Seven Times A Charm

Lexander did not tell anyone about the mirror.

For the next three hours, he tried to convince himself that it had been exhaustion.

A trick of the light.

A consequence of nearly collapsing beneath the weight of memories belonging to a man who was apparently him, but not him.

There were several explanations.

None of them explained why his reflection had smiled.

So he kept his mouth shut.

It was a skill he had developed during his father’s reign.

Unfortunately, he had never been particularly good at it.

“You’re hiding something.”

Lexander looked up.

Lysandra stood in the doorway of his chambers with her arms folded.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been staring at that mirror for ten minutes.”

Lexander immediately turned away from it.

“I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“The wall.”

“The wall?”

“Yes.”

Lysandra entered the room.

“What about it?”

“It was very wall-like.”

She stopped.

Lexander stared ahead.

Lysandra stared at him.

“Brother.”

“Hmm?”

“I am going to hit you.”

“You would never strike the future king.”

“I see no kings here.”

Lexander smiled despite himself.

His sister approached the table where he had been sitting.

Maps were scattered across its surface.

So were several books.

Lysandra picked one up.

“The First Grave.”

Lexander’s smile faded.

Io had sent the books shortly after returning to her own quarters.

Old records.

Fragments of religious texts.

Maps that had been copied so many times that even the ink appeared tired.

The First Grave was mentioned in almost none of them.

And when it was—

The descriptions were contradictory.

One claimed it was an ancient burial site.

Another described a temple.

A third called it a prison.

Lysandra read over his shoulder.

“So.”

Lexander leaned back.

“So?”

“We’re going.”

He looked at her.

“No.”

Lysandra blinked.

“No?”

“You’re fourteen.”

“And?”

“And absolutely not.”

“Brother.”

“Lysandra.”

She narrowed her eyes.

He stared back.

Neither moved.

Finally, Lysandra pointed at the map.

“You are going into a mysterious mountain where something ancient is apparently waiting to murder you.”

“That is an unnecessarily dramatic way to describe it.”

“It drowned a man on dry land.”

Lexander paused.

“Fine.”

She continued.

“You have already died seven times.”

“Apparently.”

“And now you remember at least some of those deaths.”

“Yes.”

“And you believe I am staying behind?”

Lexander opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Lysandra smiled triumphantly.

Then the door opened.

Both of them turned.

Queen Lisbeth entered.

“You’re both staying behind.”

Lysandra’s smile vanished.

Lexander almost laughed.

Almost.

“Mother.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Mother.”

“No.”

Lysandra looked toward Lexander.

“Help me.”

He raised both hands.

“I am learning from experience.”

Lisbeth approached the table.

She studied the maps.

“The First Grave.”

Lexander’s expression became serious.

“Yes.”

“I have heard of it.”

Both siblings looked at her.

Lysandra blinked.

“What?”

Lisbeth glanced toward them.

“Your grandmother told me stories.”

Lexander frowned.

“You never mentioned it.”

“Because I thought they were stories.”

She pulled one of the old books toward herself.

“Every royal family has them.”

She opened the worn cover.

“Secret tombs.”

“Ancient curses.”

“Hidden gods.”

Lysandra smiled.

“I like those stories.”

“Of course you do.”

Lisbeth turned a page.

“But there was one thing my mother always said.”

Her expression changed.

“Never follow the seven circles.”

The room became silent.

Lexander slowly looked toward the silver pendant resting on the table.

Seven circles.

Each connected to the next.

Lysandra noticed it too.

“Mother.”

Lisbeth touched the symbol.

Her hand trembled.

“My mother called it the Mark of Returning.”

Lexander leaned forward.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Lisbeth’s voice was quiet.

“She died before she could explain.”

The words hung heavily between them.

Finally, Lexander stood.

“Then we have to go.”

Lisbeth looked at him.

Her face hardened.

“And that is precisely why you are not going.”

“Mother—”

“I have spent the last three weeks believing you were going to die.”

Lexander stopped.

Lisbeth took a breath.

“I watched your father imprison you.”

Her voice trembled.

“I was powerless to stop him.”

Lexander lowered his gaze.

“I watched an army surround this city.”

She stepped closer.

“And yesterday, you offered your life to save ours.”

Her hands moved to his face.

“I will not stand here and watch you march willingly toward another death.”

For once—

Lexander had no joke.

No clever response.

Nothing.

Lysandra slowly placed a hand on their mother’s shoulder.

“Mother.”

Lisbeth closed her eyes.

“He always comes back.”

The words escaped her before she could stop them.

Lexander frowned.

“What?”

Lisbeth opened her eyes.

For a moment, she looked confused.

“I…”

She stepped backward.

Lysandra stared.

“Mother?”

Lisbeth looked toward the mirror.

The same mirror Lexander had been avoiding.

Her reflection stared back.

Then Lisbeth whispered—

“He always comes back.”

The room became cold.

Lexander moved immediately.

“Mother.”

She blinked.

The cold disappeared.

Lisbeth looked around.

“What happened?”

Neither sibling answered.

Lexander walked toward the mirror.

Slowly.

Carefully.

His reflection watched him.

Perfectly.

Normally.

He raised his hand.

The reflection did the same.

Nothing.

Lexander looked back at his mother.

“You said you’ve never heard of the Cycle.”

“I haven’t.”

“You said something.”

“What?”

Lexander hesitated.

Then he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

Lisbeth looked unconvinced.

But before she could press further—

Someone knocked.

Three sharp knocks.

The door opened.

Queen Io entered without waiting.

Lisbeth immediately raised an eyebrow.

“You could knock.”

“I did.”

“And wait.”

“I was worried you would say no.”

“I was going to.”

Io smiled.

“Then I made the correct decision.”

Lisbeth stared at her.

Io turned toward Lexander.

“We leave at dawn.”

Lisbeth’s expression hardened.

“No.”

Io stopped.

“No?”

“My son is not going.”

Lexander immediately looked toward Io.

Please help.

Io looked between them.

Then—

“She’s right.”

Lexander stared at her.

Lysandra covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

“You’re enjoying this.”

Lexander accused.

“A little.”

Io folded her arms.

“You should not go.”

“Excuse me?”

Io stepped closer.

“Something is trying to make you remember.”

Lexander’s humor disappeared.

“And something is trying to kill people.”

“Yes.”

“Because of me.”

“We don’t know that.”

“You said—”

“I said I don’t know.”

Her voice became sharp.

Everyone fell silent.

Io took a breath.

Then continued more quietly.

“I lost you seven times.”

Lexander’s expression softened.

“I am not eager to give whatever is hunting us an eighth opportunity.”

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Lexander looked down.

“I understand.”

Io blinked.

He continued.

“But I’m going.”

“Lexander.”

“No.”

He looked at his mother.

Then at Io.

“You have both spent the last day trying to protect me.”

Lysandra raised a finger.

“Three of us.”

Lexander pointed at her.

“Quiet.”

She lowered her finger.

He turned back toward Io.

“If the First Grave has answers, I need them.”

“You might die.”

Lexander smiled weakly.

“Apparently I’m quite experienced.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I know.”

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