Erotica Ebooks: Free ebook sample of "Magic's Reflection" by Shiloh Darke

Prologue

When Camelot fell, a Magical war was waged. A war between good and evil wizards and witches of the world; a fight for dominance and power. As a result, the supernatural battle was ongoing, yet hidden from the eyes of Mortals.

After several centuries of this war, Merlin and his half sister Raven built a safe place within the Magical realm for the wizards and witches of the future. The Palace became a haven of safety for any Magical creature needing it. In many ways, the mystical Palace became the center of the Magical world.

Most Mortals could not be trusted with such high secrets. Some Mortals however, did know of the existence of the Magical beings of their world, because every once in a while, they became the parents of one of the Magical ones. For this reason, prejudice soon began to rule both races.

One wizard, known as The Shadow, decided to use this distrust between pure wizards and those Mortal-born to his advantage. He attempted to take Merlin's safe place from him, and seize control of the world of wizardry for himself. He swayed many to his cause, blinding them to his treachery.

He lost the battle that ensued, but at great cost to all involved. Many innocents died, along with some of the greatest wizards of the world. Merlin himself was taken from the Magical world.

But, even after the war was done, the battle wasn't over, and even today those who would endanger what remains of the Magical realm still exist. For the Shadow is not gone from this world. Those who would do harm still exist with much hatred brewing on all sides.

The Shadow feeds off of their hatred and distrust. It destroys their hopes and dreams. Six Magical beings have the power to defeat it. But in order to overcome it, they must open themselves up to things they have refused to allow themselves in the past. In so doing, they must trust in the power of Love . . . and in each other.

Chapter 1

The fire burned. Bitterly, he stared at the imMortal flame before him. He truly hated Nathaniel Jameson. He hated every little thing about the tiresome boy. He dallied with the lives around him without even thinking about the consequences of his carelessness. Oh, sure, the boy was brave. As brave as any other fool who thought himself invincible! But, in the end, his bravery had counted for naught. He had died anyway, killed in the same blast that had also cost The Shadow his own life.

Darius smirked. Who would have thought it would happen that way? Who would have guessed that what would kill the one, would also snuff out the life of the other? So now, he was stuck. A Keeper behind the reflection of the Looking Glass. Encased within the walls of this hard, cold mirror. Cursed here by his own son. Krystov had surprised him at the last moment by switching sides. Memories of the day his son had cast the spell that sent him into the accursed glass drifted through his mind. . .

. . ."Father, I fear you will be sent to the Keep, if you are anywhere near this final battle. I'm sorry for deceiving you . . . but you're on the losing side of this war. I don't want you to suffer the same fate as Mother." Magic in hand, Krystov had cursed Darius into the mirror and left him stranded inside its depths with no choice but to watch the final battle with no possible way of adding his strength to either side. As he'd watched, he'd seen the moments of the final battle. He watched helplessly as Krystov, Justin, Celeste, and Nathaniel fought side by side. Celeste had been knocked out by the same blast that had killed both The Shadow and Nathaniel, while Justin scrambled to pull both her and Krystov away from the blast.

When the smoke cleared Darius could see no sign of them. Darius was alone inside the depths of the damnable mirror with no knowledge of the fate of his son―or anyone else, for that matter. He'd watched as Rebecca went mad as a result of her worry for their son when he was given his first duty as a Mage Traitor. Darius scowled at the thought of how weak she'd turned out to be. She'd succumbed to the fears in her mind and was now locked away in the Magical Hospital. She had no chance of ever leaving the safety of the padded cell that was warded against Magic, so she could not even manage to take her own life and end her misery.

Well, he sneered at the thought; at least she never had to know what had become of him. Not that the witch had ever cared. No one missed him. He doubted if anyone ever even bothered looking for him now. He was long forgotten. Discarded . . . scarcely a recollection. A distant, unpleasant memory of the past. It all seemed so long ago now. He'd been inside this accursed mirror for what was beginning to seem like an eternity. Worse still, the mirror, for some reason, had fallen into Mortal hands.

As best he could tell, the mirror was now housed in some kind of antiquities store. There was little hope that he would ever know rescue from this glass of the 'Keep' now. Krystov had disappeared after the battle. He'd never returned to claim the mirror as he'd promised he would. For all Darius knew, he was dead. A moment of panic assailed him as once more, the thought of an eternity spent behind this looking glass invaded his mind. It was a fate worse than death!

Sinking down in the darkness of the Keep, he wondered if there was ever to be a reprieve from this hell he found himself in. Surely, there was a way to end this torment. As he sat, mulling over his predicament, he heard the sound of voices. Curious, he rose and moved to the mirror's edge to see who was talking. A woman with oddly familiar features was talking to the shop's attendant: "I am just so delighted by how well preserved this old mirror is. You always have such lovely things here."

The middle-aged woman smiled first at the saleswoman, then up at the mirror. "And I just know this would be the perfect addition to my daughter's home. She needs something to brighten the place up." Darius' jaw clenched as he masked his face with his most fearsome scowl. She thinks to buy me? He moved closer to the mirror's edge, wishing his face could be seen by the two unknowing Mortals. He wanted to scream at them to open their eyes and see him. Oblivious to their unseen observer, the two women negotiated the price of the antique mirror.

