Page 16 of The Eternal Mirror (Lucifer’s Mirror #3)

Rebel Princess Walks Into a Dungeon...

I ’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here.

Which is exactly why I am.

The guard who brought us supper had a limp and a loose tongue.

I smiled at him nicely—hey, I can do nice if I try very hard—and asked questions I already knew the answers to, to get him chatting.

And he let slip that Khronus is away from the palace for the evening, and so here I am—alone, sneaking through the dungeon passageways beneath the palace like a cliché rebel princess.

Yup. That’s me.

Earlier today, when we’d parted, I’d asked Khronus if I was a prisoner. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I believe in choice. It reveals far more than chains ever could.”

Yeah, right. Tell that to all the people in the dungeons. But I didn’t say that. I smiled sweetly. Personal growth. “So I’m not a prisoner, then?”

“You are free to go where you please—but stay within the palace walls. For your own safety, of course.”

Of course.

Still, I’m sort of surprised no one’s stopped me.

Either Khronus is too arrogant to care what I’m up to…or he wants me to find something, and he’s letting me wander his palace like a rat in a maze.

My money’s on too arrogant.

Or maybe that’s wishful thinking—I hate being manipulated.

I left Zayne and Josh in the room. Zayne wanted to come with me, but I told him I’d be more inconspicuous alone. And besides, someone had to stay with Josh, and it wasn’t going to be me.

I’ve been here before, when I rescued Khaos from his father’s clutches.

The place hasn’t improved since. The air is hot, but not in a tropical beach sort of way; it's more like Hell’s fires heat.

Damp stone walls, iron sconces with flickering blue flames, and the stench of decay lingering in the air, as if this place is rotting from the inside out. Ugh .

But I’m here to fulfill a deathbed promise. Well, not so much a death bed as a death stone floor promise. That’s where I found Winter, bleeding out from a knife wound to the belly and way beyond the help of any healer, including me.

Her last words were to beg me to find her brother Niall, if I could. To save him, if at all possible. So step one is finding him. The dungeons seem like an obvious place.

It’s strangely quiet down here; most of the cell doors are open and the cells are empty. I suppose Khronus got rid of a few prisoners to Zayne’s basilisk. I remember him saying they were Wolfpack—Khaosti’s old legion and men still loyal to Khaosti. Unfortunately, they had died for that.

I take a left turn at a fork and head deeper.

There are no guards in evidence, which is also strange. Last time I was here, there were plenty, but then Khaos—or rather Fury—had killed them all, and maybe they haven’t been replaced yet.

The corridor twists again, and I start to recognize things: the patterns in the stone, the thick rusted chains bolted into the walls, even the weight in the air. I’ve been this way before.

I pass the spot that caught my attention last time—where the corridor branches off to the left—and that same low-grade hum prickles along my skin.

I stop.

The air is...off. Still and sharp. Like something holding its breath.

I peer into the shadows. The stone looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same. It radiates heat—not warmth, but a warped kind of energy, like it’s been saturated with something that shouldn’t exist .

I press my fingers to the wall. Magic pulses under the surface. Old. Splintered.

My pulse kicks.

This isn’t normal.

It feels wrong in the same way he feels wrong. That same twisted flavor of magic I’ve come to associate with Khronus. Like the air around him is slightly warped and reality has been...edited.

A pressure builds behind my eyes, just for a second, and I swear I see a flicker of light in the corner of the corridor. It’s like a silver vein running through the stone—there, then gone.

Something is down here. Something broken.

But I don’t have time for this. Not right now.

I press the weirdness down, wrap it up in mental duct tape, shove it onto the ever-growing deal with later pile in my head, and move on.

Still, as I walk away, a part of me wonders if that’s exactly what Khronus wanted me to find. That corridor. That flicker of something broken.

“Choice reveals far more than chains ever could.”

God, I hate that voice in my head.

What if I’m not wandering at all? What if every step I take is one he’s already mapped?

Another corridor. Another door.

Heavy black iron and closed. Interesting.

I press my ear to the metal.

Breathing.

Slow. Ragged .

I twist the handle. It’s locked, of course. A quick spell takes care of that. The lock clicks, and I push the door open. It groans on the hinges like it’s screaming in pain.

The smell hits me first—almost choking the breath from me and making my gorge rise.

It’s something I don’t ever think I will get used to: thick and sour, part man, part madness.

The light is dim, and it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust. There’s no furniture, just dirty straw strewn over the stone floor.

And a man.

