Chapter 20

20

CAROLINA

W e step into a colorless, mirror image of the magic room. The room that once contained vibrant jewel tones and a certain aura of warmth and comfort was now shades of grey and felt as welcoming as a morgue.

Silas warned us that walking into the Underworld would be disorienting, but I never expected this . Disorienting doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Everything feels wrong. It’s like I’m looking at a world where all the life has been drained out, leaving only hollow versions behind.

“Weird,” Camila breathes out, her fingers drifting over a table in the same place the one we use for potion-making sits. “Okay, it’s giving me the creeps; let’s just find this guy and get back.”

The sooner, the better. Every fiber of my being wants to bolt, to get out of this place and back to somewhere that doesn’t make my skin crawl.

Silas explained that doorways in the Underworld acted as a set of interconnected portals. You had to be extremely specific in where you wanted them to take you; otherwise, you could be roaming the caverns of the Underworld for eternity .

“Do you think it’ll be like the catacombs in Paris?” Camila asks, hesitating in front of the door that would usually take us to the shop.

“Lined with skulls and full of mole people living not-so-secretly under the city? Maybe.”

Camila shivers. “Thanks for that. Really . I can’t wait to open this door now…any second now…I will open this door.”

I roll my eyes and grab the doorknob. The hesitation is getting us nowhere, and I just want this over with. Bounty hunter, I think at it before yanking it open.

“Whoa,” Camila whispers when we’re pulled through the open doorway and propelled into a place far more eerie than a mirror version of our magic room.

The door we’d come through is still behind us. Its wood is a stark contrast to the rock walls it seems to be embedded in. There’s a chill in this cave-like structure. The ground beneath us is a mixture of solid earth and loose gravel that crunches under our feet.

I sense Camila’s discomfort rapidly growing with each step we take. We’re both uncomfortable, but I’m better at hiding it.

My magic wants to cast a protective barrier around us and shoot us straight back to the Mortal World. It’s screaming at me to leave, to get us out of here. Every instinct I have is telling me that we don’t belong here. Instead, I wrap my arms around myself, a shield of my own making.

The Underworld is meant to distress, according to Silas. Those who live down here are always in a constant state of unease.

I quickly realize that the feeling is not unlike holding your breath for too long underwater. Pressure on my chest and head begins to spread throughout my body. I take a deep breath, trying to shake it off, but it only makes it worse, like the very air down here wants to trap us .

Note to self: I would not recommend this place to people with claustrophobia.

A strong sense of foreboding settles over me as we travel deeper into the winding, maze-like paths of the Underworld. Every corner seems to hide a new secret, and every shadow could be a trap. Soft whispers float past my head, but I can’t understand what they’re saying—a new form of torture.

I need a distraction, and luckily, I have the perfect one. If we’re going to die down here, I might as well get this off my chest.

“I have to tell you something,” I say, cringing at how my voice seems to echo off the rock walls.

“ Now ?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me. “Can’t it wait until we’re back home? I just want to see Silas’s weirdo contact and get out of this place.”

Her face contorts warily as her eyes take in our surroundings once more. Her gaze darts between the jagged edges of the walls, and she looks over her shoulder like she senses someone following us.

“Well, we might die down here, so…” We probably wouldn’t die . Maybe just get stuck down here for the rest of our lives if anything happens to our connection to the Mortal World.

“Comforting, Caro.” She lets out a dramatic sigh when I shrug in response. “Fine, go on. It will give me something to think about other than this incessant buzzing. God , do you hear it, too?” Camila asks, pulling on her earlobe and flexing her jaw like popping it would get rid of it.

I shake my head as we carry on, letting our instincts guide our way. “The night Declan stayed over?—”

Instantly, Camila scrunches her face in disgust and holds up a hand to me. “Ew, no. I definitely don’t want to hear this, even when we’ re back home.”

Ignoring her protests, I continue, “I had a nightvision . A past life, and Declan was in it.”

In my periphery, Camila looks at me curiously. The teasing look fades from her face, replaced by genuine interest. This has her attention. “It’s not uncommon to meet people from past lives, is it?”

