The mirror lay shattered in a dozen jagged arcs across Camille's floor.
The wind outside had stopped.
Magnolia stood frozen just inside the threshold, her eyes darting from the blood on Camille's forehead to the shards of glass that pulsed faintly with residual light. Elara stood over her, murmuring a binding incantation under her breath, her fingers drawing runes in the air with a faint trail of green fire.
Camille blinked slowly.
"I saw the end," she whispered again.
Magnolia stepped closer. "What do you mean? What kind of end?"
Camille's lips parted, then pressed shut again.
Elara's head snapped toward Magnolia. "She's still in trance. Don't question her yet."
"She's not some ritual token," Magnolia snapped. "She's my sister."
"She's something else now," Elara said coldly. "You both are."
Camille swayed where she sat.
Magnolia dropped to her knees beside her. "Camille, I'm here."
Camille looked at her.
And smiled.
But it wasn't her smile.
