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Legendary (Caraval, #2): Chapter no 32

Legendary (Caraval, #2)

Tella had half expected to see Caspar or Nigel or another of Legendโ€™s players, but this young man was foreign to her. It felt like further confirmation the game had turned very real, or that Tella was on the wrong path. She believed that to win Caraval all she needed to do was find her motherโ€™s Deck of Destinyโ€”but believing something didnโ€™t make it true.

Doubt nipped at her as she stepped inside the Temple of the Stars.

The man who opened the door really could have been a carving come to life. His arms and legs, and the parts of him that Tella could see peeking out from all the leathers covering his chest and thighs, looked more like stone than muscle. Maybe he didnโ€™t tower quite so high as the statues outside the sanctuary, but he was taller than Dante. The sort of tall that made Tella tilt her neck to fully see his face.

She swallowed a gasp as she caught sight of his cheek.

The right half of his face was almost too flawless, from his square jaw to his aquiline nose and the dark kohl around his upswept eyes. But all Tella saw when she looked at the left half was the brand burned into his cheekโ€”a brutal eight-pointed star with a symbol in the center made of intricate knots that Tella didnโ€™t recognize.

She tried to avert her eyes, but she was certain he caught her staring. As if to taunt her, he traced the ruthless lines of the star with the tip of one finger.

But though his face was branded, a silver circlet crowned his brow, and a royal-blue cloak draped from his right shoulder held in place by a silver pin that matched the signet ring on the finger heโ€™d used to trace his cheek. He

must have been in a position of power, which only made her more nervous. If the temple was as wicked as everyone said, this severe young man must have done unspeakable things to rise to the top of it.

โ€œIโ€™m Theron.โ€ With one simple bend of his wrist, as if used to having others follow his commands, he bade Tella and Dante walk deeper into the foyer.

The ceiling arched above them like a series of interconnected wings, all black with pinpricks of gold clustered together like constellations. Below, the octagonal space was primarily filled by a triple-tiered fountain that dripped candlelight. The floors were white soapstone; shiny enough to reflect the glowing gate covering the double doors at the back wall.

It felt like the sort of place a person was meant to whisper. Tella had the sudden urge to take off her slippers, as if they might soil the spotless floors. Though for all its glimmer and shimmer, there was something insidious about the place. More stone statues lined the walls, as lifelike as the ones in the front, only these were all frozen with expressions of shock, horror, and pain.

โ€œOur temple is fueled by ancient magic from the stars,โ€ Theron said. โ€œThe vaults beneath are more secure than any in the world but occasionally fools think they can break in and steal from them.โ€

โ€œGood thing weโ€™re not planning on stealing anything,โ€ said Tella.

Theron didnโ€™t so much as crack a smile. โ€œWhat exactly do you want here?โ€

โ€œI have a question aboutโ€”โ€

โ€œIf youโ€™re here for the game, we do not possess any clues,โ€ Theron cut in. โ€œWe are also not a tourist attraction like many of the other basilicas. To move beyond this hall and have your questions answered, youโ€™ll have to prove your motives arenโ€™t tainted and that you truly seek the stars.โ€ He led Tella and Dante farther in to a lone ivory pedestal topped off by a hammered copper bowl, old and battered compared to everything else. โ€œFor our examination, we require one drop of blood.โ€

Dante side-eyed Tella.

But she didnโ€™t need him to remind her how powerful a drop of blood could be. Dante and Julian had used blood to heal her after the Undead

Queen and Her Handmaidens had attacked her, but blood could also be used to steal things, like days.

โ€œI only need a prick of one finger.โ€ Theron held out his right hand, revealing a black-banded starburst-shaped opal ring, sharp enough to slice skin, and bitingly familiar.

It looked remarkably like her motherโ€™s.

Elantine was right.

