CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The chamber beyond was both vast and claustrophobic at once. Every surface—walls, floor, ceiling—was made of mirrors. Not neat, polished mirrors like in a department store, but jagged, cracked ones, overlapping and intersecting at impossible angles. The reflections bounced off each other, creating an infinite panoply of images that made Ava’s eyes hurt if she looked too long.
“Stay close,” Nos murmured. His voice bounced back at them a thousand times, echoing in the strangest way. It sounded like he was coming from all angles. “It’s easy to become separated.”
That was when Ava noticed the mirrors weren’t reflecting them accurately. In one, she saw herself as a child. In another, as an old woman. In yet another, her face was scarred, her eyes hollow with grief.
“What thehell?” she whispered.
“Don’t look directly at them,” Ibin advised, though Ava noticed she was having trouble following her own advice. In one mirror, Ibin appeared as she once was, during World War I—a handsome man in a British pilot’s uniform. In another, she was a bird’s skeleton, dead on the ground, being picked apart by ants and maggots.
As they moved deeper into the chamber, the reflections became more insistent. More disturbing.
Ava saw herself with Serrik’s glowing, golden eyes. Saw herself with spiderweb tattoos crawling up her neck. Saw herself wielding a blade made of light, cutting down figures that looked disturbingly like Ibin and Nos. Her expression was empty. Cold, like stone—likehis.
“I don’t like this place.” A crawling fear began to creep up her spine.
That’s when the reflections began to speak.
“Run,”whispered a version of herself with bloody hands.“Before it’s too late.”
“He’s using you,”said another, this one with hollow cheeks and desperate eyes.“They all are. They aren’t your friends. You have no friends. They’re all lies. All of them. They aren’t real.”
“You’ll become just like him,”warned a third, whose skin seemed to be slowly transforming into something chitinous and inhuman.“Is that what you want?”
Ava nearly stumbled backwards, startled by the voices. “Stop talking!”
“Don’t listen.” Ibin grabbed her elbow to steady her. “They’re lying.”
“Are we?”asked a version of Ava dressed in elegant black lace, golden jewelry dripping from her neck and wrists. She looked regal, like a queen—or a princess.“Or are we simply showing the truths you’d rather not face? They’re dreams, nothing more. This place is a lie!”
The path ahead seemed to stretch and contract, making it impossible to judge distance. Mirrors shifted positions when Ava wasn’t looking directly at them, creating new corridors, new dead ends.
“Turn back,”pleaded a reflection of Ava whose eyes were completely black.“While you still have a soul. Before he takes what’s left of you and makes it his own.”
“What you know of your life is over if you continue forward. You will live but as a perversion of yourself,”hissed another, this one missing an arm.“Die with honor—die only as yourself.”
“They’re trying to confuse you.” Ibin’s voice was tight, and stilted. As if she was trying to talk over her own voices. “The mirror is straight ahead. Stay focused, Ava.”
But “ahead” was becoming a meaningless concept in this kaleidoscope of reflections. Every step seemed to lead them in circles.
“He’s lying to you. He doesn’t care about you,”a particularly vicious reflection spat. This Ava had venom dripping from her lips, staining her chin black.“You’re just a tool. A key. Nothing more. He will discard you the moment he has no need of you. You are less than even a pet to him.”
“Fuck you, future self.” Man, she never thought she’d need to use that phrase literally. “Shut up.”
“He’s a monster. And you’re becoming one too. Your mother would be so ashamed of you.”
“I saidshut up!” Ava snapped. With her sudden anger, Book responded. It twitched at her side. Holding it out in front of her, it flew open. The images in the mirrors recoiled, as if afraid of it.
Good. The mirrors could shut the hell up.
On the blank page, as if drawn by an unseen hand, an elegant and overly elaborate arrow pointed the way. “This way,” she said with more confidence than she felt. As she walked, the arrow rotated like a compass, showing her which way to go. Yeah, okay. The book’s clinginess was a little annoying, but it really,reallycame in handy.
The reflections grew more desperate as they neared their destination.
“You’re going to die!”screamed a blood-soaked Ava.“They will all betray you!”
“Worse than die,”moaned another, whose skin seemed to be slowly dissolving.“You’ll wish for death.”
