“It only needs a little alcohol.” Julian swaggered past the sleeping participants and into the tavern, though Scarlett swore he was still only half himself. His boots scraped the glass floor with an uneven gait as he went behind the bar and poured half a bottle of clear liquor over his cheek.
“See”—Julian winced, shaking his head, making drops of liquid fall to the floor—“not as bad as it looks.”
A line still went from near the corner of his eye to the edge of his jaw. It wasn’t as deep as Scarlett thought, yet she could not ignore the ill feeling she had.
Amid all that had happened she’d lost track of time, but she imagined the sun would set in about two hours, welcoming the final night of the game.
To win, Scarlett needed to find her sister before anyone else. And after what she’d just done to the count—not only had she knocked him out, she’d tied him to the bed before leaving—Scarlett could all too clearly imagine how furious her father would be when he woke, and the malicious punishments he would inflict on Tella if he found her before Scarlett. He wouldn’t just kill her; he’d torture her first.
“When I was in the room, I forgot to look at the roses,” Scarlett said.
Julian took a swig of the bottle before putting it away. “You’re the one who said they were all over Caraval.”
Meaning it would be impossible to figure out which roses were actually clues. There were probably hundreds of roses she’d never seen as well. The first clue she’d received said: And number five requires a leap of faith. But Scarlett had no idea how that connected to the flowers. Too many roses and not enough time.
“Crimson, don’t fall apart on me now.”
Scarlett looked up and Julian was in front of her, drawing her close before she could say the words “I’m not.” Though she imagined if Julian were to release her, she would. Fall to the floor. Then fall through it. Fall and fall—
He kissed her, parting her lips with his own until all she could taste or think about was him. He tasted like midnight and wind, and shades of rich brown and light blue. Colors that made her feel safe and guarded.
“It’s going to be all right,” Julian murmured, and he pressed his lips to her forehead.
Now she was tumbling for altogether different reasons. Sinking into a feeling of security that she’d never known before. As Julian’s lips stayed pressed to her temple, his arms wrapped around her as if he wanted to protect her—not possess her or control her. He wouldn’t let her crumble. He wouldn’t toss her from a balcony as Legend had done in her dream.
“Julian.” Scarlett looked up abruptly, as the words from the clue, leap of faith, suddenly ricocheted through her thoughts.
“What’s wrong?” Julian asked.
“I need to ask you something about your sister.”
Julian stiffened.
“I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t important, but I think it might help us find Tella.”
“Go ahead,” he said, and despite the shuttered look on his face, his voice was soft. “Ask whatever you want.”
“I’ve heard about your sister’s death, but the accounts were conflicting. Could you tell me how she actually died?”
Julian took a deep breath. Obviously the subject made him uncomfortable, but he said, “After Legend rejected her, Rosa leaped from a balcony to her death.”
A balcony. Not a window, as Scarlett had overheard in her dream. No wonder Julian hadn’t appeared more excited at the sight of all the balconies at the beginning of the game. They were fifty cruel reminders of what he had lost. Legend truly was monstrous, and if Scarlett was correct, he’d set this game up for a twisted repeat of history with either Scarlett or her sister. A leap of faith indeed.
With a shudder, Scarlett worried that was what it would take—that she would have to jump off a balcony to save her sister.
She kept this suspicion to herself as she told Julian of her dream involving Legend and the balcony. “I think we need to search the balconies to find our last clue.”
Julian ripped a hand through his hair. “There are dozens of them, all with different entrances. I don’t see how that is a better plan.”
“Then we should start searching now.” Expecting an argument, Scarlett went on, “I know going out during daylight is against the rules, but I don’t think Legend really abides by rules. The innkeeper said that if we didn’t make it in before daybreak after the first night we didn’t get to play, but she didn’t mention the rest of the nights.” Scarlett lowered her voice, just in case some of the people over in the hall were actually awake. “All the doors are locked so people think they can’t get out, but we can leave using the tunnels. If we go right now we can get a head start on the count and my father, and maybe we can win this game.”
“Now you’re finally thinking like a player.” Julian smiled, but it looked as flat as a line in a painting. She wondered if her fearless Julian now feared her father too, or if he dreaded the same thing Scarlett did, that to save her sister one of them would have to take a deadly leap.
32
Julian’s hand was the only thing that felt truly solid as they emerged from the tunnels and entered into a realm that appeared utterly different when lit by the late-afternoon sun.
The Caraval sky was a creamy blur of butter and vanilla swirls. It made Scarlett think the air around her should taste like sweetened milk and sugared dreams, but all she could taste was dust and haze.
“Where do you want to look first?” Julian asked.
The balconies surrounded the entire perimeter of the game. Scarlett craned her neck, searching for a glimpse of movement or anything odd on any of the nearest ones, but the blanket of mist obscured her view. On the ground, shops that looked colorful at night now appeared almost blurry. The elaborate fountains, dotting every other corner of the street, spilled no water. The world was stillness and quiet and milky fog. No colorful boats traveled canals and no other people walked on the cobbled paths.
Scarlett felt as if she’d stepped into a faded memory. As if the magical town had been abandoned long ago, and she was coming back to find nothing quite as she recalled.
“This doesn’t even look like the same place.” Scarlett walked a little closer to Julian. She’d feared that the moment they stepped outside someone would try to remove them from the game, but this strange, dull reality was almost as frightening. “I can’t see any of the balconies.”
“Let’s not focus on those, then. Maybe the leap of faith means something different,” said Julian. “You said before, you thought the clue involved roses. Does anything else here remind you of your dream with Legend?”
Scarlett’s first thought was, Legend has left this place. She saw no top hats, no rose petals, no colors brighter than palest yellow. But while her eyes were letting her down, her ears picked up a gentle melody.
Subtle. So quiet it almost sounded like a memory, but as Scarlett moved forward with Julian, the soft music grew into something more solid and soulful. It hummed from the street with the rose-covered carousel, the only spot not infected with fog. She remembered it was also one of the few things that had remained in color when her world had turned to black-and-white.
Brighter than freshly spilled blood, the carousel appeared even more alive than when Scarlett had seen it last. It was so vibrant, she almost didn’t notice the man sitting at the pipe organ beside it. He was far older than most of the other workers she’d come across, and his face was wrinkled and weatherworn, and a little bit sad, mirroring his music. He stopped playing as Scarlett and Julian approached, but the echoes of his song still hung in the air like lingering perfume.
“Another song for a donation.” The man held out a hand and looked up at Scarlett expectantly.
It should have struck her as uncanny the first time she’d seen him that he would beg for coins in a place where people rarely used them.
Scarlett turned to Julian, not wanting to repeat the mistake she’d made at the hatter and haberdashery. “Does this feel like Legend to you?”