A vast chamber stretched before them, impossibly wide, with a pool of black glass at the center. Around it stood monoliths carved with runes none of them had ever seen, but all of them recognized. The language of dreams. The language of the island.
Rose stepped forward, her hand brushing over one of the stones. "It knows us now. It speaks in our skin."
Jude stepped beside her, the others forming a silent circle around the black pool. "What is this place?"
Zoey stared into the water. "A mirror."
Lucy looked at her. "A mirror to what?"
"Our hearts," Grace said softly. "Our fears. Our love."
Jude stepped to the edge, peering into the inky surface. At first, he saw only his reflection - tired, marked by passion, eyes glowing faintly gold. Then the image shifted.
Twelve women. All of them. Around him. Behind him. Inside him.
Not just wives.
Not just lovers.
Pieces of him.
He gasped softly, stumbling back.