Chapter 15: Lucas - Bound to Ruin

“Lucas…”

Tori’s voice has a gentle echo as if we’re in a long, empty corridor. Yet, there’s a horror in the moment. The pieces of the fractured mirror are scattered, jumbling the parts of her face like a puzzle needing to be pieced together. The shard that cut me reveals a tear dripping down her cheek, tinged red from my blood.

“Tor!” I shove off the tub and nearly throw Valen over the edge in the process. I grab him, my gaze tearing away from Tori’s shattered pieces to make sure he’s okay. His hand covers mine, his eyes wide and chest pumping. I turn back to the mirror to find it reflecting the black marble of the bathroom once more.

We stay like that, clutching each other and hardly believing what we saw was real. “You saw that, right?”

Valen doesn’t answer. He keeps staring at the pieces of the mirror.

“V?” I shake his arm. “Valen!”

He blinks, turning to me.

I point to the mirror. “Tori was in that mirror, right? She said my name?” When he doesn’t say anything, my tone pitches high. “For fuck’s sake, Valen, I need you to answer me. Am I going crazy or did you see that too?”

Valen shakes himself, his now-unkept hair shifting with the movement. “Yes.” He clears his throat. “Yes. I saw. And… heard.”

“How is that possible?”

Valen’s eyes close. His chest expands and slowly falls. When his eyes open, that impassive mask he’s so good at slips in place. He swirls his fingers towards the mirror. The shattered glass gathers and floats over to a corner. He takes the still-running spray and rinses his body off efficiently before handing it to me. “Clean yourself. I’ll be right back.”

I take the nozzle. “Where are you going?”

He steps out of the tub and summons two towels over. He sets one for me on his abandoned stool before roughly drying himself off with his. “To my room. I won’t take long.”

He leaves swiftly. A pressure builds in my chest and I swallow it down. I quickly rinse the evidence of our… I draw a blank. “Lovemaking” sounds very wrong, but “fucking” seems too disconnected. My neck prickles with the memory of his gentle kisses, and I miss the feel of him lying on me as I came down from the lingering bliss.

Tori was here. Valen saw her. It helps me refocus, and I soap myself up before washing the suds away. By the time I’m clean and rubbing the water off me, Valen has returned. He’s put on a fresh pair of slacks and a white shirt, but didn’t bother buttoning it. It leaves his chest exposed, and my gaze lingers on his lithe muscles.

He twirls a thin, black stick between his long fingers and holds a book in front of his face with his other hand.

“What’s that?” I ask while securing the towel around my hips.

“My mother left me her personal library before she fled.” He manages to flip the page one-handed, and I try not to appear too impressed.

“Are those the books in your room?” I perch on the stool, bracing for soreness but finding none. Damn, he is good. I wasn’t even that well prepped. Or maybe I was that desperate for him.

“Yes. Mirrors have a long history with weavers. The priesthood used them in all sorts of rituals, and they’re one of the few relics still in use today.”

“I’m shocked the Order does anything that the priesthood used to.”

“I can assure you that the list is very short. The old temple within the Archweaver estate is the last priesthood structure left standing within the Astrum Forest. The sacred mirror within is how Alvius Androclaria ascended to become the first Archweaver. All Archweavers and Heirs that followed have used it for their Ascensions.”

“So they couldn’t get rid of the mirror despite it showing how they’re all hypocritical assholes?”

The corner of Valen’s tight mouth twitches, his cold eyes shifting with a flicker of warmth. “I’ve yet to hear it put that way, but yes.”

His throat works, and he stops scanning the page, staring unmoving at the book instead. Silence stretches before he asks in a calm tone, “Is this the first time you’ve seen Astoria in a mirror?”

“I think I’ve seen flashes of her here and there, but I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me.”

My eyes narrow at how he takes another slow, deep breath and nods. “You alright?” I ask.

His jaw flickers. “Quite.” And he steps up to the large, floor-length mirror with the gilded roses around it. The black stick in his hand is some sort of ink stick, and he uses it to draw a series of runes along the edge of the glass.

Finally, he pockets the stick and holds his hand out to me. “Come.”

I roll my eyes. “Listen, I was being cute earlier with the dog thing, but it’s going to get old fast.”