Darius stared at them, appalled. He watched in horror as the strangely familiar woman paid for the mirror and the sales clerk called her son to pack the artifact. He scowled at the scrawny boy who moved to grasp the mirror's frame. "If you drop me, you'll regret it!" The boy hefted the mirror up over his head without any indication he'd even heard Darius. The wizard cursed angrily.

It mattered not one bit if he ranted and raved about the boy carrying him, or that the woman buying his mirror looked oddly familiar. All that mattered was that he was being taken away from this place. Perhaps the woman would have an inkling of Magic in her blood and might even help him escape from this glass keep. It was a momentary ray of hope, one that faded when the mirror's depths were thrown into darkness as the wrapping paper covered his only source of light.

"I hope you don't mind, dear, but, I brought you a house warming present." Darius found himself listening intently to the voice of the woman who had purchased him. He wondered if the daughter was as boringly Mortal as the mother. When the voice came, it was a sweet sound to his ears. "Thanks, Mum. You really didn't have to bring me anything." Darius trembled with an excitement he could barely contain. He knew that voice. He'd heard it before, many times he had listened to the little smart-ass explain this and that to her friends, and upon occasion, even his son.

Celeste Swansong! Of course! That was why the other lady's unruly curls and flashing eyes had seemed so familiar! Darius silently thanked the powers that be for the mercy they'd seen fit to show upon him. Surely, Miss Swansong will be able to see my face in the mirror and will know how to reach Krystov. Then, he would know freedom again! "Nonsense," her mother chirped happily. "This mirror will look stunning above the mantle."

"Oh . . ." Darius could hear a vague sense of disappointment in Celeste's voice. "You brought a mirror?"

Mrs. Swansong turned and regarded her daughter for a moment. "Yes, well, it's a beautiful antique, and I just thought it would look lovely here."

Celeste sighed and returned her attention to the book in her hands. "I'm sure you're right mother." Her voice dropped lower, making it impossible for Darius to hear her soft mumble. Suddenly, Darius was almost blinded as the wrapping paper was torn away from him. Stepping forward, he looked out to gauge his new surroundings. Actually, he was quite impressed by what he saw. Celeste's mother had seen fit to place him in a room that was obviously a cozy little library. A warm fire burned in the hearth below him, and an easy chair rested a few feet away from it. A desk sat at the far side of the room. Several books were stacked upon it.

Hesitantly, Darius stepped up to the mirror's edge and gazed out into the room. Celeste sat in the easy chair, running her hand along the page of her book, oblivious to the mirror. He observed her intently for a few moments. For some reason, although her fingers seemed to be following the words, her eyes did not focus on the page. However, it wasn't until her mother spoke that the reason for her strange behavior dawned on him. "Just because you've lost your eyesight doesn't mean your guests have. Your friends might appreciate something pleasing to the eye here." She smiled as she moved to kiss Celeste's cheek. "And besides . . . this is not a permanent situation. You will regain your eyesight one day."

Celeste huffed a sound of discontent and snapped the book closed before turning toward her mother. "You've been saying that since the final battle, but there's been no change! Mum, I love you," her voice had risen at first, but softened as she addressed the older woman softly, "but I am never going to regain my eyesight. It's been two years. I'm all right the way I am. I'm even fairly content. At least I haven't lost my memory, like Krystov, or my arm, like Justin. Or even my life . . ." she paused for a moment to sigh regretfully, "like Nathaniel."

Darius drew a sharp breath at the mention of Krystov. Lost his memory? But that would mean . . . Darius took a deep breath to try and calm himself. That is why he never came back to free me. Someone cursed my son. Concern made him want to ask her a million questions. Was he recovering? Did he still have the Manor? Was he happy?

Celeste's mother shook her head and rose to her full height. "I was told they never found his body. For all we know, Nathaniel isn't dead. You'll see! He'll come back one of these days."

Darius' attention was drawn back to Celeste when she violently tossed the book she'd been holding in her mother's direction. "Mother! Nathaniel has been gone for two years! Krystov can't remember anything that happened before the blast that hit The Shadow and Nathaniel as they dueled." She stopped and took a ragged breath before continuing in a gentler tone, "If it hadn't been for Justin holding him back when it hit, he more than likely would have lost his life, too!"

Grace Swansong slumped slightly and looked away from the sightless girl. "I know what's been said, Celeste. But I also know that if you cannot cling to some semblance of hope, then you might as well have died along with the others who lost their lives that day." Tears flooded the older woman's eyes. "Sometimes, I think you wish you had died."

Without another word, Grace turned and exited her daughter's home, leaving Celeste standing alone in the center of the room. Darius worked hard to calm his racing heart. Krystov had been injured in one of the worst ways. Leaning against the glass of the mirror, he turned to stare at the witch who could not see him, even if he were visible to witches and wizards. Watching as she bent to begin searching for her discarded book, he spoke to himself; for he doubted there was any chance that she could hear him. "Well, at least he isn't dead."

A startled gasp came from the young woman who'd been kneeling on the carpet. His eyes turned back to see her grasping her Spell Weaver and turning in slow circles, as if searching for an intruder in the dark. "Who's here?"

Chapter 2

Celeste fought to remain calm. She had no way of knowing where the man who'd spoken was, but she could hear him breathing. He'd said nothing else after his first words, but she knew he was still in the room.