Tellaโ€™s eyes shot down to her hand. Both ringsโ€™ stones were raw and starburst shaped. But the color of Theronโ€™s was different. His stone was black, with embers of pulsing blue and threads of green. Tellaโ€™s was fiery, glowing lavender surrounded by a center of burning cherry with a thin line of gold down the middle that made it look like a spark about to catch flame. But even before it had shifted colors after her motherโ€™s disappearance, it had been much lighter than Theronโ€™s.

โ€œYour ring,โ€ Tella asked, โ€œis it just for pricking fingers, or does it represent something else?โ€

โ€œYou havenโ€™t earned the answer to that question.โ€ โ€œWhat if I have a similar ring?โ€ Tella held out her hand. Danteโ€™s gaze narrowed and landed on Tellaโ€™s finger.

A crease formed between Theronโ€™s kohl-lined eyes. โ€œHow did that come into your possession?โ€

โ€œIt was my motherโ€™s.โ€ โ€œIs she dead?โ€

โ€œNo.โ€

โ€œShe should not have given that to you.โ€ โ€œWhy not? What does it mean?โ€

โ€œIt means she owes a debt to us that has not been paid.โ€ Dante tensed beside Tella.

This wasnโ€™t good news, but it was better than no information at all.

โ€œThe ring on your finger is a key,โ€ Theron said. โ€œIf it truly belonged to your mother, she must have placed something in our vaults that can only be retrieved with the ring. However, the color of it signifies itโ€™s been cursed.โ€

โ€œHow do I break the curse?โ€

โ€œThe only way is to fulfill her debt,โ€ Theron answered flatly. โ€œUntil that payment is made, the key on your finger will not work to open her vault.โ€

โ€œTellaโ€”โ€ Danteโ€™s tone hinted at a warning.

But whatever it was, Tella didnโ€™t want to hear it. Her mother had not only been here but something of hers was in the vaults. Maybe it was the Deck of Destiny Tella needed to find. Or maybe it was something else that would tell Tella more about who her mother had been.

โ€œWhat does she owe?โ€ Tella asked. โ€œWhat did she place in your vaults?โ€ โ€œI cannot answer those questions,โ€ said Theron. โ€œBut the ring can. It has

a memory, activated by blood. If it truly was your motherโ€™s, your blood should bring forth a vision of what she promised us. All you need to do is prick your finger with one of its tips and drop the blood in the bowl.โ€

โ€œTellaโ€”โ€ Dante growled. โ€œI donโ€™t think you shouldโ€”โ€

But Tella was already pressing the tip of her finger to her motherโ€™s old ring. Red pooled, rose-petal bright, before falling into the copper basin and turning white.

Tella held her breath as the milky drop of blood transformed into a fog that reflected the image of a woman standing in front of a bowl exactly like the one before Tella. But it wasnโ€™t just any woman. It was Tellaโ€™s mother, Paloma. She was older than sheโ€™d looked in the picture Tella had seen in Elantineโ€™s Most Wantedโ€”she appeared to be around the same age as when sheโ€™d disappeared from Trisda. But she looked so much harsher than Tella remembered. There were no hints of her enigmatic smile, no sparkle in her dark eyes. This was a callous version of her mother that Tella was unfamiliar with.

In the vision, Paloma wasnโ€™t dressed in a sheet like Tella, or if she was, it was concealed by the dark blue cloak she wore. She appeared to be speaking with someone, but whoever she spoke with was merely a shadow.

โ€œParadise the Lost,โ€ said the shadow. Its voice sounded like smoke come life. Thick and heavy and stifling. โ€œI thought you swore to never make another bargain with us.โ€

โ€œVows are made to broken,โ€ Paloma said. โ€œApparently spells are, too, because the one you placed on my cards to conceal them grew weak.โ€

โ€œThatโ€™s why we suggested putting them in our temple vaults, with the other items weโ€™re holding for you.โ€

โ€œSuggested?โ€ Paloma snorted. โ€œI thought you said I couldnโ€™t put them in my vault.โ€

โ€œNo, we said you would need to pay an extra price.โ€ Paloma stiffened.