“And yet you still don’t know how to obey. Come here.” He flicks his fingers in emphasis.

With a sigh, I push off the stool and cross the room to stand beside him. My skin twitches when his icy fingers touch me. He gently guides me before the mirror. He stands behind me, his eyes as cold as his touch. “Place your palms flat on the mirror.”

I obey, and he scans the runes he drew on the glass. “Now listen very carefully and do nothing until I finish detailing your instructions. You’re going to activate your rings⁠—”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my magic?”

“Let me finish.” His snap echoes in the marble. I arch a brow at his reflection, and he squeezes his eyes closed, his head tilting, before he opens them. All emotion is wiped clean from his expression and voice once again. “The amount of magic must be kept to a minimum so the risk of further damage is low. You need a tiny spark at most, just enough for the mirror to reflect your rings’ light for a single moment. Then you can stop, and the runes will take over. Start as small as you can.”

I meet his gaze in the mirror, and my brows draw together. If he’s so worried, why is he not activating it instead of me? Judging by his blank expression, the perfect Bauer heir mask, I’m guessing asking will just antagonize him instead of providing any real answers. I’ll wait to ask.

“Just a spark…” I mumble, inspecting my rings pressed against the glass surface. My fingers tap the mirror before I summon the smallest flicker of my magic I can. So much of my magic is subconscious and instinctual that it’s not as easy as I thought. The first attempt has only two rings flashing, the second about half. At the third, all ten blaze bright with a small sting that I hide from Valen, and the runes burn from matte black to the same glittering gold as my threads.

Darkness forms in the corners of the mirror, swirling darker and thicker until it consumes our reflections. I half expect the tendrils to seep out and wrap around my ankles, but the darkness remains contained within the mirror.

Valen’s whisper tickles my neck. “Say her name.”

I wet my lips and say clearly, “Astoria Rose Androclaria.”

My heart pounds, searching the swirling mist desperately for a hint of copper or flash of green. But nothing happens.

I chew my tongue, mind spinning. The memory of Tori finally confiding in me about her past and true identity comes to me. “Never call me that again.”

I search the mist and try in a firmer, louder tone that I would use if we were back in Peripetia and I was hunting for her in the towering stacks. “Torment!”

My voice echoes, but it’s not the usual echo I would expect from yelling in a marble bathroom. It compounds, growing louder and louder. The mist ripples like a smooth lake surface. I hold my breath, desperately searching.

Warmth brushes my hands. My fingers twitch and my eyes widen, heart thumping. The mist shifts and Tori steps forth as if she’s stepping from the marina’s thick fog, tendrils of the smoke clinging to her. Her hands press flat against mine, the glass warming as if her physical body is just on the other side instead of a reflection of her soul. I choke on the surging emotion. Her ripped-open chest begins to knit back together, each rib snapping down with a crack, but Tori doesn’t seem to notice. Her bright green eyes search me desperately, her full lips parting. “You survived.” A tear slips free, and her softly echoing, ringing voice breaks, a sharp discordance like cracking glass intensifying it. “I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

I sniff, my eyes burning. “Fuck, Tor. Don’t ever leave me behind again.”

She laughs through her tears. “I wish I could keep that promise.” She rests her forehead against her side of the mirror. “But even more than that, I wish I could hold you. I’m so sorry, Lucas. You almost died again trying to save me. Please be careful. I don’t think I can handle the pain if anything else happens.”

“I’ll never stop trying to save you.” I step forward too, the heat of Valen’s body against my back disappearing as my forehead rests against hers. “I miss you, Tor. I’d sell my soul to have you back.”

“Careful making that claim to a mirror.” Her breath huffs, misting the glass on her side. “I’ve missed you too.”

I breathe through this aching pain, my head throbbing from the building pressure in my eyes. My hands tremble when I push them harder against the mirror, half hoping it will swallow me whole and we’ll be together again.

Tori leans back with a sniffle, her eyes glistening and smile wide. “You made it to Valen.”

“Yeah. I did. Can you see him?” I look over my shoulder and go still. Valen resembles a statue more than his usual self. His face still holds the perfectly smooth mask in place, and his hands hide within his pockets. He doesn’t look at me, his blue eyes glued to Tori’s reflection.