Darius stared in awe at the small crazy-haired witch. Her hair fell in riotous curls all the way to her waist now. He couldn't help but notice that although she looked somewhat unkempt, she'd grown into somewhat of a beauty. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he considered how to speak to her in a way that would not end up with her sending a hex straight to the mirror. The direct approach had always worked best in such situations, so he took a deep breath and spoke in a calm, serene voice.

"I'm not going to harm you, Miss Swansong." She whipped around to face the mirror.

Her eyes were wild, but the pupils seemed fixed, refusing to focus on anything. "Who are you? If you're someone I can trust, then why did you not speak up when myManorwas here?"

Darius raised an eyebrow at the thought of how her mother would have reacted to seeing her daughter in a conversation with a mirror that, to her Mortal eyes, didn't talk back. "Because, apparently, Mortals cannot hear me."

Celeste tilted her head in consideration of that. A light seemed to enter her eyes as she realized where his voice was coming from. She smiled at the thought running through her head. "Are you an enchanted mirror?" she asked softly.

Darius huffed and crossed his arms in frustration. "More like it's my Keeper," he growled under his breath.

Celeste stepped cautiously closer to the mirror. "So, that means you're trapped inside the glass?" He scowled and glared at the young witch. "Give the Mortal-born a Magus of Merlin."

Her jaw dropped. "Darius Maridian!"

His scowl gave way to a mirthless laugh. "Indeed! I am the one and only . . ." Squaring her shoulders, she turned and left the room. As Darius watched her leave, he suddenly felt bereft and alone. His scowl turned to a look of dejected remorse. "Wait!" he pleaded softly. "Please."

Standing in the doorway, Celeste kept her back to him as she pondered why he would want her to stay. "I see no reason to stay in this room with you. Although I am friendly with your son, it is because he has changed." She turned back into the room for only a moment to say the rest. "You, however, are still a self-righteous, hypocritical, disgusting untainted bloody git!" She almost seemed to look through him as she spoke to the mirror. "And, it seems, you have no choice but to occupy the mirror that is now housed in the library of my home."

Her frown turned into a smile that Darius recognized as one he sometimes wore himself. "I, on the other hand, do have the choice not to stay in the library. Good day!"

With that, she turned and left him staring helplessly at the doorway she had just gone through. Rage engulfed him. He would have given anything at that moment to feel his hands wrapped around her scrawny little neck so he could squeeze the very life out of her. He had questions! He wanted answers! Was Krystov all right? How many Magical traitors were missing? Was Silvertree among them? Or had the turncoat turned back to the side of the Magus? A look of anxiety crossed Darius' handsome features as the next question came to mind. Was he ever going to get out of this bloody mirror?

* * * *

Celeste sped from the library so fast, she forgot about the table her mother had placed in the hall. Knocking into it, she gasped as the pain shot through her hip. Cursing, she rubbed her side as she moved past the table and up the stairs toward her bedroom.

Once inside the safety of her room with the door closed, she lowered herself slowly onto the coverlet and gave herself over to the tears that were threatening. It was a humiliation to be seen by one's enemy in such a weakened state.

She knew Krystov had always said that Darius was only following the Shadow because he was too far into the game to be able to get out; for the sake of their friendship, she'd kept her mouth shut. But the truth was she didn't trust Darius Maridian any further than she could throw him without the use of her Spell Weaver. She knew Krystov was hopeful of finding his father.

He remembered Darius being somewhere safe, but he just couldn't pinpoint where. Smirking, she considered that. Well, it just stood to reason. The man had always had a proud, if not somewhat peacock-like demeanor. What better place to put him than in a mirror? Just as she was musing to herself, a sound of someone blinking into her bedroom alerted her she had company.

A moment later, Justin's voice filled the chamber. "Celeste? Are you at home? I wouldn't bother you in your room, but since you didn't answer either of the other calls, I just thought I'd check." Sighing, Celeste shrugged her shoulders. "I'm here, Justin. Come in."

He smiled in a cheeky manner before stepping through. "Well, if you're not too busy!" He walked closer to her, but stopped at the foot of the bed when he saw her tears. "Hey!" he said softly. "What are the tears for?"

Drawing a shaky breath, Celeste just pursed her lips before saying, "I just miss him, Justin. Don't you? I mean, I try so hard not to begin thinking he's lost forever to us, but then . . ." Her words died on a choked sob as Justin sat beside her and gathered her in his arms, taking care not to brush his forever cold, fake hand against her. It worked just as good as a real arm. He could use it with as much ease as he had ever used the one he'd been born with.

However, it had one setback. The hand had no warmth. Touching it was to touch a cold, lifeless thing. It made dating awkward. Every witch he'd dated since he'd lost his arm had been spooked by the way his arm never warmed up when he touched them. Justin sighed as he held Celeste close. Yes, he missed Nathaniel terribly. He wanted as much as anyone for him just to show up and give them both a hard time for ever losing faith that he'd be back. But, as the days turned to months, and months to years, it was becoming painfully obvious he wasn't coming back. "Of course I miss him, Celeste. He was my best friend too, you know." Taking a shaky breath, he continued, "But I'm beginning to think the sooner we can accept the fact he isn't coming back, the better."

Celeste pulled away from him, sending a blind, heartbroken glance in his direction. But he continued voicing his thoughts, knowing not to continue would be to lie to himself as well as to her. "Just like Krystov's father," he said softly. "The sooner Krystov can accept that Darius is lost to him, the sooner he may be able to move on with his―Celeste? What's wrong? You look as if you've just seen a ghost!"

