“Stubborn man,” she scoffed.
“Yes, until I take my last breath.”
Something about the way he said i made her chuckle long enough for him to pause and peer at her. “What’s so funny?”
“That you freely admit you’re stubborn. Have you been your entire life?”
“Just so.” He gave a nod, a grin, and then went back to trying to free his wrists from the bonds. “I…almost have it.”
He grunted, winced, and then he was free. He dropped the rope at his feet, but the damage was done. His wrists were red and raw and bleeding. He was out the chair and doing his best to untie her.
“Your wrists need a healer,” she said.
“That’s the least of our worries at the moment,” he said. “We need to get out of here.”
She felt the knot loosen and then she was free. “Not yet. Not until I destroy the Magic Mirror.”
He walked around the chair and paused, peering at the door with the iron hinges. He walked to the door and gave it a tug, but it remained in place.
“It would stand to reason she wouldn’t want us out of this room,” Snow said.
She saw the contemplative look on his face and knew he was trying to figure a way out of the room.
“If you destroy the mirror,” he said, slowly, “then she loses her power?”
“That’s what the dark wizard told me,” Snow said.
He took a deep breath, nodded. “Then let’s find a way out of here.”
But it was no use. The door was too strong to break through. Snow dropped to her knees and placed her hands on the stone flooring, reaching out with her senses. But there was nothing under the stone to help her. No bits of dirt or anything.
“There’s nothing in here that can help,” she said.
“Maybe not for your magic.”
The way he said it made her pause and watch as he stood in front of the door. He placed his hand on circular door pull which she suspected was iron. He closed his eyes, no doubt tapping into his own elemental magic. Recalling that he was an Artificer, he had the power to harness more than just nature. She watched in rapt fascination.
The door pull began to glow. A pale yellow at first and then brighter and brighter until it was a molten red orange. She gasped as he tugged. The door clicked open with ease. He flashed her a triumphant grin.
“Is your hand not burned?” she asked.
He looked down at his hand, his fingers were slick with sweat and blood but appeared to be otherwise unscathed. “No.”
She moved to stand beside him, taking his hand in hers and turning it over, running her fingers over his skin and marveling at how smooth and unburned it was.
“Incredible,” she breathed.
“Now, let’s find that mirror.”
He stepped into the corridor and paused, looking left and right. He signaled all clear and then waved her to follow him. They paused outside the door, her heart ramming hard in her chest.
“Which way?” Roderick asked.
“I’m not sure where we are,” she admitted. “The last time I was here, I was a child. My memories are not as clear of the castle as they once were.”
Indeed, they had faded over time when she gave up hope of ever returning. Now, she stood in the very castle she was born in looking for a mirror with the ability to wield dark magic. Where would Seraphina keep that? No doubt someplace hidden and safe. Her bedchamber?
Yes, of course, that made sense. Her bedchamber, which used to be shared with her father. The residence bedchambers were in the north tower overlooking the lawn. Hers was down the hall from her parent’s. She remembered that clearly, but how to get there?