“Yeah, I see him.” I turn back to Tor, and she glares playfully at Valen. “I’m not sure if I should be relieved that you’re both whole and alive or furious that you had sex without me.”

I choke on a laugh. “You would be mad that you weren’t included.”

“Uh, yeah! I’m stuck inside Jinx. I’d much rather be having sex in a bathtub.”

I startle. “Did you say inside Jinx?”

She shrugs, and the last chunk of her sternum snaps in place. Her chest is whole again, her skin buttery smooth, but there is a thick, black line that runs down her body. It makes it look like she was ripped in half down the middle and glued back together. “She said my soul needs to heal from the damage and trauma of being imprisoned in the statue.”

She pauses, her eyes locking with mine. My heart pounds, her gaze shifting to something soft and sad. Her voice trembles. “I just want you to know… that is… Lucas… I…” She swallows and gasps, “I meant it. The thing I said after you and Jinx pulled my soul free. I meant every word.”

I suck in breath, my chest jolting with a painful joy. “I know.”

“Lucas—”

I shake my head. “Don’t say it while you’re in there. Tell me again once we get you out and I can hold you.”

Her laugh is broken, and she sniffles. “Okay. I will.”

We stay like that, hands pressed together as if a window merely separates us. A painful ache builds, and I swallow to try to ease the sensation. My thumb slides over hers, my gaze softening.

But something tugs at me, a thought that hasn’t quite taken form. Slowly, I tear my gaze from Tori to glance behind me. Valen is still the same, an unmoving statue of a man. His blue eyes are vacant as if he’s retreated deep within himself.

Dread fills me, a cold sweat clinging to my practically naked body. Bile presses against the back of my throat, nearly silencing me, but I can’t let it. I have to ask.

“V… did Vincentius come back today?”

Valen blinks, and my heart thuds against my ribs. Something changes in his gaze, but it’s such a tiny flicker of emotion that I can’t decipher it. He doesn’t look at me, and I count the seconds before he replies in a deadpan tone, “He did not, seeing as he’s dead in Astoria’s basement.”

My breath sucks in, my eyes flaring. Before I can register the pain that fills my chest with a haunting of my own lost loved ones, the heat against my hands disappears. I turn quickly back to Tori. She has stumbled back into the mist, her outline barely visible except for her glowing green eyes. They’re wide and move as if she heaves in breath. The line on her chest begins to weep.

I turn back to Valen, who stares at Astoria vacantly. Frost mists along the walls, and I shiver when the sweat on me begins to freeze. I whip back and forth between them, stuck between two difficult choices on who to comfort in this awful moment. Any second now, Tori is going to flee into the darkness, or be cleaved in half. I can practically feel her panic pulsing through the mirror. But Valen. I don’t know him well enough to figure out what he will do, and that terrifies me.

What I really need is for Astoria to say something, anything, that will help him. But she’s too lost in her terror.

These damn weavers and their inability to apologize are going to send me to an early grave. I turn back to Tori and stare at her with a building intensity. I tap a finger against the glass, and it snaps her wide, terrified gaze to me. My eyes flare meaningfully. Come on, Tor. You know what you need to do. Grow a pair and do it before the window to fix things between the three of us closes.

She’s trembling, and the mist shivers with it. She gasps for breath before she finally speaks in a small tone that softens my expression. “I… I…” My thumb strokes the glass, and she shifts a tiny step closer. “I was on my way to tell you about… everything. But Alasdair appeared before I got a chance.”

She takes a steadying breath and finally says, “I’m sorry, Valen. For all my wrong choices and for Vincentius. I know how much you loved him. I didn’t want him to die like that.”

My lips quirk in a small smile. That’s my Torment. Takes her a minute, but she eventually gets there. Tori’s gaze meets mine, and the fear that shines there sends prickles up my spine. Slowly, I turn away from her. Valen remains unmoved, but his chest is still, like he can’t breathe.

His voice is too controlled when he says, “You saw his ring.”

I frown, darting glances between the two of them. What ring? The mist nearly swallows her whole, but she manages a soft, “Yes.”

A vibration through Valen’s frame is my only clue to his rising temper before he snaps, “And yet you didn’t tell me immediately.”

