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“If we leave now, we could follow the wagons,” I suggested. “We’ll get our answers by seeing who exactly left here.”

Erix studied the dark fortress, winds caressing the short brown curls he’d grown in the past weeks. For a moment, I caught the glint of someone else. Tarron Oakstorm – his half-brother. It was in rare moments that I got the reminder as to his heritage.

“There’re a few more corners of this place I would like to check before we leave.” His hand slipped into mine and he was guiding me toward the darkened archway leading into the fortress. “If we follow the wagons, we waste more time. Let’s check inside, and if we are confident those were not Hunters we saw, then we leave and head for Lockinge. We can still make it… perhaps a little later than planned but still with enough time to sleep before tomorrow.”

Erix was right. This was his way of reminding me that we didn’t have time to waste chasing after ‘what ifs’.

As predicted, Finstock was empty. It was like the people who’d been here knew we were coming. I knew that was my paranoia, but I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling inside these walls.

Without firelight, it was hard to see inside the many dark rooms. Erix went first, his gryvern eyes more used to seeing in the shadows. Once he was content that the rooms were empty, we moved swiftly on.

We came to a stop in a chamber I’d never forget. It was the fortress’s old chapel, the place Duncan had taken me to so I could watch the followers of Duwar sacrifice themselves in front of a crowd. Except, the room seemed different than before.

“What are those?” I asked, following Erix as he inspected piles upon piles of wooden crates. They didn’t have a symbol on them to suggest what they held. But there were so many of them, proving that whatever was kept in the room had been there in abundance.

“Looks like whoever was here had been using Finstock as storage of some kind.”

“Maybe innocent humans, reclaiming the place after the Hunters were evicted. It’s possible. It isn’t exactly like land is something to be spared in Durmain.”

“Maybe,” Erix echoed, although he didn’t seem to believe me, or himself. We checked almost every box, but we came up empty and without answers as to what had been here.

I kept looking toward the raised dais, noticing the old stain of blood worn into the steps like rust. If I closed my eyes, I could hear the daggers split necks and the bodies of fresh dead thump to the ground.

A terrifying thought speared into my mind. Duncan and the shard of glass beneath his pillow. What if Duwar was using him to converse with the Hunters – something Aldrick would’ve done.

I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted blood, trying to stifle the thought. What was better? Duncan wanting to use the glass to kill himself, or Duncan conspiring with Hunters to further Aldrick’s plans?

Plans Duwar clearly shared.

I walked to the edge of the room, aware of every noise the stone walls echoed back to me. I was so focused on the dais that I didn’t see the glass until I stepped onto it. Erix snapped around, sword unsheathed in a blink.

I raised my hands in surrender. “It’s just me, Erix. Stand down.”

He sagged in relief, although he kept his sword out.

Lifting my foot, I looked down at the shards of glass beneath my boot. Not glass from a window, but reflective like that of a mirror. In fact, swept into the corner and covered in dust, was a scattering of more broken shards.

Dread sank in my stomach like a stone. I knelt down, just like I had in Duncan’s room in Imeria, and picked up a shard of mirror. I held it up for Erix to see. He stepped in close, so much so that I felt his breath on my face. Then he took the shard from my hands, his fingers brushing mine for a moment.

“Tell me this is a coincidence,” I begged. “Finding a mirror in a place where Duwar was once worshiped. That is all…”

He turned the shard over, his reflection caught the worry across his brow. “I am not sure.”

I swept my gaze over the room of empty crates. Had they all contained mirrors? Or was that just my paranoia talking again. We’d not know without solid proof, and in reality, those crates could’ve held anything. Perhaps Cassial had used Finstock as storage for the supplies for Althea and Gyah’s wedding. Anything was possible.

And yet that stone of dread sank deeper and deeper until it was rooted into my gut like a seed with iron-clad roots.

“We should leave for Lockinge now,” Erix said, without taking his attention off the shard of mirror. “Cassial and his Nephilim have been keeping an eye on old Hunter settlements. If anything, they may know what was happening here.”

“I’d prefer to look into this ourselves,” I said.

“It is not our issue to resolve, not anymore.” Erix drank me in from across the room, silver eyes glittering with worry. “Durmain is under the protection, and guidance, of the Nephilim. This is for them to sort. If we were in Wychwood, trust I would make sure we got our answers. But it is best we do not interfere here. Not until the accords have been signed.”

I swallowed the lump which formed in my dried throat. “I’m sure it is nothing to worry about,” I lied, because if I thought too hard about the mirrors, and my concerns about Duncan, I might’ve crumbled into a pile.

I needed Rafaela, and for that we had to reach Lockinge. The longer I took, the more this possibility could affect both realms.

We both knew the importance mirrors had to Duwar. Except my memory of last being in this room was clear as day. There had never been mirrors here. Why now? Yes, it was how Aldrick communicated with the demon-god during his banishment, but Duwar was here, lurking in our realm. Surely, he wouldn’t need mirrors to communicate with our world now he was in it.