The woman looked strikingly like my twin. At least in profile. She turned as if sensing a magical presence in the room that didn’t belong. Lavender eyes, not rich brown, glared at me. Or whatever she sensed about the mirror. Her face was familiar and foreign at once.
It was Vittoria, but not.
I could barely process what I was seeing. My mind churned slowly through my emotions as I sorted through the image being shown to me. Vittoria was in House Wrath. With Antonio. She must have come here before she was killed. But Wrath swore he didn’t know her… and I would not doubt him again. Which meant it was not an image from the past. It was either the present or the future. And somehow, someway, my sister was alive. At least in this realm.
Tears threatened again, but I held them back, unwilling to miss a single second of the image playing out in the magical glass. The Vittoria in the mirror cocked her head, still staring toward whatever magic my presence created. I thought of her diary, of how she’d claimed she could hear magical objects speaking to her. Perhaps the Triple Moon Mirror was chatting now.
“Vittoria!” I shouted, waving my hands. “Can you hear me?”
“It’s time.” She tore her gaze from my direction and fixed her attention on Antonio. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t see Antonio’s face, but he sounded breathless. As if he knew he was in the presence of something awe-inspiring. “I vow my life to your cause, my angel.”
Vittoria patted his head, then stood. “Give me one moment, then we’ll be off.”
“No!” I screamed. If this was the present, I could not lose my twin again. I almost dropped the mirror in my haste to get to the tower dungeon. I managed to place it in my satchel and dashed up the stairs, racing around and around until I reached the tree trunk door.
I darted into the night, racing through the Sin Corridor, tripping over the roots and rocks I hadn’t noticed the first time. Bloodied and bruised, I pushed harder and faster. I had to get to House Wrath. In far less time than should have been possible, I burst through the doors, doubling over as I caught my breath. Anir’s dagger was at my throat.
“Devil’s blood, Emilia. I thought…” He sheathed his blade and offered a hand. “Are you hurt? Wrath couldn’t detect you anywhere.”
“Where is he?”
“You’re bleeding.”
I could not care less. “Where is he?”
“He just left for the Sin Corridor. It’s the only place he can’t sense you.”
“I need to get to the dungeon tower. Get Wrath. Now.”
Anir shouted something, perhaps a curse, or a plea, but I didn’t dare stop. I had no way of knowing if the scene I’d been shown was the present or future. But one way or another, my sister was here or would be here, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream or collapse in tears.
I raced up the stairs, up and up as I climbed with energy and strength that seemed to be endless. Without stopping to collect myself, I wrenched the door open. Wrath said he had magicked it to my hand, and he hadn’t lied.
“Antonio?” I called out, fully stepping into the room. A taper smoked from the chairside table, as if it had just been blown out or had been snuffed by fast movement. My hand moved to my dagger. The room was not large, only big enough to house his bed, the small reading nook, and a curtained screen to offer privacy as he washed and used a chamber pot. I stared at the screen. There was no sound coming from behind it. “Hello?”
A prickle of unease slid down my spine as I slowly made my way to the screen and whatever lay hidden beyond. I yanked the curtain back and blew out a frustrated breath.
There, set next to a pitcher and washbasin, was another enchanted skull. My heartbeat quickened as I drew near, waiting, body tensed, to hear its message. It came to life just as I closed the distance with my final step.
“Come to the Shifting Isles, sister. We have much to discuss about breaking the remainder of our curse. Answers await your arrival. Until then. Stand back.”
I didn’t think, I leapt aside and the skull exploded into glittering dust, leaving nothing but the chilling message ringing in my ears. I stood there, chest heaving as the impossible became real. My sister was alive.
Vittoria lived.
I choked on a mad giggle that bubbled up from my throat. Vittoria could come home. We could go back to Nonna, and our parents. We could cook and laugh and teach our own daughters how to cook in Sea & Vine. Life would resume. We could still have the future we’d dreamed of. Together. And if somehow she couldn’t return to the mortal world, I would stay here. No matter what, we would be reunited soon. She’d been here. I’d missed her by minutes, seconds.