Celeste had gone white as a sheet at the mention of Darius Maridian. Her eyes were wide and once again filling with tears. Her breath had hitched in her throat and she looked as if she was about to scream. Swearing, she stood from the bed and moved away from him. "It just isn't fair!"

Justin gave her a bemused look. "Celeste, you're scaring me. What's the matter?"

Shaking her head, Celeste turned back to her old friend. "I think you need to see this."

* * * *

Justin stood in the center of Celeste's library, a look of horrified fascination on his face. His mouth worked, but no words came. He stared speechlessly at the malevolent man within the mirror who stared back at him. "Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed softly when he finally found his voice. He pointed a shaky finger toward the mirror, while turning back to his friend. "Where did he come from? Is it real? M-maybe the mirror is just enchanted to show him? We both know how incredibly vain the man was!" The latter part was a hushed whisper.

Celeste's eyes were lowered as she sat rocking herself in her chair, her arms wrapped protectively around herself as she shook her head. "Mum bought the mirror at a Mortal antique shop. She didn't see or hear him. He'd given up being heard," she sighed, "until I heard him."

An impatient huff sounded from the mirror. "Yes, yes. It's all very interesting. Now could one of you please alert my son to my condition, so he can help release me?" Justin closed his eyes and worried his lip with his teeth for a moment before turning back to meet Maridian's eyes. "I will be bringing Krystov to see you tonight. I promise, sir." He sighed, "But first, you must understand something."

Darius raised an eyebrow at the younger wizard. "And what would that be, Mr. Richardson?"

Justin ignored the insulting manner of the other wizard. "Krystov is not the same person he once was."

Darius rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously! That would be something anyone would know, when he changed sides!" Justin shook his head and wished for patience as he tried to explain. "No, sir, I am not talking about his changing sides." He looked down at his feet. "I'm talking about the fact that he can no longer work Magic . . . of any kind."

Darius stood dumbstruck within the mirror. "What are you saying?"

Celeste broke her silence at that moment. "He's saying Krystov might as well be a Mortal. He can work no Magic; not even the simplest spell. When they cursed him, it wasn't his memories that they took from him. It was his knowledge of all things Magical," she sighed. "He can't even use a Spell Weaver or brew a spell without it blowing up in his face."

Darius looked thunderstruck. "You're lying!" he said simply, even though the pounding rhythm of his heart told him the truth of it.

Justin spoke softly. "He remembers you. Both good things . . . and bad." He sighed softly and looked at his feet. "I'll bring him to see you tonight, under one condition."

The blond wizard smirked at that. "Which is?"

Justin met his eyes. "You must make no mention of wanting any help from him to undo this enchantment. He cannot help you with that. Not now." He shook his head. "Perhaps never. To ask him to do so would only upset him. And he feels enough guilt about not knowing where you are already."

Darius stood, slack-jawed, as the truth of Justin's words hit him. "What is being done to help him? Why has he lost his ability to work Magic? I have never heard of someone being stripped of their Magic in such a way."

Celeste spoke softly. "Apparently, it was something new The Shadow had been working on. Only a few of his loyal followers knew about it."

Darius shook his head. "But, I was his right hand. Why wouldn't I have known? That makes no sense."

She lay her head back against the chair, answering, "Well, it seems he doubted your loyalty after Krystov messed up and didn't kill Merlin."

Justin looked from Celeste, to Darius, and then back again. "I'll go talk to Krystov." Turning back to face the mirror, he added, "Remember what I said. I won't allow you to hurt him. He's been through enough."

With that, Justin disappeared, leaving Darius staring after him, perplexed. "Miss Swansong?" he asked in a low voice. "Is my son . . . Is Justin . . . Are they . . ."

"Lovers?" she spoke the words for him.

He nodded his head in silence, before remembering she wouldn't see the gesture. "Are they?" he asked weakly, feeling like his heart was going to explode with the answer.

Celeste shook her head. "No, but they are good friends now. Justin saved both of our lives. Our fate would have been the same as Nathaniel's if he hadn't. They've become very close."

Darius let the breath he'd been holding escape past his lips in a relieved hiss. He couldn't imagine Krystov becoming lovers with another man. It just wasn't who his son was. Celeste made to stand and leave, but Darius stayed her. "Please, don't leave." His voice was tinged in desperation.

"I did not think you would desire the company of a Mortal-born, Mr. Maridian," she said softly. Darius hated not to be able to sneer and say something snide, but he didn't want to be alone quite yet, and saying something rude would just chase her away. "I prefer anyone to being so alone." His voice was quiet, as if he was ashamed to admit the weakness. "There surely is no worse prison than this. For two long years I've been stuck here, with no way of communicating with anyone. It's a relief to be heard finally."

He watched her face for any reaction and saw the indecision on it. "Please, just sit with me for a small duration. It is a small solace to give. Isn't it?" Celeste settled back into her chair, and they took comfort in each other's company for a time.

Chapter 3

Justin stood outside Krystov's door. For a moment, he considered returning to Celeste's and telling Darius it would serve no purpose to tell Krystov of his father's whereabouts. Or at least the only purpose that would be served would be to cause more pain. Krystov had become a shell of his former self.