It’s not impossible, but statistically unlikely, to have your timelines match up with someone who could be anyone, anywhere in the world, at any time.

Abuela warned me once that it could happen but that I shouldn’t go looking for people in my visions. Something about disrupting Fate and disrupting Fate never ends well. But I didn’t go looking for Declan. He just…showed up.

Her warning was enough for me, whatever the reason. I never ventured out to find Camila, though we were sisters once before. She was pleased to find out she was the older one in that lifetime.

“Maybe not, but it’s not that he was there. It was what he said.” The words still echo in my mind, and every time I think about them, a chill runs through me.

Telling Camila about this was opening a version of Pandora’s Box. Once it was out, I’d never be able to get her to forget about it. Even so, I’ve been driving myself crazy, turning over the dream in my mind.

“Which was?” She presses when I don’t say anything right away.

I stop walking, needing a moment to gather myself before I say it out loud. “He said, ‘It’s us in every lifetime.’”

Her reaction is immediate—shock, followed quickly by excitement. She practically vibrates with it. “Oh my god. Carolina ! Do you think he’s…you know?” Her voice drops to a near-whisper, like she’s afraid saying it out loud will jinx it.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m talking to you about it.” My heart races in my chest, and the tightness I’ve been feeling since that night comes back full force. What if he is my mirror soul? What if this is real?

Despite our surroundings, Camila’s face lights up. Her joy is contagious, and for a moment, I almost let myself feel it too. Almost . If only she knew how the dream ended.

“Wow, wow, wow. My big sister found her mirror soul . God, I can’t believe it. I didn’t even know you had a soul under that thick skin.”

Ouch . But given what I’d said to her earlier, I probably deserved it.

“Camila,” I warn, turning back to our path and resuming our trek.

“Sorry, that was mean. So, what are you going to do about it? I wish Mom were here. I think Dad was her mirror soul. I mean, why else would she be with a mortal?”

Huh . I hadn’t considered that.

“I suppose that falling in love the old-fashioned mortal way won’t satisfy your weird, hopeless romantic tendencies?”

Mirror souls were Fated. Their souls were infinitely intertwined. When their timelines matched up, they always managed to find their way to each other. This bond was beyond the physical world, threading through the fabric of time itself.

I’ve spent my whole life not looking for someone like that, knowing it was unlikely I’d ever find them. Now, the possibility feels…overwhelming.

Many witches study the bonds between mirror souls . Some think that everyone has a mirror soul, but…extenuating circumstances may make it difficult to reunite in each lifetime.

Most witches don’t know when they’ve encountered their mirror soul, but it’s witches like me, gifted with the power of foresight, who can recover old memories. Locked away in a vault until initial contact has been made, once a witch with my power meets their mirror soul, they begin to uncover more and more of their memories.

Maybe that’s why I’d never been as boy crazy as Camila when we were younger. I knew if I didn’t start getting those memories when I was with someone, they weren’t meant for me.

It didn’t stop me from dating, but it did prevent me from going much further past an initial infatuation.

We begin to hear voices as we move deeper into the cavern (or at least I think we’re moving deeper into the cavern).

“Do you hear that ?” Camila asks, our movements slowing down. There’s a barrage of laughter, and we make eye contact. “Silas didn’t warn us they might be having a party.”

“Can I help you two?” A male voice from behind us freezes us in place.

Camila’s eyes close, and she lets out a breath through her nose. Then she nods lightly, and we both turn to face whoever—or whatever— has caught us.

The man in front of us has dark hair and even darker eyes. His stubble is slightly overgrown, not enough to be classified as a beard. His black shirt and pants are well-fitted to his body. There’s something familiar about him, but I can’t place it.

His eyes grow wide, and his face pales. “Camila?”

Cami’s voice is bewildered as she says, “Sam?”

The wave of recognition hits me like a wall. This is Sam, the guy who broke Camila’s heart. Shock and confusion ripple through the air, tangible as the chill that seeps from the stone walls.

“Camila, why is your ex-boyfriend hanging out in the Underworld?”