The moon was a sliver of bone in the Southern sky. Inside her bedroom, Liera huddled beneath her heavy duvet, her breath coming in shallow, anxious puffs.
With trembling fingers, she reached into the secret pocket she had sewn into her mattress and pulled out the sapphire mirror.
She called to the mirror three times. The silver surface swirled with a misty, ethereal blue light before settling into the image of a dimly lit room in the North. Verona appeared, her face framed by loose, dark curls. She looked weary, the shadows under her eyes speaking of long hours spent over ledgers and silk, but the moment she saw Liera's pale face, her expression sharpened into total focus.
"Liera," Verona whispered, her voice a low anchor in the dark. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