He’s slumped against the far wall, chained at the wrists and ankles. Thin. Gaunt. His head is down, long dark hair hiding most of his face. But he raises his head slowly as I step inside.

He has Winter’s eyes. In fact, the similarities are uncanny. They might be twins, but I know he’s a year older.

“Niall?” I say.

He blinks and then shakes his head. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“My name is Amber. I was a friend of your sister.”

His whole body stiffens. “You know Winter? Is she here?” He looks around almost wildly, as though she might appear from nowhere.

I step closer. He watches me like I might bite. Fair. I press my lips together for a second. I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I’ve got to say this. “I’m sorry, but Winter is dead.”

Shock flares on his face, followed by some other emotion that I don’t have time to recognize before it is blanked from his expression. “How? When?”

“A day ago. She was killed by Khronus’s men. ”

His breath catches, but he doesn’t say anything. His eyes are bright.

“She asked me to find you. To help you if I can.”

His head drops forward, his hair hiding his face again. He’s silent for what seems like an age. Then he looks up and into my face. “And can you help me?” he asks. “Can you get me out of here?”

I pause. Because honestly? I have no fucking clue.

But I nod anyway. “I think so. But not today. I have to sort some things out first.” Like working out how to escape the palace.

Khronus might be giving me the freedom of the place, but I suspect I’ll be stopped quicker than.

..something really quick if I try to leave the building. Even if it is for my own safety. Hah.

“Here. I brought you some food,” I say, rummaging in the bag slung over my shoulder. I hand him some bread and cheese, and he stuffs it in his mouth like he’s starving. Which he probably is. “Are you okay?” I ask. “I’m a healer—if you need any...healing.”

He shakes his head and stuffs more bread into his mouth.

I straighten and look around the cell, but there’s nothing I can do to make it better for him, except get us all out of here, and that’s a work in progress. He finishes eating and looks up at me.

I study him: the hollow cheeks, the bruises, the too-thin wrists. He’s definitely been hurt. But his eyes—when they meet mine again—aren’t broken. There’s hope for him if we can get him out of here. For Winter.

“I’m sorry about Winter. She was a good person. She didn’t deserve to die.”

He flinches—just slightly. “Do any of us?” he asks .

Actually, I could make a list. “I have to go. But just stay alive, and I’ll be back for you, and we’ll get out of this place.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs.

I meet his gaze one last time. There’s something too smooth about his face. Too still. Like he’s already planning his next move.

I smile anyway. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

And maybe he means it.

But I’ve learned not to trust smooth smiles and quiet voices. And maybe I shouldn’t forget that Winter betrayed us.

Maybe it runs in the family.

I head back the way I came, retracing my steps. I’m just approaching the weird place that reeked of dark magic when I turn the corner and freeze.

Movement.

Boots stamping on the stone floor. The flicker of a torch flame.

I drop instantly into the shadows, back pressed to the wall. A moment later, a pair of guards stride past. And then he steps into view.

Khronus.

Shit.

He’s walking fast, flanked by two more guards, heading straight for that corridor. The moment he nears the junction, I feel it again—that ripple in the air. Like reality is flexing to let him through.

He pauses. Says something I can’t quite hear. The guards stay behind .

And then—he moves toward the wall.

No, through the wall.

There’s a flash—silver, sharp, and wrong—and he vanishes into a door that wasn’t there a second ago. A slice of something on the other side flickers into view for the briefest moment. Just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of...

I don’t know. Light. Movement. Something twisted and shifting, like liquid shadow caged in glass.

An inhuman screech slices through the air, thin and hollow—like the echo of glass breaking in another world. I take a step forward, then stop as the door seals behind him with a soundless snap swallowing the scream. The wall smooths over, as though it never opened.

The guards don't move.

I wait, breath locked in my throat, until one of them shifts slightly—just enough to confirm they're not statues.

Okay. I can work with that.

Keeping low, I hug the opposite wall, inching along the darker stretch of corridor. Every footstep is agony—slow, deliberate, silent. If one of them so much as blinks in my direction...

But they don't.

I pass the junction. My heart doesn’t start beating again until I’m three turns away, back in the familiar rot and stone of the dungeons.

I told myself I’d come back later to deal with the weirdness .

But with that screech still echoing in my head? It just moved to the top of my to-do list. Because whatever’s down there—whatever Khronus is hiding—it isn’t just dangerous. It’s alive .

And I don’t know what I saw in that flash of silver.

But I have the strangest feeling that it saw me too.