โ€œSo you do remember,โ€ said the voice. โ€œAnd since we are generous, the offer still stands.โ€

โ€œFor the same price as before?โ€

โ€œYes. Be grateful we are not requiring more to protect such a terrible item.โ€

โ€œWhat more could you ask from a mother than to give up her firstborn child?โ€

โ€œWe could ask for your second-born as well.โ€

โ€œIโ€™d never give them both to you,โ€ Paloma said. โ€œBut you can have my second-born.โ€

โ€œWhat use to us is your second child,โ€ asked the shadow, โ€œaside from being a pretty ornament?โ€

โ€œIโ€™ve seen the future. Sheโ€™ll possess great power. If you donโ€™t believe me, I have the cards to prove it. Though I think weโ€™re all better off if I never use them again.โ€ Paloma lifted her chin stubbornly. โ€œThe curse imprisoning the Fates is losing power. It weakens every time the cards are used.โ€

โ€œThatโ€™s not our concern.โ€

โ€œIt should be. More Fates will escape. Let me use your vaults to hide these cards while I search for a way to destroy them. Unless you want this place of worship to become the Temple of the Fallen Starโ€”because I guarantee that if the Fates return, they will only allow people to worshipย them.โ€

The shadowy figured appeared to darken, turning from smoky gray to almost black.

โ€œVery well,โ€ it said at last. โ€œGive us your second-born daughter and we will let you use our vaults to hold your accursed cards.โ€

โ€œDone.โ€ Paloma used a knife to slice her palm. โ€œMy daughterโ€”โ€

โ€œNo!โ€ Tella knocked the copper bowl from the pedestal, destroying the image before it could show her any more awful things. โ€œMy mother had no right to do that!โ€ Tella shook her head, ripping her fingers through her curls as she backed away. โ€œEven if that image is real, Iโ€™m not hers to give away.โ€

โ€œAnd yet,โ€ Theron said, โ€œshe already has. Itโ€™s been pledged in blood.

Once youโ€”โ€

Tella started running before Theron could finish. He saidย once you, which made it sound as if Tella had to do something before they could take her, and she didnโ€™t plan on allowing that to happen, ever. Tella would never belong to anyone.

Theron didnโ€™t follow. Maybe that meant it had been a test and that what sheโ€™d seen wasnโ€™t real, or maybe he didnโ€™t have to follow, because people only chased after things they didnโ€™t already possess.

From the sound of it Dante did not pursue her either, though Tella didnโ€™t spare so much as a look behind her as she raced down the Temple of the Starsโ€™s steps. Her worthless sheet nearly ripped in her haste, but she didnโ€™t stop running.

Scarlett had been right. Her mother had been worse than her father. At least heโ€™d waited until Scarlett was of age before selling her off like a goat. Tellaโ€™s chest had never felt so hollow. Sheโ€™d sacrificed everything for her mother, risked her freedom and her life, believing her mother still loved her and needed her. But the truth was sheโ€™d never cared. Not only had she left Tella, sheโ€™d given her away like a used dress.

Tella could have kept running, but her slippers were starting to tear, and the roads had turned unfamiliar.

Uneven grass, made dark by the night, rubbed against her shoes. Rather than incense and oils, the air smelled of thick beers and tart berry ciders. With a quick sweep of her eyes Tella saw temporary stages, and theatrical curtains hanging from trees.

Sheโ€™d stumbled into a park. But Tella had no idea to what part of the city it belonged.

Not the Spice Quarter. Everything was far too pretty. From the street vendorsโ€™ deep-fried confections dusted with crushed violets and sugar to the bejeweled dresses worn by the women and the shining weapon-belts

ornamenting the men. Only the swords on the belts did not look real, and neither did the womenโ€™s jewels.