Suddenly, the events from that terrible night click into place. My eyes close, my lips thinning. A small broken sound comes from Tori following my poorly hidden disappointment. I release my breath in a rush. My heart aches, but I try to bridge the expanding gap between them. “She was scared, V.”

Valen’s glowing eyes remain locked on Tori. “Scared of what?” My lips part, but Valen cuts me off. “I am not interested in your excuses for her. I’m asking Astoria. What were you afraid of?”

There’s no way Tor is going to stay and answer. She’s going to run, and everything will fall apart.

But she surprises me when her broken voice echoes. “The corruption from my curse is still within me. There are dark spots in my memory. At the time, I wasn’t sure if I’d killed Vincentius or if it was someone else.”

Valen is silent as he takes this in. I can practically see him comparing this information to the story I told him upon my arrival. His eyes narrow, his voice dangerously slow. “Were you afraid of your own mind, or of my reaction?”

I turn to Tori. Only her eyes are visible in the mirror. Finally, she admits, “Both.”

Valen exhales as if he was punched. He steps back. “You think I could hurt you? You, my love? Do you think me so cruel after everything?”

Her eyes shine when she says, “If I killed your father in such a way? Yes, if not for revenge, then to end my corrupted suffering.”

Raw pain flickers over his face, straining his voice. “You still believe only the worst of me, that you’d be so afraid that I would strike you down when I would never lay a hand on you. It sickens me to even consider it.”

Her voice grows stronger and louder with her surging emotions. “You asked for the truth, and I gave it to you. For the love of the Weave, Valen, for a single moment think about what it was like for me. What if you discovered Lucas dead and could no longer trust your own mind? Wouldn’t you be afraid? Because I was terrified.”

The silence stretches, and I study Valen’s face. There’s a tension within him, a fear that sucks what little color is left in his complexion.

Tori furiously wipes at her eyes and says, “I really was on my way to tell you, Valen. I’m not lying even though you believe the worst in me. I just needed a moment to catch my breath before doing it.”

My heart pounds as I count the seconds. Valen is stiff, his eyes too wide. The smallest of twitches shifts his head, the muscles in his jaw flicking like a buzzing gnat is circling him. What I wouldn’t give to look into his mind.

“Perhaps,” is the only thing he says. I’ve never seen anyone so far away while physically being a few steps back. It reminds me of when I learned of my grandma’s passing. I was so lost, so in pain.

My two hands flex against the mirror before I stretch my right arm out to Valen. He’s just barely within reach, and my fingers glide down his crisp white shirtsleeve before sliding into his slacks pocket. My fingers slip between his and it forces him to shift closer. I withdraw our clutched hands and say in a low, harsh whisper filled with so much surging agony as flashes of my mother and grandmother’s dead bodies threaten to break what is left of my spirit, “I’m so sorry for your loss, V.”

He blinks, then his glowing eyes meet mine. Slowly, life returns to the vacant expression. It’s so subtle that I doubt I would’ve noticed if I wasn’t inspecting him so carefully. The corners of his eyes tighten, and his fingers curl over my hand to return my grip. The smallest of tremors ripples down him.

I want to pull him into my arms. If I let go of his hand, he might leave, and something tells me that I’ll never repair the damage done by that one small act if he walks out that door.

Valen’s gaze sweeps me and his mask cracks. “You don’t have to keep touching the mirror. She won’t disappear until she wills it.”

“Thank fuck, because this was getting awkward.” I let go of the mirror and drag him into my arms. He’s so stiff in my hold, but I don’t care. I use my height against him and, slowly, his muscles release and his face tips down to hide in my neck. My hand slides up to tangle in his short hair. “What do you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

His exhale tickles my neck, and he breathes in gulps of me. A warmth floods my chest and I tighten my arms around him. His arms shift, and his hands rest on my hips, twitching like he’s not sure he can return my embrace. I glide my hand up and down his back before slipping under his shirt to press against his slowly reheating skin. His breath catches, and his shoulders loosen to lean into me.

Then all that softness vanishes when Tori’s voice echoes from the mirror. “He needs to go to Vincentius’ body before the spell preserving it fades.”

Valen’s chest expands against me. There’s the smallest of strain to his tone when he says, “The Magistrate is waiting for more magician reinforcements to arrive in order to control the bookshop. We have a small window to get to the basement before that.”

