We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Mirror of Beasts by Alexandra Bracken, a young adult fantasy novel publishing with from Knopf Books for Young Readers on July 30th.
With the dream of Avalon in ruins, Tamsin and her friends are all that stands in the way of Lord Death’s plans to unleash the horrors of Anwnn on the world of the living. As the Wild Hunt carves a bloody path across continents, Tamsin is mustering allies, tracking down powerful artifacts, and traversing into new otherlands in search of a way to stop him.
Legend tells of a “Mirror of Beasts,” powerful enough to trap even Lord Death in its accursed glass, but the mirror is not all that it seems. Tamsin must confront her own darkest secrets if she hopes to tap the mirror’s strength to defeat her enemies.
From the author:
In this scene, Tamsin and her friends find themselves the captives of three deliciously wicked sorceresses, and they’re forced to confront the painful consequences of the events at the end of the first book. Even more surprising to Tamsin, however, is who comes to save them. I had so much fun with this scene (Sorry, Tamsin!) and loved planting some seeds here that grow into dark blooms later in the book.
“Marvelous,” one said, and I recognized the voice belonging to Acacia. “You’re finally awake.”
Her face was like white velvet beneath the braided crown of her pale hair, and the flawlessness of her beauty set her apart as something other, something to fear, because it could only be a lure. And her eyes… they were spiteful as they assessed us, before turning to her companion. “I told you it wouldn’t be much longer, Hestia.”
Hestia revealed herself to be the wiry one with tan skin and a slightly pinched expression as she declared, “Best to start with the one that doesn’t have magic.”
The cuffs around my wrists fell away, and in a rare moment of composure, I scrambled back on clumsy limbs, colliding with a soft form behind me—Neve.
“How quickly courage flees when their master is not there to protect them,” the nameless one said. Her pale blue eyes were rimmed with heavy plum liner the same shade as her knotted hair.
“M-Master?” I croaked. “Hang on, what are you talking about?”
“Listen,” Neve began, sounding entirely too reasonable for the situation we were in. “There’s clearly been some sort of misunderstanding—” A hot band of pressure locked around my waist and yanked me back toward the stone bars of our cell. I bit my tongue painfully, blood exploding in my mouth as Acacia spun her hands in a mocking show of reeling me in. The small spike slipped from my fingers as I tried in vain to drive my heels down to fight the pull of magic.
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The Mirror of Beasts
“Stop this!” Olwen pulled against her manacles. “We’re not your enemies!”
“Is that so?” Acacia flicked her wrist, and I was flung like a doll up against the bars. Stars burst behind my eyes as my temple collided with the rock. Magic shoved at me from behind, and my ribs screamed in protest.
“Release her!” Caitriona roared.
“Please!” Olwen begged. “We were coming to find the Council of Sistren, to warn you about Lord Death!”
“Warn us?” Plum Hair grated out. “Warn us of what, precisely? That resisting his demand was futile? As if slaughtering five of our sistren weren’t message enough!”
“We were—we—” Each word I spoke only increased the pressure from behind. I wondered, fleetingly, how much force my body could withstand before it was crushed against the stone bars.
Caitriona let out a noise of pure rage, trying to rip her hands from the restraints.
“You led him directly to Stellamaris last night—admit it!” Acacia snarled.
Despite the pain ratcheting through my body, my mind latched onto that name. The Sorceress Stellamaris lived on the outskirts of Boston. Cabell and I had done a recovery job for her, retrieving her mother’s ring from another sorceress’s tomb. She had been—pleasant wasn’t the right word, and neither was harmless. She had been… uncomplicated to deal with.
The storm. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that the city experienced a freak blizzard the same night she was killed.
“We ought to rip every last detail about their master from their minds,” Plum Hair said. “Surely the Council won’t punish us if we get what they’re after?”
“What are you talking about?” Neve asked, beyond agitated.
“Unmakers of worlds,” Hestia sneered. “The four servants of Death, maidens of winter—the others may dress you up in pretty names, but we know what you are. We know the rot in your hearts.”
“We do not serve Death!” Caitriona raged. “We are his sworn enemies!”
At that, all three women laughed riotously. And through the pain, through terror, all I could imagine was kicking them into the nearest curse sigil.
“I’m one of you!” Neve cried. “I’m a sorceress! They’re—they’re priestesses of Avalon! We tried to stop Lord Death, not help him!”
The last of the air left my lungs as the force of Acacia’s magic drove harder against my back, threatening to snap my ribs, my spine. My vision darkened at the edges as I struggled to draw in even a shallow breath.
“Your fork-tongued lies mean nothing to us,” Hestia said. “There wasn’t a soul alive in Avalon when your master compelled you to destroy it.”
“We were trying to save the isle,” Olwen said, pleading. “We thought the ritual would purify it—it was a mistake!”