Once a selfish, prank-pulling prat, then a formidable wizard with the desire to do the right thing, he was now a broken man. Solemn and brooding, without so much as a glint of happiness ever lighting his eyes.

Justin knew Krystov's loss of Magic had been both good and bad. He now had a new-found respect for Mortals and the lives they led. He could appreciate the daily trials they went through. The worst part of Krystov's situation was that he thought of himself as a burden to everyone else around him. Justin clenched his hand into a fist and rapped sharply on the door.

For a moment, there was no response to his knock. Justin was just about to rap again when the door opened and steel gray eyes met and held his. Krystov was the same height as Justin. His eyes were the same color as his father's, and now his hair was almost as long.

However, unlike his father, Krystov never tied his hair back. He was a handsome man with a sullen sadness in his eyes that showed through even when he greeted Justin with a welcoming smile. "Hello there, Justin," he said finally. "I wasn't expecting to see you here today. Is Celeste all right? Does she need cheering up?" He straightened his shoulders with determination. "I'm fresh out of Magic tricks, but . . ." His words drifted off when he saw Justin blanch at his poor attempt at humor.

Justin skipped a beat while Krystov regarded him a moment, and Krystov asked softly, "What is it? Is she hurt? What have you to tell me?"

Justin looked away from Krystov, unable to meet his eyes as he delivered his news. "We've discovered the fate of your father," he said simply. Inwardly, he prayed that Krystov wouldn't press to know until Celeste could be the one to tell him. She'd always been better at delivering unsettling news.

Krystov's face went blank. The only emotion betrayed was the ever-present pain emanating from him. He seemed to be steeling himself for the worst. When Justin provided no more information, he asked, "Well? Are you enjoying having me on, or will you tell me what you know?"

Justin shook his head. "I think it would be better to simply show you." He shook his head. "I have no words to explain it; you must see." Moving past Krystov and into the flat, Justin took hold of Krystov's shoulder. "I'll take us there. You really need to see this for yourself."

The blond opened his mouth to protest leaving without more of an explanation, but before he could utter a single word, they disappeared with a loud pop.

* * * *

Celeste had just finished pouring herself a cup of tea when Justin and Krystov exploded into the room.

"I absolutely abhor it when you do that! I cannot stand it! It makes me feel like a bloody, spinning top!" Krystov's voice was quivering with distress. Ever since his loss of the use of Magic, he had been very uncomfortable with such things as blinking to destinations.

It was hard for him to trust others not to splinch him when using Magic to travel. Celeste picked up another cup and felt for the handle of the teapot. Quietly, she poured Krystov a cup and set it down on the table just in front of her. She waited patiently for Krystov's reaction to the mirror.

Justin sighed as he glanced at the mirror where it was plain that Darius was watching his son anxiously. The expression on the older wizard's face was one he'd never seen before. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Krystov," Justin said softly, "but I couldn't imagine that you would mind, given what we've discovered."

"Of course he won't mind once he sees!" Darius spoke, loud enough for all to hear him. Justin turned to face him, and Celeste sat up straighter.

Krystov, however, sighed and moved to sit beside Celeste, and picking up the cup of tea she had poured for him, muttered, "Well, all I will say is that it had better be good!"

Celeste's stomach did a somersault at his words. There was no possible way that Krystov had not heard his father's voice. He had to have heard him. If he hadn't, then that must mean . . .

She shushed her thoughts before they could go any further. Was it possible? Deciding to try a different approach, Celeste turned toward him. "Krystov, my mother bought a beautiful mirror to go above the mantle." She shrugged. "I can't see it, but I've been told it's quite stunning." She expelled a shaky breath before asking, "What do you think?"

Darius, as if using her words as a cue, moved to stand in the middle of the mirror in all his proud untainted-blood glory. His lips curled into a smile only Krystov wouldn't be intimidated by. As he watched, Krystov turned to face the mirror.

Justin watched bemused, and Celeste leaned forward in her seat. They waited for Krystov to begin ranting about getting his father out of the mirror. But the infuriated words never came. Rising from his seat, Krystov walked closer to the mirror and studied it closely. Justin moved to sit beside Celeste and watched in shocked amazement when Krystov seemed to study every bit of the mirror, but failed to see his father's stunned expression.

Finally, he shrugged, turning around to look back at the two. "It is a very beautiful mirror, Celeste. Truly a conversational piece worth having in one's home." Krystov opened his mouth to say more, but stopped when he saw the shock on their faces.

Darius stepped up to the mirror and began to beat on the back of the glass with his hands. "Krystov! Krystov, it's me, boy! Can't you see me? Son! Stop playing this cruel game! I've been in here long enough! I won't stay here a moment longer! Release me!"

His son, however, moved closer to his friends. "Celeste, what's the matter? You're positively white! Justin? Close your mouth; your chin is nearly to the floor! What is the matter with the two of you?"

Justin answered, stuttering. "Y-you can't see him? Are you really n-not seeing him?"

Krystov looked perplexed. Stepping back from them as if they had some kind of unknown, contagious disease, he asked, "What are you two going on about? What was I supposed to see?"

Darius answered him, frantic. "Me! You're supposed to see me! I'm right here, son. Look at me! See me!" As if by will alone he could make himself visible to Krystov, he again began to pound on the glass.

Celeste stood and moved closer to Darius. "Stop, Darius, you aren't going to do anything but hurt yourself."

