Only days ago, there’d been mirrors on every west-facing surface in the city, catching sunsets and moonlight. All seven districts of Skyvale had been lit with faint reflected light.
But when the wraith came, every mirror in the city was destroyed. Glass windows, glass shields over lamps: those were shattered, too.
Legend had it that King Terrell the Second, Tobiah’s great-grandfather, had been called the Mirror King when he’d had mirrors hung all over the city. While it ultimately became just another way for people to display their wealth, it had been intended to frighten the wraith from ever invading Skyvale.
The truth ended up being a lot more complicated.
My wraith, what was now the boy, certainly didn’t like mirrors; it had stopped chasing me at West Pass Watch because of them. But in Skyvale, it had shattered the mirrors rather than retreat. How? Because I’d brought it to life?
I gave the dark, unfamiliar city one more look before I threw myself into it.
For hours, I moved from Osprey hideout to Osprey hideout, searching for signs of my friends. I kept an eye out for Patrick as well, but what would I do if I found him? I was unarmed, and as much as I wanted to catch Patrick and punish him for what he’d done, that wouldn’t help the prince.
It was almost midnight when I approached the Peacock Inn in White Flag—or what was left of the inn. It hadn’t been much to look at before the Inundation, but now boards had warped and bricks over the front of the building had melted over windows.
I stood at the corner of a nearby building, watching the inn for signs of the patrols James had sent after me. Three of my last stops had had a police officer lurking about, which meant James knew where I’d gone—and why.
Usually, the inn was loud with drunks and thugs, but the whole city was quiet. The few people who braved the debris-filled streets skittered from place to place, keeping their heads low. Prey, waiting for a predator to strike.
Sounds from the taproom were muted. No one felt festive tonight.
If there were any officers here, they weren’t showing themselves. I dropped to the street and moved for the front door; the window I usually entered by wasn’t there anymore.
The front door opened and Melanie strode out.
We stopped and stared at each other for a heartbeat, and then her arms were around my shoulders and she gave a faint, relieved cry. “Saints, Wil!”
“Mel!” I hugged her back, then ushered her into a narrow alley. A dull crack sounded under her boot; we both froze, but the dirt and old papers that concealed the glass also muffled the noise.
We both exhaled.
“What are you doing?” she whispered. “Why are you here?”
“What are you doing here?” I glanced toward the top floor, dark and eerie without the mirrors. “Are they here? Connor and the others?”
“They’re sleeping.” She leaned closer, smelling faintly of fire and something warm and damp. “There are people looking for you. Soldiers. The police. Looking for Princess Wilhelmina. Everywhere I go, I hear your name. Someone said you’re a flasher. What did you do?”
“Nothing. I broke out of the palace. I have to get Connor.”
“Are you a prisoner there?”
There wasn’t really a good answer to that question.
“Why Connor?” she pressed.
“I need to take him back to the palace.” Melanie didn’t know that Connor was like me. No one did.
“Are you afraid that I’m going to tell Patrick?”
My heart gave a painful lurch. “Are you?”
“No,” she breathed, looking hurt. “Saints, no, Wil. I only went with him because you need someone to keep you informed. You know that, right?”
“You couldn’t inform me that he planned on assassinating Crown Prince Tobiah?” Stupid Tobiah, standing out there on the balcony only days after the first assassination attempt. Less than a week after his own father had been killed. Stupid, stupid boy.
At least, if he’d been just Prince Tobiah, I could have blamed ignorance or arrogance, but he was also Black Knife, and for that I could only assign reckless need to do what he viewed as right.
“This is the first time I’ve been able to get away.” Her shoulders slumped. “He suspects why I went with him. There’s no proof, of course, and as far as he knows, we’re still”—she swallowed hard—“together. But he’s kept a close eye on me. The only reason I was able to get out tonight was because we need supplies. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“To go where?”
“Aecor. Where else?”
Where else indeed? “Why tomorrow?”
“He’s certain the wound Tobiah took will be fatal.”
“It is a mortal wound.” The words scraped my throat. “He won’t survive it.” Not without Connor.
“We’ll be out of the city by dawn. He aims to reach Aecor before the week is up.”
“Where have you been? Where is he hiding out?”
She sighed and glanced toward Greenstone. “Everywhere. The warehouse district, the riverside, neighborhoods you and I would hesitate to venture into. He’s got us moving every hour, and he doesn’t tell us where the next place will be.”