Not sure how long I sit in the wooden chair by the library window. At some point, Dex strides back into the room and pauses.
“I scent your fear and anger,” he says simply.
“Lady R appeared to me in a mirror.”
Dex isn’t the only one who can scent a change in the air. The tang of sweat and vinegar—that’s worry and rage—fills my senses. The truth appears in my mind. Lady R contacted me with mirrors from the Prism Master. And I know my old jailer. He’d never allow Lady R to rifle through his precious collection alone.
Which means the Prism Master was using mirrors, too.
I rush over to Dex. “The Prism Master opened a mirror to you in the attic.”
Dex nods. “He says he’ll attack tomorrow at midnight.”
A jolt of alarm runs down my back. “The Prism Master is trying to lull us into a false s
