The Price of Riches

Harper hit the floor of her dingy apartment with the force of a car crash.

She rolled across the warped linoleum, slamming into the kitchen cabinets. Above her, the antique mirror on the counter exploded in a shower of dull, non-magical glass, the portal severing completely.

For a long time, there was only silence.

The familiar smell of damp plaster and old ramen filled her lungs. Outside, the rain continued to beat against the single, dirty window.

Harper lay on the floor, her chest heaving, her body bruised and battered. She slowly uncurled her arms.

Resting in her lap was the diamond.

It was no longer glowing with parasitic magic. In the dull, flickering light of the fluorescent kitchen bulb, it was simply a diamond. But it was the size of a man’s fist. It was flawless. It was worth millions. Tens of millions.

Harper began to laugh. It was a broken, hysterical sound that bordered on a sob. She had done it. She had survived the Alternate Universe, she had beaten the monsters, and she had stolen the ultimate prize.

The medical bills on the table meant nothing now. She could buy the hospital. She could buy a mansion of her own—a real one, built of brick and mortar, not parasitic magic. She had won.

She slowly pushed herself off the floor, her joints aching. She walked over to the kitchen window, looking out at the bleak, rain-soaked city. She was going to leave this place tomorrow and never look back.

Harper looked at her reflection in the dark, rain-streaked glass of the window.

She paused.

Her face was pale, smeared with dirt and dried blood. But her eyes...

Harper leaned closer to the glass, her breath fogging the pane.

Her eyes were no longer the color of storm clouds. They were a bright, unnatural, luminous gold. They pulsed with a faint, familiar magic.

A chill shot down Harper’s spine, colder than the Siphoning Vault. The diamond in her hand suddenly felt incredibly heavy.

She remembered Dorian's words. *The magic is a parasite.* She had disrupted the altar, but she had been bound to it. The siphoning had begun. The magic had touched her soul.

Slowly, the temperature in the cramped kitchen plummeted. The smell of damp plaster was suddenly overpowered by the sharp, metallic scent of ozone.

Harper didn't turn around. She kept her eyes fixed on the reflection in the window.

Standing in the dark corner of her kitchen, right beside the refrigerator, the shadows began to detach themselves from the wall. They writhed and coalesced, forming the shape of a man in a livery. He had no face. He was made entirely of dense, black smoke.

The shadow-servant bowed silently to her reflection.

Harper stood frozen, clutching the massive diamond to her chest. She had escaped the Gilded Estate, and she had secured the unimaginable riches she had always wanted. But as the golden light pulsed in her own eyes, she realized the horrifying truth.

She hadn't just stolen the gold. She had become the new heir.

And the curse had followed her home.