows her shrewd eyes. “You saw your vampire lover’s demise, didn’t you?”
My eyes burn and my throat tightens to the point I almost can’t breathe. “Yes.” I force the word out.
“Was it the king who dealt the killing blow?”
I nod, unable to form words.
“I also saw the king’s downfall.”
“How? He looked changed, almost possessed.”
“I don’t know, child. The only thing I know with certainty is that if his nephew doesn’t return to the world of the living, that will be the future.”
“How can you be so sure that if Lucca returns, the king won’t turn into a monster?”
“I didn’t say he won’t turn into a monster. I’ve looked into the mirror countless times, and the outcome is always the same. The king goes mad. But if Lucca is back, there won’t be so much bloodshed.”
“Are you certain what this mirror shows is true?”
She shrugs. “All the visions it showed me throughout the years have come to pass. I have no reason to believe it isn’t the case this time. But you can stop it.”
“Me? How?”
“I have the spell that will bring Lucca back from hibernation.”
“If you’re in possession of the spell, and you know the awful reality that awaits if he doesn’t return, why haven’t you given it to my mother yet?”
She laughs, shaking her white head. “Oh, child. Why would I give away such a great bargaining chip like that? I couldn’t care less if King Raphael killed his entire family and all his friends.”
“You’re awful.”
“No. I’m practical. There’s no good reason why we witches should bend over backwards to please the bloodsuckers. Don’t stand there and tell me that you didn’t think the same before you fell in love with a vampire.”
I press my lips together, knowing that I can’t refute her assessment. Similar thoughts have crossed my mind many times.
“I have a proposal,” she continues. “I’ll give you the spell