Chapter 825 Mirror Of Fate

• By now, Annabeth was used to it. After all, no one had perfected the art of glaring at her quite like Ninette.
• "I'm not exaggerating—our craft devours us," Moira rasped. "We age faster than ordinary people, and our lives are cut short." Look at this face!" She snatched a small mirror from her cloak, thrusting the reflection toward Annabeth. Loose skin quivered like torn cloth. "Do you realize I'm only thirty? Two years—that's all the time I have left!"
• Her emotions carried her close enough that every crevice in that prematurely aged face was impossible to ignore. Annabeth met the sight without a flicker, her eyes cool as winter glass.