Page 7

Chapter

Five

D espite this being the softest bed I have ever laid on, I cannot find enough peace to rest. I guess I’ve been spoiled by big muscular bodies, and now mine is sulking with the absence of my knights.

“Idols in Idylican,” the genie rumbles. “Can you stop moving around and get some rest?”

He’s doing his best to be a substitute by lying next to me and telling me tales of his life. But my head is too full of the million and one revelations.

“Do you believe he’s the magic mirror from the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale?” I ask. “Because surely that’s something you lead with.”

“I didn’t detect any lies, and if he’s an origin relic, then he’s super old.”

I roll over to face him and prop my head in my hand. “A what?”

“Origin relic. They are the original objects from the fairy tales, the ones the Idols used.”

We spend a long time honoring and worshiping the Idols, but I’ve never considered the magical objects littered through the tales and where they might be. Perhaps it’s logical to assume the Idols took them to where they spend their diurnals.

“They are prophesied to have great power,” the genie tells me. “History books have twisted the tales over time, and their core forgotten.”

“Is there a way of confirming his claim?”

“You think he lied?”

I sigh. “No, but he’s a few raisins short of a pancake. Perhaps it’s just an optimistic view on his end.”

The genie hums. “I am aware of someone who should be able to examine him and determine if his claim is true. But my gut is telling me he is no ordinary mirror.”

“It’s worrying that he is saying he’s from one narrative, but currently exists in another.”

“Very true. Let’s table this until we get you back on dry land. We will get that smart sister of yours to research it.”

“She’ll appreciate your confidence in her.”

He stretches his arms behind his head and smiles. “So while we are waiting for the mirror man, let’s put together what we know about the sword.”

I glare at the offending object responsible for all my bad luck and sausage blocking me from my knights. I couldn’t die a knight virgin. That would be super sad. I would cry for at least an annus. Dead people cry, right? Because they need an outlet for all that pent up emotion.

“Each generation of knights fights to become worthy of receiving the sword from the Lady of the Lake. They have to be worthy enough, because once she relinquishes the sword, she dies.”

“There isn’t always a Lady? Only when the sword is down here?”

I nod. “That’s what I understand.”

“How does the sword get back here? Could it be that a knight has the blade for an annus? Longer? Then at some point, it must return.”

I tilt my head. “I am unsure. But their father, Arthur, had the dagger part of the sword. I reunited the two pieces, resulting in me being brought here.”

“What if the current king gets to keep half the sword until the realm is ready for a new leader?”

The theory is excellent, but there is something niggling me about this entire narrative.

“Two nasty surprises accompany this legend. One is the dragon thing, where a knight has to prove his worth by murdering his own brother, and the other is the Lady of the Lake. That feels like overkill for one legend.”

“Perhaps Gwyneth can create a solution to at least save you from the water, even if you are still attached to the sword.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for, because I am feeling very unDaphne-like down here.”

My chest tightens as I imagine my annus filled with fish and no sausage. This cannot be it. I refuse to accept my fate. I have things to do, capons to nurture, dragons to tame, and family to care for.

I want to hear Malachi’s laugh and Theo’s teasing.

I want to taste Nash’s darkness and warm Hart’s stone-cold exterior.

My sister also needs floof protection from cruel princes, and me to make sure her life is full and colorful.

Otherwise, she will get lost in those stuffy books.

Her light is meant for the realm, not the archives.

My fingers drum on the bed as I push away the future under the sea. If I refuse to accept it, then it cannot happen. That is a realm law.

I jump up from the bed and marvel at the way the water supports my body. I have had fewer accidents down here than ever before. But it’s still worth the trade.

“I need to do something while we wait for our super-secret powerful mirror man to return. But Frank and Linda said I shouldn’t leave the house at night, as it’s apparently hazardous to do so.”

“Have you explored your house yet?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s begin. How much trouble can you get into inside a house?”

“Depends on the house.”

The genie follows me around the bedroom.

The ruby eye of the dragon glints, as if observing us.

I point at it. “No judgment from a magic sword that drowns unsuspecting maidens and lurks around, waiting for a worthy knight. Your entire existence is at the whim of a knight being selfish enough to kill a woman to claim his destiny.”

“Why are you speaking to the sword?”

“Because it’s judgy.”

“It talks back?”

“No, it’s too snooty for that. It just gives me the unimpressed stare of steel as it watches me blunder from one disaster to another. It is little more than a cursed ornament.”

“I wonder how many there are,” Genie muses.

“Swords?”

“Excaliburs.”

I blink. Perhaps there are more Ladies of the Lake? That means I could pass off the project to someone who wasn’t a knight virgin—maybe to an old lady at the end of her annuses. I’ll keep that approach in mind for when I can speak with Gwyneth and my knights.

“This room is boring.” Genie shoots through an internal wall. “Holy Idol balls,” he shouts. “What have you done, Daphne?” His face pops back through the wall, his eyes wide. “You already killed someone?”

“I did no such thing. I’m not responsible for anyone’s demise.”

Faint amusement drifts off the sword this time.

“Shush, you.”

The genie rolls his eyes. “When you’re done communicating with inanimate objects, you should probably check out the dead elderly guy in this room.”

I suppress a shiver as I leave the bedroom and fling open the door to the next room.

Tiny, luminescent creatures embedded in the walls create an eerie blue glow.

The room is bare apart from a casket on a table in the center.

I take three steps forward and lean over.

Sure enough, there’s a very well-preserved older guy inside, with bushy white eyebrows.

He wears a long gray robe and has his hands crossed over his chest, protecting a large black leather-bound book.

He still has a little color in his cheeks.

“How dead do you think he is?” I wonder as I glance at the genie across from me.

“Do levels of deceased exist?”

“He looks like he’s sleeping. Unless he’s a peculiar Sleeping Beauty who got lost on her way to the spindle and ended up down here, he’s remarkably well-preserved.”

The genie shoves his head through the glass lid and into the guy’s chest. He waits for a tempo, then retreats.

“Definitely dead,” he decides.

I stalk around the edge of the table, looking for clues. I pause at the foot and stare at the silver nameplate.

“Merlin,” I mutter, a hint of recognition prickling my memory. “I wonder what role he plays?”

“I’m certain Merlin is part of the King Arthur legend, but I can’t recall his role.”

“Hopefully, the Stirlings know. If not, it’s another thing to add to Gwyneth’s list.” Phew, I would keep that girl busy. “Should we check out that book?”

“The one clutched in the dead guy’s hands?”

I roll my eyes. “Unless you can see any other books around?”

“You’ll have to break the glass. It lacks a clasp.”

“I’ve been here less than a diurnal. I believe that refraining from smashing the furniture is wise, at least until I know their stance on accidental damage.”

“However, this would not be an accident.”

“You are a bad influence, and if I stay in here for too long, I’m sure accidents will occur.”

Genie huffs. “Fine. No smash and grab—yet.”

I cast one last glance at the dead guy. “We can table him.”

“He’s already tabled.”

“You’re hilarious,” I mutter as I back out of the room. My shoulders sag as I reach the hallway without incident. See, I got this. Eat that, Idols.

“Oh, fair Daphne, where are you?” the mirror man hollers.

I race back into the bedroom. Granted, it’s a whole five steps, but I put everything I have into it. I skid to a halt in front of the mirror. Genie darts through the wall and settles beside me.

“I have found my counterpart. Prepare yourselves. I’m about to thrust into you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t believe that’s what he meant,” Genie mutters.

The mirror man shimmers with silver.

“I’m ready. Thrust me,” I declare.

My heart thuds wildly in my chest. This is it. I’m about to be reunited with everyone I love and care for.