Some truths do not grant the freedom you seek. Once known you can’t ever go back.
Choose wisely.
—S.
Samael. Wrath. His note was eerily similar to the warning issued by the Crone, but for me, no matter what, there was no going back or moving forward until I granted my sister eternal rest and peace. I traced the S he’d signed the message with, his truth I could never again deny.
I wasn’t surprised Wrath had found the stolen grimoire. He was, after all, searching for a spell to restore his cursed wings. However, I was surprised that he’d left the spell book alone, even after deducing that I’d take it from his House of Sin.
He knew firsthand how truth could cut as much as it had the power to heal. I’d shown him that. He had proven through his actions that he wasn’t as evil as the world believed. He was a blade of justice and he cut down those who’d been condemned without emotion.
A soldier following orders, ruled by duty and honor.
And I’d been unable to tell him I saw that. Saw him. He was the balance of right and wrong. He was neither good nor evil; he simply existed, just as he’d once told me.
Candles flickered wildly, casting shadows around the darkened chamber. The Crone and Seven Sisters had disappeared, leaving me alone to my task.
I ignored the fear pressing in, stealing my breath. Maybe it was my brush with an actual goddess—something I hadn’t quite wrapped my mind around—or maybe it was this subterranean chamber, but I’d never been one to get squeamish over small spaces or being in cellars. I refused to start now. I was so close. So close to the truth that had evaded me all these months.
If all went well, in minutes, I’d finally know what had happened to my sister.
I paused. The Triple Moon Mirror might show me the moments leading up to my twin’s death. Or worse, I might witness her murder firsthand. It was one thing to come upon her brutalized body after the fact, but to watch it happen… I shuddered.
“Be brave.” I found the spell I’d marked a few nights before and exhaled. This was it. No matter what I saw now, I’d know who had taken Vittoria’s life. “Past, present, future, find. Show me my biggest desire hidden deep within the universe’s mind.”
At first, like the summoning spell I’d used on Wrath, nothing happened. I stared at the hand mirror, willing the biggest desire of my heart to the forefront of my thoughts. I pictured my twin, and, for the first time in months, could imagine her crystal clear. I heard her carefree laughter, smelled her lavender and white sage scent, felt the strength of her love for me.
A bond so powerful death could not diminish it.
Light flickered in the mirror, followed by swirling dark clouds. It seemed as if a storm were brewing in the glass. Magic buzzed through the metal, startling me, but I held tight, unwilling to look away or drop the Triple Moon Mirror now that I had it.
The storm inside it persisted, but muffled voices now slipped in. My pulse pounded. I willed the storm blocking my view to subside, to grant me the chance to see my twin.
Slowly, as if the scene had been captured in a jar of honey and lazily tipped over, dripping into view, a room emerged. There were windows set inside a nook. Outside, snowcapped mountains towered above mist. It took a moment to place, but it looked like the chamber where Wrath held Antonio prisoner.
The mirror’s vantage point shifted farther back, allowing more of the space to be seen.
I blinked as the oversized leather chair was plainly visible. Along with the human who’d murdered my twin. He was in the middle of a conversation, but whoever he spoke to was just out of view. Then I heard the other voice. And my heart stuttered.
“… my bidding well.”
Vittoria. Unshed tears stung my eyes when I realized it must be an illusion. Antonio hadn’t been speaking to a person—someone probably sent an enchanted skull to him. I had no idea how this one sounded so close to the real thing, especially when mine had sounded slightly wrong, but I desperately wanted it to speak again. No matter that the voice was clipped and edged in steel, it was the closest I’d come to hearing my twin in months.
I silently begged the voice to speak again.
Prayers answered, a woman strode over to Antonio and perched on the arm of his chair. She wore lavender gauze that seemed to blow on some magical breeze. Dark hair cascaded in loose curls down her back, and her bronze skin practically glowed. She looked like a painting of a Roman deity sprung to life. And yet there was something so familiar about her casual pose.
“Holy goddesses above. It cannot be.”