Koorgan swung off his mount and angrily strode through the palace. He gripped the mirror in his fist. He’d tried to use it a dozen times since Edmond had brought it to him on the docks to no avail.
He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the tower where Ashure was being held. The Pirate King was sitting on the bed with his feet propped up in the chair. The bastard had the nerve to grin at him when he stopped in front of the iron lattice-work door.
Ashure sighed and stood up. He walked over to the door and leaned against it with a slight smirk. Koorgan’s fingers curled into a fist. He held out the mirror.
“How does it work?” Koorgan demanded.
Ashure shifted from one foot to the other and grimaced. “Well, you see, that is where there might be a slight problem,” he responded wit