Tori gasps, her hands flattening on her chest, as if unconsciously trying to pull herself back together. It draws both of our attention back to her. The mist thickens, dimming the glow of her eyes. “How… how is Peripetia?”

Valen and I exchange looks.

Our silence makes it worse, and Tori’s hands tremble. “The shop is still standing? We can rebuild it?”

A muscle in Valen’s jaw flicks, and my lips thin in understanding. I turn back to Tori and take this burden head-on. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. The shop is a mess, Tor. The grimoires are running wild, and the Magistrate has all the evidence he needs to prove that we’re the grimoire smugglers.”

Her eyes glisten, the whites visible around her irises. That dark line tearing her in half pulses and begins to grow. My stomach drops. She’s not going to understand. She’s going to either dig in or break down.

Valen sighs so softly that the only reason I’m aware of it is because of my arm around him. His voice is calm, steady, even gentle despite how tight his body is. “One step at a time, my love. We need to get you free of Antonia’s statue and ensure Alasdair is put down before facing anything else.”

Astoria meets Valen’s gaze. The air is so heavy that it’s nearly unbearable. Grief and turmoil swirl behind Valen’s eyes, but his face softens ever so slightly. Astoria’s breath hitches, and she bows her head. I wish I could hold her, my heart aching with the urge to reach through the mirror and pull her close.

The mist circles her in a comforting embrace. Tori arches into it with a small whimper. She nods as if agreeing with something. Then with a rough shake, she straightens. The dark line running down her body begins to thin again when she says, “Okay, yes. You’re right. Nothing matters while Alasdair still lives.”

The mist fully retreats from her, and her image is clear once again. My breath stops. There are scars all over Tori’s chest from where she had ruptured open and healed back that weren’t there moments before. My hand tightens on Valen, and he shifts in silent confirmation that he sees it, too. I don’t know much about souls, but whatever is happening can’t be good.

Tori’s breathing speeds. “First things first, Valen has to get to the basement and burn the body to ensure Vincentius’ soul passes safely to the Tapestry.”

Valen’s small shiver releases some of the tension within his frame. I keep my arm firmly wrapped around him in case he begins to sag.

The scars on Tori’s chest weep blood, her gaze far off and unfocused. “Alasdair… he’s too powerful, but if Valen claims his inheritance when Vincentius is put to rest, then you could stand a chance.”

“You’ll be okay waiting? You’re safe?” I search Tori desperately. The blood drips down her body in long rivulets.

Tori nods, but it’s more of a sporadic bobbing. “Jinx is hiding us in the Weave while I recover. I’ve been asleep, but something woke me. Which is good. Now I can help you. I’ll follow you in the bookshop through mirrors to make sure you’re okay.”

Valen snorts inelegantly. “Absolutely not.”

Tori’s gaze sharpens to glare at Valen, and the blood stops seeping. It’s so like her usual self that I nearly slump into Valen. She plants her fists on her cocked hips. “And why not?”

Valen’s eyes narrow. “Because you’re in a mirror, Astoria.”

“I could help you!”

“How? You’ll obsessively dictate the entire bookshop break-in.”

“No, I won’t⁠—”

Valen cuts her off. “And what happens when there’s no reflection for you to watch from? Do you expect us to carry a mirror into a battle with deadly grimoires?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’ll be fine!”

Valen sweeps his hand over her reflection. “Look at yourself and be reasonable for once. You’re clearly not recovered. Your soul has been weakened by Alasdair. You’re at risk of ripping apart at the smallest of worries.”

She glances down and does a double-take. She touches the blood and rubs it between her thumb and index finger slowly. A whispering that wasn’t audible before builds in the swirls, Tori’s head tilting as she listens. Goosebumps ripple over my tightening skin, the hair along my arms and neck lifting. Valen’s lips brush my ear. “Jinx is speaking to her.”

I relax minutely. Whatever Jinx is saying doesn’t sway Tori. She stares blankly to the side, her hands running up and down her biceps. She looks so lost, so small in the mist. My heart cracks. My strong, self-reliant Torment.

I grimace, bracing for the argument to follow. “I’m sorry, Tor, but you’re going to need to sit this one out.”

Tori gasps. “Do not side with him!”