Krystov turned and looked at Celeste as if she'd gone daft. "What are doing? Talking to the mirror?"

Celeste turned back toward the sound of Krystov's voice. "Krystov, I think I understand that spell you were hit with now and how it cost you your Spell Weaver."

The blond man regarded her wearily. "What does that have to do with a mirror?"

Justin stood and joined Krystov. "It's just too bloody rich! There's no way they could create a spell for that!"

Celeste turned toward Justin. "Why not? They created one to kill instantly and another to render a person helpless against the caster's will. How far-fetched would it be to use one to turn someone into a Mortal?"

Chapter 4

Krystov stared in shock at the only two people in the world who knew the true extent of his misery. His entire life had become a joke after the final battle. Without the use of Magic, he'd become the Keeper of sorts. He would seldom leave the safety of Maridian Manor without Justin or one of the other Richardsons with him to hide the fact he could no longer even hold his Spell Weaver.

Other than informing members of the Magus, they'd kept Krystov's loss of Magic a secret. It simply would not do to have any remaining Magical traitors discover his predicament. It would've confirmed whatever curse they'd hit him with had worked. Then nothing would stop them from the same curse against other wizards.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he looked from Celeste and Justin to the mirror. His breathing became labored as an ugly scowl contorted his features. "So, he's there?" he asked, his hand trembling as he gestured toward the glass.

Celeste nodded as Justin spoke. "I wouldn't have believed it, had I not seen it with my own eyes. I can see him even now."

Krystov moved closer to the mirror and reached up to touch the edge of the silver frame. "Well, isn't that just a bleeding blessing?" he said mirthlessly.

Darius watched the pain and anger cross his son's face. This was his fault. He'd been the one to suggest the research of this curse to The Shadow at a time when he'd believed ridding the Magic world of Mortal-borns would solve their problems.

Apparently, The Shadow had already begun to question his loyalty at that point, because he'd dismissed Darius' suggestion as impossible to do. He'd never known The Shadow had anyone work the charm on.

With a sigh of defeat, Darius spoke to the two who could hear him. "This is my fault. This is my punishment for being afraid of change."

Celeste turned toward the sound of his voice. "Why would you say that, Darius?"

Krystov turned to Celeste. "What did he say?"

Darius continued as he watched his son through sad eyes. "The curse was my idea. I suggested creating a curse to turn Mortal-borns into ordinary Mortals. My idea was called the Transformatum Ordinarious Curse." He shook his head. "But it was never intended for use against just anyone; only those we saw as a threat."

Justin shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. "That's the problem with curses, Maridian. They can be used on anyone." His eyes turned to Krystov, who was once again looking lost, standing before the mirror. "Even their creators."

Celeste stood in silence for a moment, lost in thought. After a moment, her face brightened considerably. "Wait a minute! I have an idea." Taking a deep breath and raising her hands, she focused her Spell Weaver, "Krystov, come here."

Krystov looked at the Spell Weaver held in the blind witch's grasp with concern. "What are you going to do?"

Celeste frowned and shook her head. "Well, come on! If you come closer, we can do this with no chance of me missing." She smiled after a second. "Don't worry. I promise not to send you into oblivion."

Krystov expelled a sigh and moved to stand beside her. "You aren't going to hurt me, are you? I mean, we've been past all the terrible things I did to you back all those years ago for a while now . . . haven't we?"

Celeste chuckled. "That's what I love about you, Krystov. Don't even trust the friends who saved your ass during the battle. Really!" Pointing the Spell Weaver at Krystov, she spoke clearly, but softly, "De la Velare."

Darius recognized the words. He looked from Celeste to Krystov, hope evident on his face. Krystov stood there for a moment before asking, "What was that for?" Celeste sighed, but smiled. "I just lifted a very dark veil." Putting her hands on his arms, she turned him toward the mirror once more. "So now, at least you can see that which you gave up on ever seeing again."

Krystov opened his mouth to retort about her speaking in riddles. But before he could utter a word, his eyes fell on the man who watched him from inside the mirror.

When their eyes met, Darius found himself offering Krystov a sad smile. "I'm glad to see you, son."

Moving closer to the mirror, Krystov stared, his face emotionless. For several moments, he said nothing. When he finally found his voice, he whispered, "Well, you always told me I would shame the Maridian name. I'm sure you believe that even more so now." His lips thinned in anger. "Tell me, Father . . . What does it feel like to know the fruit of your loins is now the dirt beneath your feet?" Turning, he left Darius staring after him as he exited the library.

"Justin!" he bellowed. "Return me to my home!" With an apologetic look in Darius' direction, Justin turned and trailed Krystov. Celeste followed behind them, leaving Darius once again, alone.

* * * *

Sometime later, Celeste returned to the library, carrying a mountain of books in her grasp. Darius watched her with only a minute amount of interest before sliding out of her view and into the dark floor inside the Keep. He didn't care to associate with her. She might be able to hear his voice, but that didn't mean he was obligated to become her friend.

As he sat there sulking, he could hear her moving about the library, the pages of some book turning noisily as her fingers were no doubt moving over the Braille. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall of the room behind the mirror. The room was actually quite vast, but held nothing, save a fireplace, within it. He'd tried a few times to work some kind of Magic to at least make it livable. A bed might have been nice. A few books, perhaps. A bottle of vodka would be grand! He wasn't picky, but damn! No self respecting Maridian slept on a floor!

