A Dream of Fate & Flesh (Courts of Malice #2)

22. Is This Fate?

twenty-two

Is This Fate?

Alessia

H esitantly, I enter the cave. It stretches out before me—one long tunnel. Small prickles of light seep in from holes in the cave overhead, reflecting off the stone and illuminating my path. My heart thuds violently in my chest, and I swear I can hear it banging on my ribs.

After what feels like endless walking, something glints up ahead. I pick up my pace, soon finding myself at a dead end. Sunlight seeps in through an opening in the ceiling, and immediately, I realize why Ez said we had to wait until daybreak.

The tunnel empties into a round cavern, with sparkling ice-like crystals covering the craggy walls and ceiling. I squint against the brightness, catching my reflection squinting back at me from the opposite side of the cave. The stunningly reflective beauty is almost unbearable to witness.

“Hello?” I whisper, my voice unsure.

Straight ahead, my reflection stares back at me in the crystal wall. Cautiously, I pull the hood back from my face, staring at my pale eyes and freckled face. The jagged lightning bolt tattoo pulls attention away from my features, forever marking me as a Tradeling. My hair has extra volume, the curls whipped and knotted from the wind and adventures .

Glancing around, I try to figure out what I’m supposed to do. When I catch my reflection to the left, I gasp.

It’s me, but… different…

My reflection wears a luxurious navy gown. When I finger my pants—my dagger—my reflection does the same with her dress. My fingers trace my tattoo—the one missing from my reflection—and the girl staring back mimics the motion.

My heart hammers in my chest. If it weren’t for the same grey eyes and soft freckles, I might not even recognize the girl staring back at me. It’s uncanny, but it’s me. I know it.

Turning back toward the first reflection I saw, I exhale in relief to see my actual presence mirrored back—ink and all.

When I glance to the right, I’m again greeted by another unfamiliar reflection. Unsettled, I take myself in. This time, my face is marred with scars. I wear the leathers and confidence of a warrior, and my hair is tied back from my face. There’s a wicked gleam in my sharp, grey eyes, and it’s so unlike the softness I usually find in my reflection.

“What is this?” I murmur, gently touching my face. The reflection does the same. My fingers graze mostly smooth skin, with only a few tiny bumps. It’s nothing like the textured skin of my alternate appearance.

“Who are you?” I study the reflections individually, trying to determine if it’s genuinely me or some trick. But they each follow every movement with genuine ease, like looking in an ordinary mirror. “Are you all… me?”

Carefully navigating the rugged rocks underfoot, I step closer to my actual image.

Is this what Ez meant about seeing the various threads of fate ?

I reach out, gently touching the surface. My fingers meet the cool hardness—it feels like wet stone. A shock of warmth zips through my fingertips, spreading through my veins as it travels up my arm.

With a gasp, I pull away.

All three of the crystal walls grow cloudy, obscuring my images.

It only lasts a short moment, then the fogginess dissipates.

This time, a young girl is reflected back at me. Her wide, curious, grey eyes practically overpower her face, as she hasn’t yet grown into them. She can’t be more than a few years old.

I can’t be more than a few years old.

Again, it’s an innate, inexplicable recognition, but I know it’s me.

This time, however, instead of being a direct reflection, it plays out like a memory.

I’m frozen in awe and confusion as I watch the scene unfold. The little girl giggles, revealing a row of baby teeth. Two figures materialize beside her. A stocky brunette man with warm brown eyes and freckles pats her on the head, wearing a look of adoration. He doesn’t appear much older than I currently am now. A tall, curvy woman stands beside him. Her lips tilt up in a grin as she watches the two interact. Her features have a certain sharpness, but it’s a keenness rather than a cruelness. It’s a type of assertiveness I’ve never seen the women of Dovenak possess.

I’ve only seen that type of self-confidence in the fae—within Sennah, Viveka, and some other females around the courts.

Sucking in a deep breath, I step closer to the reflection, analyzing it carefully. The woman’s hair is the same color as mine, curling around her shoulders. Her pale eyes soften as she reaches down, scooping the little girl up into her arms and bopping her on the nose.

I can almost feel the loving warmth of her embrace, like the ghost of a distant memory.

Is this real?

I don’t remember it.

If this truly reflects my past, my parents loved me. They seem so kind, so normal, and so happy.

My throat thickens, and I swallow the heaviness, trying not to let the scene’s emotions overwhelm me. This could be a faerie trick. I can’t let it distract me or keep me from my ultimate goal: freeing Rainer.

I can process this later.

Turning to one of the other walls, I catch my regular reflection peering back. I exhale in relief before turning to the final wall.

My breath exits in a whoosh as I lock eyes with a much older woman. She gives me an eye-crinkling smile, her wizened skin creasing even deeper. She looks like she’s spent far too much time in this life, yet is hesitant to leave it behind—a woman who has lived for much and still has much to live for.

A figure materializes next to her, and she turns, giving them her attention. It appears to be a male, but his face is obscured by shadow. He reaches out a gloved hand, and I realize the woman—the elder me—accepts it. He pulls her tight to his chest. The pair sways tenderly, gliding around the room with their attention glued to one another.

My chest swells with an odd sense of comfort.

This is why she appears so content. She does have much to live for, and she has true love.

I’m suddenly overcome with such beautiful, vibrant endearment that it knocks the air from my lungs. It feels so natural, as if my future is promised to me—longevity, love, and contentment.

Tears flood my eyes, and I must blink them to clear my vision.

One last time, I whirl toward the crystal reflecting my parents. I commit their faces to memory for a few final moments. Even if it’s not them, it gives me a bit of closure—something to hang on to.

I was wanted.

I was loved.

I was happy .

Then, following my gut, I stride up to the accurate depiction of me as I am in the present. Like I did with the first round of reflections, I gently brush the crystal.

Once again, the images grow hazy, as if there’s a fog trapped beneath the reflective surface.

When the fog clears, there’s a figure standing next to me.

I jolt, bumping into someone. A scream of surprise lodges in my throat, and I nearly tumble backward in an attempt to move away from them.

A dark cloak conceals their features, falling around their feet and skimming the floor. My eyes dart toward each of the three mirrored walls, wondering if this is another illusion.

The present moment is reflected black in all.

My entire body buzzes with awareness and curiosity, yet the longer I study the figure, the less fear I feel. There's something oddly familiar about their presence, but I can't name it.

Is this Fate?