The river carried her deep into the Outlands.
Mist clung to the black water, curling over the boat like ghostly fingers. Every creak of the wood felt too loud. Every splash of the oarless drift made her think of pursuit.
Her body ached from the blast. Her hands still tingled with heat that wasn't her own.
But the worst pain was in her chest.
Eldric stayed behind… to face them.
The thought made her stomach twist. Eldric—the one person who had never looked at her like she was a danger—was now in their hands. And she didn't even know who they were.
The Mirror shifted in her pocket.
April hesitated, then pulled it out.
It was heavier than before, the silver frame warm against her palm. Its surface was not glass, but liquid light—rippling, breathing, like a living thing.
And when she stared into it… it stared back.
The water around her stilled. The wind vanished.
The light in the Mirror deepened into a thousand tiny pinpricks, like a night sky trapped in silver.
Then a voice—not quite male, not quite female—echoed inside her skull.
"April of the Flame… Daughter of the Fallen Crown… The time to choose is now."
She gripped the edges tighter. "Choose what?"
"Power… or safety. One will keep you alive. The other will make you unstoppable."
Her pulse quickened. "I just want Eldric back."
The voice laughed softly—like crackling embers.
"Then you'll need both. But the fire you awaken will burn more than your enemies."
A sudden thump shook the boat.
April's head snapped up. The mist swirled violently, and something massive glided just beneath the water's surface. A shadow the size of a house.
She scrambled to the far side of the boat, but the shape followed, circling. The water bulged… and a pale, clawed hand broke through the surface, gripping the edge.
The thing began to pull itself up.
Its face—if it could be called that—was a skull of glistening bone and glowing blue eyes. The smell of rot and river sludge filled the air.
April's breath hitched. "What—"
The Mirror pulsed in her hand.
Instinct took over. She lifted it, and light burst from its surface—pure, blinding gold. The creature screamed, its skin blistering where the light touched. It flung itself backward into the depths, vanishing into the mist.
The boat rocked violently. April fell to her knees, clutching the Mirror.
The voice returned, sharper now:
"Every time you call me, the flame within you grows. Every time it grows… you lose something."
Her throat tightened. "Lose what?"
The voice didn't answer. The stars in the Mirror dimmed, returning to rippling light.
The current quickened, carrying her into darkness.
Far behind her, on the riverbank, the silver-masked leader stood watching the water.
"She's awake," he murmured to the two hunters beside him. "The clock has started."
🔥 Teaser for Chapter 9:Blood ties are the heaviest chains—and April is about to learn hers were forged in fire.