He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice when the dark room began to glow with a strange light. Standing back up, he looked around, watching as bookshelves began to line the walls. Dropping his jaw, Darius moved to see what Celeste was doing.

She was standing in the middle of the room, Spell Weaver in hand, eyes closed as she whispered a spell under her breath. As he watched, he saw what she was doing was making his prison into a mirror image of her library. The room he was in looked exactly like the room she was in. He moved to a bookshelf and pulled out a book, flipping anxiously through the pages. They were readable! Thanks be to the gods to have delivered him into the home of such a capable witch. If not for the fact she had impure blood, he could easily have promised to kiss her, had a way existed.

"Mr. Maridian?" her voice called him softly.

Moving to the glass, he looked at her reflection on the other side. "Yes, Miss Swansong?"

She bit her bottom lip for a moment, drawing his eyes to her mouth for a trice before he looked back into her unseeing eyes. "I don't know for certain, but I assumed you have been without any comfort in that mirror. I wish what I gave you would have been your freedom, but it seems that for now, this is the best I can offer. Anything that's not living will be imaged into your room as well. I can even manage some food and drink to you now. Although, it seems you are not likely to starve without it, as you have been there as long as you have."

Darius smirked at her observation. "How astute of you. Very ingenious you are, for sure." He would not be overly kind to her. He meant her no harm, but to allow himself to be overly polite would end up putting him in the position of being her friend. And he would never befriend a Mortal-born. No matter how kind and beautiful she was.

Celeste sighed. "Very well, then. I shall leave you to your own company if you need nothing else. It's rather late, and I do have to work tomorrow." Darius lifted an eyebrow as he watched her leave. He could care less. He really had no care over her lack of sleep. It meant little to him. As he turned, he noticed a bowl of hot steaming porridge on the table before the couch, along with a hot sandwich and a bottle of wine beside it, unopened. Moving to pick it up, he studied the bottle for a moment, a smile spread across his face. Merlot. As far as wines went, it was one of his favorites. Moving back to the mirror, he called out to her. "Miss Swansong?"

At the doorway, she turned, answering, "Yes?" Battling with the git inside, he finally expelled the breath he'd been holding. Closing his eyes, he scowled before forcing the words through his lips kindly. "Thank you. Sleep well."

Celeste's face beamed as she smiled widely in his direction. Her face was transformed with that smile, taking his breath away for a moment. "You're welcome. Goodnight, Mr. Maridian." When she left the room, he stared after her. One part of him was left cursing himself while the other part of him felt indebted to her. For once in two long years, he could sleep on something besides a floor. He could enjoy a glass of wine and a meal, even if it was an humble one.

Chapter 5

Celeste lay in bed, thinking. She had tried, unsuccessfully, to get some sleep, but it was no use. Her mind kept drifting back to Darius, alone in his fate. Like so many others. Justin could not touch others with his Magical hand because it held no heat within it. Krystov was now cursed to share the fate of Mortals, whom he'd hated for most of his life. Nathaniel . . .

A rush of breath escaped her at the thought of her friend. Nathaniel had freed the world from the tyrant, The Shadow, but in freeing everyone else, he'd doomed himself to share the bastard's fate.

But, hadn't that been Nathaniel's lot in life to start with? He'd always ended up sacrificing some part of himself at every turn. He'd lost much more than he ever gained. His parents, his sister, Merlin . . . What if finally dying himself had been his reward? What if that were his happy ending?

Tears gathered in Celeste's sightless eyes. Everyone else held some hope Nathaniel would return. His body had never been discovered. From that fact, no one was ever willing to accept he might actually be dead. Not Justin. Not Krystov. Hell, not even her own mother! What was worse was that they all called her pessimistic for refusing to at least see it as a chance for his return.

The truth was Celeste often wished she'd died along with Nathaniel. She tried not to mope in self-pity, but she felt useless in her blindness. She just wished she could go to him. Her thoughts slammed to a stop as she sat there, wide eyed and breathing hard, as an idea began to form. Darius was trapped inside the mirror. There was no way for him to get out. However, there was no rule as far as she knew to keep her from visiting him. Perhaps, if she could travel into his dwelling, she might be able to find a way to trick the spell keeping him imprisoned into granting him his freedom. It was worth a try. What did they have to lose?

* * * *

He stood just beyond the mirror, gazing longingly into the world just beyond. Celeste had tried to make his stay within the mirror a more pleasant one, but all it had done was to make him long for his freedom that much more. Turning, he stomped angrily toward the sofa that waited to act as a more comfortable bed than the floor had. When he'd almost reached it, something caught his eye. The doorway that led beyond the room he now occupied appeared to have dimension and colors past it.

Was there another room he could now have access to? Was it possible? Moving hesitantly, he peaked slowly through to the other room. It was Celeste's entrance hall. There was a mirror on the wall above the table in the hallway. Stunned by the sudden knowledge he was now able to walk through to another room, Darius stepped hesitantly forward. His eyes darted each way. He waited for some dark shadow to attack. He found he was not only able to walk to the entryway, but also up the stairs.

His heart pounded as he walked down the hall and up the stairs. It was as though he was in an actual house and no longer trapped inside the mirror. He found only one door at the end of the corridor. He assumed that must mean it was the only room that had a mirror within. Moving to stand before the door, he took a deep breath. Was it possible this was Miss Swansong's room? Slowly, he reached out and opened the door. The room was dark, but he could make out a large bed on the far side with a small nightstand beside it.

