Page 29 of Lucifer's Mirror
“Thanks, Brown.”
What the fuck? Maybe they’re brothers?
“Come in,” Brown says, widening the doors. “The night is almost upon us.” At his words, I peer back into the forest. Those things are gone. There are just trees. All the same, a tremor runs through me, and I hurry through the front door.
Warmth embraces me. This place feels… welcoming. Brown leads us into a large room—the cottage seems bigger inside than out—with a table laid out for three, almost as though he expected us.
Khaosti carries Zayne through a doorway at the opposite side of the room, the door slamming behind them. I think about following, but Brown appears in front of me. He waves to a hallway. “The bathroom is through there.”
And I suddenly realize I desperately need to pee. I use the bathroom, then splash water over my face and gulp down mouthfuls. When I peer into the mirror, I almost expect to see something different, but I’m just the same. It seems unbelievable. I give the glass a prod, but it’s just a mirror, and I head back to the main room. Khaosti is seated, but Zayne is nowhere in sight.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
“It depends on your definition of okay. But he’ll live. He’s sleeping now.”
“What’s happening to him?”
“I’ve spoken to him. It’s up to him to tell you if he wants you to know.”
I bite back my frustration as exhaustion rolls over me. I don’t have the energy to argue right now. I don’t even have the energy to worry. Instead, I collapse into a chair opposite him. Brown pours golden liquid into crystal goblets. He hands the first to Khaosti with another small bow.
“What is it with the bowing and scraping? Are you some kind of royalty?”
Khaosti just drinks his wine.
I pick up my own and take a sip. Wine is not something I’ve drunk a lot of in my life. Zayne gave me a bottle—probably pinched—for my eighteenth birthday. It tasted nothing like this. This stuff is cold and tart and sweet at the same time. I empty my glass, and Brown immediately fills it, which earns a raised brow from Khaosti.
“Don’t get drunk. We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.”
At his words, I drain my glass and smirk.
“Very mature,” he murmurs.
“I’m nineteen. I’m not supposed to be mature.”
He shakes his head. “So young,” he says. “Too young.”
For what? Maybe that’s something else I’m better off not knowing. I’m distracted at that moment by Brown setting a steaming tray of food on the table. I breathe in and almost swoon.
I’m not sure what I’m eating: some version of vegetable stew topped with light, fluffy dumplings, and crusty bread still warm from the oven. It’s delicious, and I wash it down with more wine. Before long, my stomach is full, and my head is swimming.
Khaosti has finished and is leaning back in his chair, sipping wine and watching me out of half-closed eyes. I wish he wouldn’t do that. It makes me twitchy, and suddenly, I have an overwhelming urge to be alone. I give an exaggerated yawn. Questions will have to wait until morning. “I don’t suppose there’s a bed with my name on it around here somewhere?”
Brown appears from out of nowhere. “Follow me, my lady.” He’s definitely related to the original Brown.
I push myself up, then waggle my fingers at Khaosti. As I pass the window, I peer outside. It’s seriously dark. No moon. Maybe there isn’t one in this world. A prickle runs down my spine, and I hurry after Brown. He pushes open a door and waves me in. “Take no notice of things you may hear in the night,” he says. “You’re safe inside the wards.”
And then he’s gone.
I wake to darkness, thick and oppressive. It’s clearly the middle of the night. I close my eyes. I want to go back to sleep so badly, to just forget everything for a while.
But it’s not happening, and I lie on my back in the blackness.
Why couldn’t I have been a princess? I suppose I still could be, but I doubt it. And if so, why couldn’t the king just show up on Lissa’s doorstep and tell me I’m his long-lost daughter and…
I try to lose myself in the old fairy tale, but that’s not happening either. I’m filled with a sense of restlessness, like I should be up and doing something. I just have no clue what.
Somewhere outside, a mournful howl cuts through the silence of the night. It’s answered by another. I remember Brown’s words:Take no notice of things you may hear in the night.
