Free The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) by Travis Simmons

asked, and as he said these words he felt something within him separate, and another figure formed out of the substance that was before only him. Angelica’s form wavered for a moment as she came from his etheric body, and she turned to look, only to have the same warning repeated to her as her image began to fade. Jovian knew that this wavering of her etheric image meant that she was being drawn back.
    “Don’t look, only see,” they repeated as Angelica came back into vivid focus.
    And so they saw. In the blink of an eye the white light of the stars turned yellow. The glow darkened and became rougher, more abstract. The soft glow was no longer that, and before they knew it the serene starlight had vanished only to be replaced by a fire as intense in heat and vision as that of a forge.
    From within the flames images appeared … visions.
    There were three images in the fire, though they did not appear together. Instead the figures were as elusive as the Mikak’e. Three figures, seemingly shadows in the licking flames: one small, two large. Indeed the two larger ones appeared to be human—women.
    Between the two women the fire parted. From within it emerged a large metal disk attached to a silver chain which floated on the heat of the fire. Before long the medallion was rotating and they could see with startling lucidity each and every line and crack in it. The way the edges were studded with metal spokes, like a small wheel; the way the center was set with an oval lapis stone, and even the intricate carvings along the edges. Three circles adorned the medallion, one encircling the Lapis, the other two framing the carvings in a larger circle at the rim of the disk. Light lavender lines of power slithered like lightning across this empty space in the center.
    As the crackling wyrd crossed the surface, they felt a stabbing pain in their palms. The pain was barely noticeable at first, starting out as a dull throb, but then, slowly, it increased in intensity as the hissing wyrd increased.
    In unison Jovian and Angelica both cried out as the pain lanced up their arms causing the most discomfort in their wrists where the bones felt pinched together. The sensation of needles pricked their palms, tendons tore in their wrists, and sharp, irregular bursts of throbbing pain shot up their arms.
    As soon as the pain had come it vanished, taking with it the image of the medallion in the flames.
    When the medallion had completely vanished, the other two forms began to take shape. After having just been shown their family medallion, they weren’t surprised to see the two female forms were their sisters.
    Joya was dressed in a grand, lacey black gown like she would have worn back at the plantation. The fire did not seem to touch the flared skirts, nor the gathered fabric of the bustle. A large fan was clasped in one gloved hand, and the other hand gripped tightly to Amber’s white gloved one.
    Amber was the exact opposite of Joya, dressed in the same type of gown barely held up by lace straps clinging to her milky shoulders. Her yellow eyes showed none of the malaise they had in the Foothills of Nependier, and her hair was clean, a beautiful, intricate pile of honey locks on her head held in place by diamond pins. The two sisters truly were complete opposites of one another, even down to their hairstyles. In Amber’s opposite hand she clutched a white fan identical to Joya’s black.
    The two sisters smiled, but the movement of their mouths did not stop there. Angelica and Jovian felt an intense love for them that went far beyond that of siblings, daughters, they heard from somewhere deep inside their minds. They didn’t have time to examine the source of the voice because a horrific change was happening in the flames.
    The first screams of pain issued from Amber and Joya’s mouths; Angelica and Jovian reached for each other’s hands, tears peeking out from their eyes as they watched, helplessly. The flames caught on the lacey