Jacks shot out of his chair and left the room to fetch more water.
Elantine coughed, a final crackling sound. Then her expression focused. She looked at Tella with clear, cunning eyes. When she spoke her voice was different as well; she was no longer the cooing empress who doted over Jacks. Her tone was sharp as a lion’s tooth.
“Lie to me,” Elantine said, “and I’ll have you tossed from this room before Jacks returns. Or tell me the truth and find yourself with a powerful ally. Now, answer quickly: What are you doing with that vicious young man who wants my throne?”
Tella’s throat went suddenly dry. Her first instinct was to believe this was a test from Jacks, but then her thoughts flashed back to when Elantine had asked how Jacks planned to kill her. She’d claimed to only be joking, but the question had not sounded as if it was merely meant for fun.
“You’re running out of time,” Elantine snapped.
“He’s holding my mother prisoner,” Tella confessed. It wasn’t that she trusted Elantine, but any woman who could rule an Empire by herself for fifty years had to be shrewder than a fox, which hopefully meant she genuinely saw through Jacks. “Until my mother is free I won’t be free of Jacks either.”
Elantine flattened her mouth into a sharp line.
Tella’s pulse ratcheted up.
But before the empress could respond, Jacks reentered the room and handed her a goblet of water.
“Thank you, my dear boy.” Elantine brought the water to her lips, but Tella would have sworn Elantine didn’t sip from it. She distracted Jacks by saying, “I was just telling your lovely bride to be that I want her to join us on Elantine’s Eve to watch the fireworks from the top of this tower.”
Tella didn’t remember much of what happened after that. Jacks and Elantine continued conversing, but Tella barely heard a word they said. She couldn’t stop thinking about the play, about the Fates she’d met outside Idyllwild Castle, and what she’d be dooming both Legend and the Empire to if she won the game and gave Legend over to Jacks.
*
Upon returning to her suite, Tella pulled out the Aracle.
The image was unclear until she imagined winning the game and handing over Legend to Jacks as she’d promised. Instantly the image sharpened to a scene with Tella and her sister and their mother, all happy and hugging. A picture too good to be true. Perhaps it was.
For years Tella had trusted the Aracle without question. But if the real Aracle was trapped inside this card, wouldn’t it show Tella whatever it needed to so that she would help it escape?
NIGHT FIVE
OF CARAVAL
31
At first it seemed there were no stars. From below, the sky looked like a sparkling mirror of black. But from above, for one brief moment inside of her sky carriage, Tella could see the heavens were not all dark. A thin outline of white stars glittered in the shape of a heart. It encompassed most of Valenda, shining fairy-dust-thin light on the edges of the ancient city, hinting at bewitchment and spells and childhood dreams.
Tella leaned closer to the carriage window. Even with the incandescent starshine, it was too dark to clearly spy the people below. But she pictured those still playing the game rushing through the streets. No one had said anything directly to her, but Tella had overheard a few maids discussing how disgruntled everyone was that Elantine had cancelled night four of Caraval.
With her life dependent on the outcome of the game, Tella hadn’t wanted to miss out on a night of play either. But her body had greedily taken the rest. After Elantine’s dinner, Tella had slept and slept and slept. She’d half expected to wake covered in blood pouring from her eyes. But either Jacks had given her a reprieve, or the blood Dante and Julian had fed Tella was still working to counteract Jacks’s murderous kiss.
Unfortunately, she was not completely uncursed. Her heart once again beat slower than it should have.
Beat … beat.
Nothing.
Beat … beat.
Nothing.
Beat … beat.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Tella clutched at her chest and cursed Jacks. The extra missed beat felt like his way of nipping at her and urging her to hurry.
As her carriage descended on the Temple District, she pulled out the third clue, which she’d copied from the back of her mother’s poster, so that it would be easier to carry.
If you’ve found this you’re on the true track, but it’s still not too late to turn back.
Clues can no longer tell you where to head; to find the object Legend needs, your heart must lead instead.
Tella was now fairly certain the object she needed to win was her mother’s cursed Deck of Destiny. She also believed it was not just a game, and that Legend really wanted this deck. But she imagined he didn’t know where it was. So, through the clue, he’d instructed Tella to follow her heart, hoping she would know where her mother had hidden the cards.
A pungent cloud of incense surrounded Tella’s coach as it landed in the Temple District. Prayers and hymns still filled the streets, but it was not nearly as busy as it had been a few nights ago. No whispers of Legend reached Tella’s ears.
She appeared to be the only player whose heart had guided her here. Though it wasn’t so much her heart leading as her mother’s fiery opal ring, which Elantine believed was some sort of key connected to the Temple of the Stars.
Tella hoped the empress was right and that if it was a key, it would unlock the secrets Tella needed in order to find her mother’s Deck of Destiny. But Tella doubted it would be that simple, and the ring’s connection to the temple made her wary.
Religions practiced in Valenda appeared to be shrines of entertainment rather than sanctuaries of faith. But Tella had heard those who worshipped at the Temple of the Stars were true believers, willing to sacrifice youth, beauty, or whatever else the stars asked of them. And though Tella didn’t know much about the stars themselves, she’d heard the ancient beings were soulless, even less human than the Fates. It made her suspicious of anyone willing to join their congregation.
She tightened the rope at her waist, which held in place the flimsy sheath she’d asked a palace servant to procure. To gain entrance to the Temple of the Stars, she needed to look like an acolyte, docile and compliant, and dress in a horrid acolyte’s sheath.
She shivered at the wind slicing between her legs. Tella had never been modest but she felt as if she were only wearing a split sheet, held together by a knot tied at her shoulder and a braided cord around her waist. The cord dragged on the ground with her every step. Completely unflattering, and difficult to run in.
And everything about the Temple of the Stars made her want to turn and flee in the opposite direction.
Massive wings perched atop the temple’s domed roof, glowing as bright as fresh flames, and yet for all their magnificence, no one lingered outside of the temple’s great entrance. Perhaps that’s why there were so many statues littering its wide moonstone steps, giving the impression of visitors and life. Though anyone who looked at these sculptures up close would never have mistaken them for humans.
Thick and tall as temple columns, the men possessed muscled arms as large as tree trunks, while the women had been given overflowing breasts and eyes made of aquamarines. Tella imagined they were supposed to be the stars. They might have been beautiful, if she hadn’t also noticed the other statues. The smaller, thinner ones, on their knees before the stars. Disturbingly real and lifelike. Burning torches cast fireweed-red light on the human statues, on the beads of sweat at their temples and the calluses on their hands. Their feet were all bare, and some hunched in submission while others held out their arms, offering up swaddled babes or toddling children.