We had to go. Now. Piaras was going with us. We had no choice and neither did he. The Khrynsani had earplugs, and the monsters didn’t have any ears. Piaras had Sarad Nukpana’s sword fighting skills, but he didn’t have the battlemagic skills to survive this. Though I didn’t know what would be worse: to stay here with the goblins and the rapidly growing mini-monsters, or dive through that mirror to possibly be ambushed by Sarad Nukpana and his sadistic Khrynsani.

Both sucked. Both were unavoidable. Choose one or the other; there wasn’t a third option.

Prince Chigaru’s two bodyguards put themselves between the prince and the Khrynsani. One guard took a crossbow bolt to the chest that’d been meant for Chigaru.

The other was poised to plunge a dagger into his prince.

I drew breath to scream a warning. I needn’t have bothered.

Imala saw the bodyguard move.

She moved faster.

The goblin never knew what hit him, and died staring at his prince, dagger still raised to strike, confusion in his dying eyes.

“Jabari? No!” Chigaru screamed in disbelief and denial.

Betrayal was contagious as hell today.

Another bolt came out of nowhere.

Carnades spun to face it as if he had eyes in the back of his head. A nimbus of glittering frost formed in front of this hand, deflecting the bolt and sending it slamming into the chest of the goblin who’d fired it.

The shooter wasn’t aiming at Carnades.

He was aiming at the mirror. Our mirror.

More Khrynsani crossbows were raised, all with one target—a mirror they were hell-bent on shattering.

Mychael stood back-to-back with Carnades, shielding the elf mage while he worked frantically to stabilize the mirror.

Tam shoved Imala and Chigaru through the mirror, and all but threw Piaras toward it.

Mychael didn’t turn and look; he knew I was still there. “Go!” he screamed.