I let go of Valen to hold my hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m not siding with anything other than the voice of reason. If Jinx thinks you need to rest to survive, then the best thing you can do is listen. That’s kind of her whole point of existing.”

Her face pinches, and I can practically read the mutinous plans written across her face. But I have a few cards up my sleeve. I smirk and sweep my gaze over her. “Besides, we’ll need you ready to rip out of that statue like a demon out of the deep to tear Alasdair a new asshole. It’s going to be rough enough getting through the grimoires and then breaking the curse. We’ll need you to jump in at full strength to kill that bastard.”

Her face relaxes, and her fists unclench, but still she grumbles, “I could do both.”

“I have no doubt you could, but humor the two of us. We don’t want you to suffer. We want you to heal so we can hurry up and fix this and get to celebrating. If you don’t want to do it for my peace of mind, then do it for the incredible victory sex.”

She snorts and fights her smile. Her gaze sparkles, and that black line is as thin as a thread. “Incredible sex is the least you could do after forgetting to invite me.”

“To be fair, we didn’t know you could do this mirror thing, or it would’ve gone very differently.” I smile brightly, the weight of the day finally lifting. “Have some faith in us, Tor. We can handle this part.”

She sighs, rubbing her arms. “I don’t like it.”

“I know. We’ll be fast. Promise.”

She scans me slowly, her lips thinning and shoulders curling. Her gaze shifts to Valen. Her lips part, and he tenses, his eyes unblinking as he waits.

Her lip trembles and she whispers, “Don’t let him die, Valen. Keep him safe. Please.”

Valen’s voice drips sneering sarcasm that has both my eyes and Tori’s rolling. “Yes, keep the magician alive, the only important man in your life.”

Tori throws her arms up dramatically like he’s driving her crazy. “You know what I mean! He nearly died!”

I don’t need to have known Valen since childhood to figure out that we’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere and are now in dangerous waters. His eyes glint with a head tilt. “Do I? It’s so hard to tell.”

Shit, this is going to go from bad to worse, fast. A cold sweat tickles my spine. How the hell do I fix it without pissing off Tori or hurting Valen’s feelings? I tighten my hand on Valen’s side, ready to snatch him if he tries to storm out. I know enough from Tori not to let these sensitive bluebloods stomp away while pissed off. That’s how curses happen, and we’re still dealing with the last one.

Tori groans, head falling back. “For the love of the nonexistent arachnid gods, can you not do this now?”

Valen barks a laugh, and I rumble low, “V…”

His smile is unkind as he stares down Tori, ignoring me. “How insensitive of me to not consider your feelings.”

Tori growls, “Come on, Valen! He’s a human.”

My jaw drops. “The fuck? What does that have to do with anything?”

Tori waves her arm towards me. “Out of the two of you, Lucas is way more likely to die.”

The tension in Valen breaks, and I feel none of the relief when he laughs. His frame goes languid, his tone returning to his normal drawl. “I apologize. I was misinterpreting your words. You are correct. He is easier to kill.”

I scowl. “I’ve survived way more than both of you combined, and yes—” I point a menacing finger at Tori when her lips part to argue “—I am including your various curses. Stop talking about me like I’m a fucking house fly. The arrogance of you weavers. It’s like you purposefully forget that you are humans, too.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Both weavers snap their glowing eyes on me, and I step back when they start yelling.

“We are an entirely different species with distinctive lifespans and capabilities that your kind could never dream of achieving even with your magic thieving trinkets,” Valen snarls.

“Out of all the idiotic things you’ve said over the years, this has to be the most idiotic. It’s this, then closely followed by the time you asked if Jinx uses a litterbox.” Astoria’s voice nearly drowns out Valen’s.

I hold up my hands again. “I’m just saying. Your souls have a thread in it. The rest is all the same, right? Like, physically?”

They both point to their eyes, and I roll mine. “That doesn’t count.”

The rest of their arguments are drowned out. My ears ring as they talk over each other, the sound echoing in the marble. When they finally settle down, Valen crosses his arms and growls while glaring at me, “You may rest peacefully within Jinx. I’ll ensure our martyring human doesn’t do something idiotic and die.”

Tori glares at me too. “Great. I appreciate your sacrifice.”

I exhale harshly. At least they’re no longer mad at each other. I’ll take that win.