She began to hum, a shaky, desperate sound, to summon a spell.
Neve joined her, her voice breaking with her sobbing breath.
The sorceresses only laughed, the flickering lantern light deepening the harsh lines of their faces.
“Singing spells? How quaint,” Acacia said. “Your cell is warded against the use of magic. Try it again and you’ll certainly be carrying your friend home in pieces.”
“It was a mistake! All of it!” Neve swore in desperation.
“More lies,” Plum Hair sang. She glanced toward Acacia, enjoying the show.
“Tell us what your master is after,” Acacia demanded. “And why he wants it by the winter solstice.”
“We don’t know what you’re talking about!” Caitriona thundered. “They must truly hate their friend to wish her dead,” Hestia said. “I don’t know about you, sistren, but I would be all too glad to avenge the mortals who perished at Glastonbury. The ones slaughtered as you unmade the boundary and brought hell raining down upon this world.” The agony finally overcame me like a tide, ripping through the last bit of strength I had. I cried out, hot tears streaking my face. My limbs, my skin, strained against the stone, stretching painfully, threatening to tear.
“Stop!”
Blue-white light erupted through the cell with Neve’s shattering cry, incinerating the darkness with its unbridled intensity.
The sorceresses stumbled back, flinging their arms over their faces to shield their eyes. The light produced no heat, but it radiated a dizzying pressure with each shuddering breath Neve took.
“You said you blocked their magic!” Hestia shrieked.
“I did!” Acacia shrieked back.
The pressure crushing me against the bars released and I hit the ground hard, gasping. My fingers clawed at the rough stone as I tried to steady my galloping heart.
“Tamsin?” Olwen called out. “Are you all right?”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t speak just yet. As the light retreated, it cast the cell back into a deeper darkness. I blinked against the spots floating in my vision, and even then, I wondered if I was imagining it—the way the magic seemed to linger on Neve’s skin like a dusting of stars before it winked out entirely.
My breath was stilted, burning in my aching chest. At the sound of the sorceresses’ steps shuffling forward, I curled down into myself, my entire body bracing for more pain.
“What… are you?” Acacia ground out. The three sorceresses were unharmed, but their hair was flying loose, their long robes and gowns askew, as if they’d barely come through a windstorm.
“I told you,” Neve said, the pleading note back in her voice. She pulled against her restraints, trying to sit up. “I’m one of you.”
“That was not the Mother’s magic,” Hestia said, breathless. “That was not our magic.”
“It must be his,” came the third. “Death magic. The power of Annwn.”
“No!” Neve said, pleading. “It’s not! I—it’s—”
Hestia turned her back to us, lowering her voice to a mere whisper. For the first time, she sounded uncertain as she spoke to the others. “Do we kill her?”
I rolled onto my stomach, fear roiling in my gut. Caitriona slammed her back against the stone bars, as if she could break them with sheer will.
“Try it,” she warned, the words brimming with lethal promise. “What is that dull old saying? It’s better to beg forgiveness than seek permission?” Ice shot through my veins as Acacia’s gaze fixed on Neve. “I think it best we kill them all.”
Then, through the veil of terror descending over the vault, came the knock.
It wasn’t a timid sound so much as polite. I thought I’d imagined it until it came again, louder and more insistent.
The sorceresses looked to one another.
“Were you expecting someone?” Acacia asked the others. “If it’s one of the Council—” the nameless one began.
“Well, go and see to it, then,” Acacia said, waving a dismissive hand in her sistren’s direction.
“Me?” Hestia complained. “Why do I have to do everything?” There was a third knock.
“Fine, I’ll do it myself,” Acacia groused, the skirt of her sapphire-blue dress whirling with her. “If any of them so much as whimper, break every bone in their bodies.”
My pulse thundered in my ears as I forced myself to sit up.
“Ah-ah,” Hestia tutted. “Stay where you are.”
“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Neve whispered.
“Then you’re worse than traitors to the Goddess,” Hestia said. “You’re fools.”
Moments later, Acacia’s shuffling steps returned, her black cloak flaring out behind her with the force of her fury.
Hestia arched a thin brow. “Who was it?”
Acacia shoved a rumpled piece of parchment against her chest, then turned to glare at us, indecision passing over her face. Hestia’s eyes widened as she read it. Plum Hair ripped it out of her hands to read it herself, then turned to someone I couldn’t see.
“This cannot be real,” Plum Hair murmured. “This is a trick.”
“Are you willing to bet on that? Because I’m always up for a friendly wager,” said a voice from behind Acacia.
Every inch of my skin prickled with sudden awareness.
The shadowed figure stepped out from behind her into the floating lantern’s light.
“I wouldn’t stake your life on it, though,” Emrys said.
Excerpted from The Mirror of Beasts, copyright © 2024 by Alexandra Bracken.