Walking into the room, he moved toward the mirror that hung on the far wall. As he stood before it, he found himself staring at the young woman who slept on the bed. She had kicked the covers off and was curled up on one side.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Darius," he scolded. "Looking at a scantily clad witch who is as young as your son." He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud until Celeste raised up cautiously. "Mr. Maridian?" Her voice was soft and even a little shaky. Don't answer her! He thought to himself frantically. Just turn and leave! Pretend you never wandered in here! Despite the warning in his head, he answered softly. "I'm sorry to wake you, Miss Swansong. Your spell seems to have an intriguing side effect." He watched as she nodded. "Actually, I was quite hoping the spell would allow you access to the other rooms within the house that had mirrors." She shrugged. "I just hadn't considered your ventures this evening would bring you to my room."

Darius gritted his teeth when the witch rose from her bed and moved across the floor to stand before the mirror. His eyes were round as he stared openly at her beauty in the blue lace and satin nightgown. Did she not realize how alluring she looked in it? He felt his groin tightening as he stared at the pebbled nipples that seemed to beckon him.

Clearing his throat, he spoke in a voice that was strained to his own ears. "I must apologize, Miss Swansong. I . . . it hadn't occurred to me this was your room," he lied, straight-faced. It wouldn't do for her to know the truth. "I shall leave you now to your rest."

As he turned to make his way from the mirrored room, her voice stilled him. "You don't have to leave. I wasn't sleeping . . . and honestly, I'd really rather not be alone right now anyway."

Turning back to look at her, he moved closer and saw tears had recently fallen from her eyes. The shimmering evidence was still on her cheeks. Cautiously he asked, "Why have you been crying, Miss Swansong? Is there something wrong?"

"No." She answered all too quickly, then released the breath she'd been holding and turned away from him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Maridian. You have enough problems of your own without listening to my sad stories." She shook her head and moved to grab her wrapper.

He watched, mesmerized at how well she knew her way around the room in her prison of darkness. He nodded his head and said, "Ah . . . I think I understand. You're feeling useless because of your lost eyesight." He clicked his tongue. Even though he had an unspoken respect for her, his pride refused to allow her to know of his admiration. "That is indeed selfish of you. You at least have your life . . . your Spell Weaver. Poor Jameson; only Merlin knows what became of him. And Krystov . . ."

His voice failed him as he watched her slip to the floor before the mirror in a sobbing heap. Suddenly Darius was severely ashamed of himself. She had been a gracious hostess to him. She'd even freed him from being imprisoned in only the one room. In time, she would probably free him from this accursed mirror. He knew if anyone could, it was she.

Moving to put his hand on the mirror, he spoke softly, "Miss Swansong, please stop this. You know I was only being a cruel prat. You really mustn't allow yourself to be hurt by someone like me. I'm not even worthy of the hospitality you've so kindly chosen to show me." Even as he spoke the words, he felt irritated with himself for being concerned over her pain. It never would have bothered him before, he reminded himself with a scowl.

Celeste sniffed for a moment, then stood, moving back to the mirror, to face him, even though her eyes couldn't see him. With a sigh, she reached toward the mirror, saying softly, "Thanks for that . . . You didn't have to apologize. I know it had to be hard for you to do, but I thank you anyway." At that moment, she wished that she could have just disappeared inside that mirror with him. Perhaps then, she could forget how miserable and truly useless she did feel. Darius stared at her hand pressed against the glass. Longing vibrated within his soul. It seemed an eternity had passed since he had felt the touch of another person. His own hand trembled as he reached toward the spot where her hand was imprinted. He found himself wishing for a way to have her join him within the mirror. If only for a small amount of time.

For a moment their fingers touched only the glass, but then, Celeste was falling into his arms as the mirror between them simply ceased to exist. Baffled, Darius clasped her to him in order to keep her from falling to the floor.

For what seemed an eternity, they simply stood holding to one another. Celeste held onto him as her eyes moved rapidly from one spot to the next, looking around frantically before she focused her eyes on his. In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I can see."

Darius smiled at her and slowly put her at an arm's distance from him before answering, "Congratulations. You now seemed to be trapped inside the mirror as well as I am." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Will your new-found eyesight see a way to get us out of this?"

Chapter 6

Celeste stared into the steel gray eyes that looked back into hers, even as he set her away from him, backing away from her. Slowly, she released her hold on him as well, and looked in shock around the room. For all intents and purposes, it looked like she would have imagined her room would look. The furniture was placed exactly as she had it memorized to be.

Her breath caught in her throat as she turned her attention to the mirror. That was the one thing that was different. The mirror looked the same as the one on her wall, but it had an almost unreal quality to it. This one had a faint glow that alerted the person gazing at it that it was charmed. "This isn't happening," she whispered softly as she moved to stand before the mirror. Hesitantly, she raised her hand to touch the glass and stared at her reflection. "It can't be."

Darius watched Celeste with an almost sympathetic expression in his eyes. "If it's a dream, Miss Swansong," he paused, searching for words, "then it is a shared one." His own frustration at his imprisonment within the mirror was dulled by the realization the woman before him was indeed trapped within the same mirror now.

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