The governor and the count stopped moving, but Tella continued backing up, silver slippers sliding all the way to the edge of the balcony.
“Tella, stop!” Scarlett fought to free herself from the rope, beads breaking off her dress as she thrashed against the chair. This couldn’t be happening. Not after watching Julian die. She couldn’t lose Tella like this. “You’re getting too close to the edge!”
“It’s a little late for that.” Tella laughed, a brittle sound, as breakable as she looked. Scarlett wanted to run to her, to grab hold of her where she tottered on the balcony’s rim. But the rope wasn’t loose enough yet. Her ankles had managed to kick free, but her arms were still bound. Only the stars watched in sympathy as she rocked back and forth, hoping that if she knocked over the chair she’d smash one of its arms and finally break loose.
“Donatella, it’s all right,” her father said, almost tenderly. “You can still come home with me. I’ll forgive you. Both you and your sister.”
“You expect me to believe that?!” Tella exploded. “You’re a liar, and worse than he is!” She pointed a shaky finger at Legend. “All of you are liars!”
“Tella, I’m not.” With a crash Scarlett’s chair hit the floor, one of its arms splintering, so that she could finally crawl out of the ropes and start for the ledge.
“Stay back, Scar!” Tella moved one foot so her heel was over the rim.
Scarlett froze.
“Tella, please—” Scarlett took another tentative step, but when Tella wobbled, she froze again, terrified one false move would push her sister over the very edge she so badly wanted to rescue her from.
“Please, trust me.” Scarlett held out a hand. No longer stained in blood, she hoped she could save Tella in the way she hadn’t been able to save Julian in the tunnels. “I will find a way to take care of you. I love you so much.”
“Oh, Scar,” Tella said. Tears streamed down her pink cheeks. “I love you, too. And I wish I was strong like you. Strong enough to hope it could be better, but I can’t do this anymore.” Tella’s hazel eyes met Scarlett’s, as sad as fresh-cut wood. Then she closed them, as if Tella couldn’t bear to look at her. “I meant it when I said I’d rather die at the edge of the world than live a miserable life on Trisda. I’m so sorry.”
With trembling fingers, Tella blew her sister a kiss.
“Don’t—”
Tella stepped off the edge of the balcony.
“No!” Scarlett wailed, watching as her sister plummeted into the night.
With no wings to fly her down, she fell to her death.
38
Scarlett would only remember fragments and pieces of what happened next. She would not remember how Tella had looked like a doll, knocked from a very high shelf, until the blood started pooling around her.
Even then Scarlett couldn’t look away from her sister’s lifeless body. She just kept wishing. Wishing Tella would move. Wishing Tella would get up and walk. Wishing for a clock that could turn back time and give Scarlett one last chance to save her.
Scarlett remembered the time-twisting pocket watch she’d seen her first day there. If only Julian had stolen that watch instead.
But Julian was dead too.
Scarlett choked on a sob. She’d lost both of them. Scarlett cried until her eyes and her chest and parts of her body she didn’t know could hurt began to ache.
The count stepped closer, as if to offer some form of consolation.
“Stop.” Scarlett held out a shaking hand. “Please.” She choked on the word, but she couldn’t bear anyone’s comfort, especially not his.
“Scarlett,” said her father. He approached her as the count backed away. Or rather, her father shuffled. Hunched over, as if an invisible pack were tied to his back, and for the first time Scarlett didn’t see a monster but rather just a sad, old bully. She saw how his fair hair had grayed at the edges, and his eyes were shot with blood. A dragon with no fire and broken wings. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” Scarlett cut him off; he deserved this. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t ever want to hear your voice, and I don’t want you to try to ease your conscience by apologizing. You brought this about. You drove her to this place.”
“I was just trying to protect you.” Governor Dragna’s nostrils flared. His wings might have been broken but he still had his flames after all. “If you’d listened to me, rather than always being such a disobedient, ungrateful wretch of a—”
“Sir!” Jovan, who Scarlett had failed to notice before, boldly stepped in front of Governor Dragna. “I think you’ve said en—”
“Get out of my way.” The governor slapped Jovan across the face.
“Don’t touch her!” Scarlett and Legend both spoke at once, though it was Legend who moved forward in a flash. Sharp, pale lines and dark, dark eyes now focused on the governor. “You will not hurt any more of my players.”
“Or what are you going to do?” Governor Dragna snarled. “I know the rules. I know you can’t harm me as long as the game is in play.”
“Then you also know the game ends at sunrise, which is approaching fast. When that happens, I’m no longer bound by those rules.” Legend bared his teeth. “Since you have seen my true face, that’s even more incentive for me to rid the world of you.”
Legend flicked his wrist, and every candled lamp and fire pit throughout the balcony turned brighter, casting a hellish red-orange glow over the obsidian floor.
Governor Dragna paled.
“I may not have cared about your daughter,” Legend went on, “but I do care about my players, and I know what you have done.”
“What is he talking about?” Scarlett asked.
“Don’t listen to him,” said the governor.
“Your father thought he could kill me,” Legend said. “The governor mistakenly believed Dante was the master of Caraval, and took his life instead.”
Scarlett looked at her father aghast. “You murdered Dante?”
Even the count, who now stood at a distance, looked unsettled by this.
Governor Dragna’s breathing turned heavy. “I was just trying to protect you!”
“Maybe you should think about protecting yourself,” Legend went on. “If I were you, Governor, I’d leave now and never come back, to this place or anywhere else you might find me. Things will not end as favorably next time I see you.”
The count backed away first. “I had nothing to do with any murders. I was only here for her.” The count’s eye cut to Scarlett, holding her gaze far past that initial moment of being uncomfortable. He didn’t say another word. But his lips curved just enough to show a flash of white teeth. It was the same way he had looked at her the first time she’d run away from him; as if a game between the two of them had just begun and he was eager to play.
Scarlett got the impression that although Count Nicolas d’Arcy was leaving, their business was far from complete.
The count tilted his head in a mockery of a bow. Then he turned and strode out of the door, silver boots echoing as he disappeared.
“Come on.” The governor waved Scarlett forward with an unsteady hand. “We’re leaving.”
“No.” Scarlett was shaking again, but she stood her ground. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You stupid—” The governor swore. “If you stay, he’s defeated our family. This is what he wanted. But if you want to come with me, he loses. I’m sure the count will—”
“I’m not marrying him, and you cannot make me. You’re the one who destroyed our family. All you want is power and control,” Scarlett said, “but you will not have either over me any longer. You have nothing left to hold me now that Tella is gone.”