A Reflection of Ice by Katherine McIntyre

Author:Katherine McIntyre [McIntyre, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948121705
Publisher: Opal Moon Press

5

Lyra was stuffed by the time Moro walked her to the room. He’d delivered yet another feast he couldn’t possibly have managed to make in the time he stepped out and returned, this one consisting of a beefsteak with gravy over roasted turnips. As she expected, the saccharine taste clung to the meal, like with everything she’d eaten here thus far. They’d swapped casual conversation, and yet again he had glossed over any specifics, avoiding any more answers to the mountain of questions she’d accumulated.

Moro kept the conversation focused on the wondrous treasure room he planned on showing her tomorrow. Though she could admit curiosity, her growing sense of fear overrode any plans to stay another day. Besides, if she happened to indulge, she had the feeling he’d find some way to stall until night descended.

She hadn’t been able to leave without finishing her food after her foray into the hallway last night. He’d watched her, and when she’d tried to stop midway through, he gave polite protestation until she succumbed and finished her plate. As she’d expected, once she placed the emptied plate down on the floor, her eyes began to droop and the exhaustion crashed in. Her mounting worries turned the savory flavors stale on her tongue, churning her stomach.

When at last the door clicked shut, Lyra didn’t move until his soft footfalls echoed along the corridor. Two mirrors resided in her room—a small one by the bed stand and a long one on the far wall. She took care to remain out of sight as she headed for the bathroom.

While this wasn’t her first choice, since he’d pushed her into eating, she didn’t have another. She sank to her knees because if she waited any longer, sleep might steel her chance. The cold tile steeled her resolve. Lyra jammed two fingers down her throat and retched into the medieval style toilet.

The contents of her stomach plummeted into the porcelain as she gagged, her throat spasming in the wake of the violent heaving. If the food left her stomach, she might not be lulled to sleep. After her stomach stopped convulsing, she gripped the sides of the toilet and pushed herself up. Her legs were shaky as she made her way over to the sink, which didn’t have the obligatory mirror above, to her relief. Lyra wiped the corner of her mouth and sipped at some water to clear out the terrible taste. Whether her body had been shocked awake from heaving or her idea worked, the effects of the dinner had subsided for the time being. Her hands trembled from the effort, but she regained her mental acuity.

Night descended upon the castle, and with it came the crawling shadows and an unerring sense of caution. Lyra perched on the side of the bed, wide awake and wrestling with the one problem she had to overcome before exploring the castle: all of those damned mirrors. She glared at the one on the far wall—long, rectangular, and as tall as her, and she squeezed the sheets in frustration.

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