It seemed sheโ€™d run right into the middle of a small festival made of park-plays, or some sort of fair to celebrate the empressโ€™s upcoming birthdayโ€”perhaps for all of the Valendans not participating in Caraval. Curious gazes were moving in her direction. But Tella doubted anyone would mistake her for one of the performers. Unless these particular plays involved a female sacrifice, Tella was dressed entirely wrong. The women here were all covered up by bell-sleeved gowns with flowing skirts, while Tella had naked legs and exposed arms. Suddenly she was freezing. Now that sheโ€™d stopped, fatigue hit her like a wave of ice, leaving her shaken and out of breath, without a properly working heart to warm her up.

Spying a vendor selling cloaks, Tella snatched a dark one that looked about her size.

โ€œThief!โ€ screamed the vendor. Tella started to sprint.

โ€œGive that back!โ€ A heavy set of arms knocked her into the ground, and a weighty chest pressed her into the rough grass.

โ€œGetoffame!โ€ She tried to wriggle free. โ€œYoucanhaveyourfilthyfabricback!โ€

The vendor rolled off her, and yanked the cloak from her shoulders. But he left a hand on her neck, and squeezed. Hard and tight. Until Tella felt the cords of her throat rub together. โ€œDirty thief.โ€ He kept her face pinned to the ground. โ€œThis will teach you not toโ€”โ€

โ€œLet go of her!โ€ roared a voice.

The hand was ripped from Tellaโ€™s neck. Then arms were scooping Tella up, pulling her tight to a pounding chest that smelled of ink and sweat and fury.

โ€œI believe itโ€™s against the law to kill someone for borrowing a cloak,โ€ Dante snarled at the vendor.

Splotches of angry red colored the manโ€™s bearded face. โ€œShe wasnโ€™t borrowing it. She stole it!โ€

โ€œThatโ€™s not what it looked like to me,โ€ Dante said. โ€œThe cloakโ€™s in your hands now. I never saw it in hers. But I did see you trying to kill her.โ€

The vendor sputtered a string of curses.

โ€œGive us the garment and I wonโ€™t have you arrested,โ€ Dante said.

Tella could only see his chest from this angle, but she imagined he looked like a warriorโ€”standing there without a shirt in all his godlike splendor and dressed like a vengeful star just fallen from the heavens.

โ€œFine,โ€ grumbled the man. โ€œI donโ€™t want the soiled thing anymore.โ€ โ€œAnd Iโ€™ll take one for myself, in black.โ€ Danteโ€™s voice was merciless, a

tone Tella had never heard cross his lips, yet everything he did with her was gentle. He tenderly tucked the cape around her bare shoulders and shaking legs.

โ€œAre you all right?โ€ he asked.

Tella wished she could have nodded or laughed and teased him for being so concerned. But when she tried to laugh it sounded strangled, and when she attempted to nod her head fell pathetically onto his chest.

She didnโ€™t want to cry. Neither the filthy vendor nor her mother was worthy of a single tear. But while Tella could easily shake off the feel of the vendorโ€™s rough hands, she couldnโ€™t do the same with the words her mother had said. Not only had her mother left her, sheโ€™d sold Tella off. Not Scarlett; that hadnโ€™t even been a consideration. It seemed her mother hadnโ€™t been without love. She just hadnโ€™t loved Tella.

More tears fell from Tellaโ€™s eyes.

โ€œI hope she dies!โ€ Tella didnโ€™t know if sheโ€™d muttered it, or raged it. โ€œFor years I prayed to any saint who might be listening to please keep her alive until I was able to find her. I wasted all my prayers on her, and she gave me away like a stained rag. But I take it all back!โ€ Tella did shout then. โ€œI take it all back! You can let her die or rot in her paper prison. I donโ€™t care anymore. I donโ€™t care anymore.โ€ฆโ€

Tella didnโ€™t know how many times she muttered those last four words.

Dante just kept stroking her hair and her back with strong, comforting fingers as he continued to carry her. Occasionally heโ€™d press something that felt like a kiss to the top of her head. But it wasnโ€™t until she fell silent that he finally asked, โ€œWhere do you want me to take you?โ€

โ€œSomewhere to forget.โ€

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