Married To Darkness

The woman paused, fingers trembling briefly before she tied off the necklace. "You speak of things best left forgotten," she said, not unkindly. "But if you must ask... talk to the glassmaker. Milligan. His booth’s the one with the lanterns shaped like moons."

Lucius rejoined them just as Salviana pointed it out — a crooked little stand at the edge of the boardwalk, where colored glass swung in the breeze, catching sunlight and bending it.

They approached.

The glassmaker was a man with ink-stained fingers and one cloudy eye. "Looking for something?" he asked, as though he already knew.

"A mirror," Salviana said gently. "One that’s been touched by the sea. Looked into by something more than human."

Milligan leaned back in his stool, regarding her. "You’re not the first to ask. But you’re the first with eyes like that." He tapped his temple. "Divine blood. You’ll see more than you want to, you’ll find that mirror."

Lucius stepped forward. "Do you have it?"

"I had it," Milligan replied. "Traded it to a collector who didn’t know what it was. Said it gave him nightmares." He scratched his beard. "Lives past the cliffs. Name’s Devon. Bit mad. Builds cages for birds that can’t fly."

Alaric groaned. "Of course he does."

Salviana’s eyes gleamed. "Then that’s where we go."

Lucius nodded, and as they turned from the harbor, the scent of salt and sunlight clung to them — like a memory too old to forget.