Caraval (Caraval 1)

The silver-haired woman smiled, but it wasn’t kind. It was as greedy and green as the light that dusted the room. “Is your sister Donatella Dragna?”

“How did you know that?”

“When did you last see her?” asked the silver-haired woman. “What does she look like?”

“I—she—” Scarlett started to answer, but the interrogation felt foul, like a bathtub filled with dirty water. The silver-haired woman’s tone was as eager as her pale eyes and clutching hands. And then Scarlett saw it, in the woman’s wrinkled palm. A gr

een glass key.

Exactly like the one Scarlett had received, etched with a number five, and attached to a slip of paper bearing Donatella’s name.

Julian’s words rushed back. Her sister’s name was Scarlett’s first clue. And other people had been given the same exact clue.

It’s all a game. Scarlett remembered the warning from the girl on the unicycle. This wasn’t real.

But it felt that way. The dresses strewn about the room were really Donatella’s. And when her sister had warned her away from the room, that had been her voice, and she had genuinely sounded upset, although now Scarlett feared it wasn’t for the reason she originally thought.

Several feathers took flight as the woman plucked one of Tella’s lacy light-blue nightdresses from the ground and her companion stole a piece of costume jewelry from the floor.

“Please, don’t touch those,” Scarlett said.

“Sorry, dear, just because she’s your sister doesn’t mean you get all the clues.”

“These aren’t clues! These are my sister’s things.” Scarlett raised her voice, but all that did was draw in more people. As eager as vultures, men and women, both young and old, ripped through the room like beasts sucking meat off bones. Scarlett felt powerless to stop them. How had she ever thought this was a magical game?

Some of them tried to ask her questions—as if she might lead them to another clue—but when Scarlett wouldn’t answer they hastily moved on.

She tried to seize what she could. She grabbed dresses and under-things, ribbons and jewelry and picture cards. Tella must have been sincere about never returning to Trisda, for it wasn’t only her clothes strewn about the room. All her favorite possessions were there, and a few of Scarlett’s as well. Scarlett wasn’t sure if these were things Tella had taken selfishly, or if she’d brought them to the isle for Scarlett because she’d not planned on either of them returning to Trisda.

“Excuse me.” A pregnant girl with rosy cheeks and strawberry-blond hair approached Scarlett, her voice the one quiet sound amid the chaos. “You look as if you could use some help. I can’t exactly bend over well.” She motioned to her full, rounded stomach. “Maybe I could hold on to those things while you keep gathering?”

Scarlett was reaching the point where she couldn’t pick up more, but she didn’t want to let go of what she’d managed to grab.

“It’s not as if I can run off,” the girl added. She was young, about Scarlett’s age, and from the size of her it appeared she could have her baby any minute.

“I’m not sure—” Scarlett broke off as a man in cheap velveteen pants and a brown bowler hat kicked a piece of stained glass. Something glittery red sparkled beneath it.

“No! You can’t take those.” Scarlett lunged toward the man, but the moment he saw her interest, his own ignited into something stronger. He snatched the precious earrings from the floor and bolted to the door.

She ran after him, but he was quick and her arms were burdened. She was only halfway down the hall when he made it to the rickety stairs.

“Here, let me hold those.” The pregnant girl was beside her in the hall. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” she promised.

Scarlett didn’t want to let go of what she’d gathered, but she really couldn’t lose those earrings. Dropping her things in the girl’s open arms, Scarlett clutched the bottom of her snowy skirt and tried to catch up with the man. She caught a glimpse of his brown bowler hat when she reached the staircase, but then it vanished from sight.

Out of breath, she burst downstairs, seeing the door to La Serpiente swing shut as if someone had just raced through. Scarlett chased after it, grabbing its garish green edge. Outside, the world was nightfall and daybreak all at once. Stars winked above like evil eyes, while hosts of lanterns set the streets ablaze with lustrous candlelight. An accordion’s jaunty tune rang over the streets, and people moved to its music, swaying skirted hips and swinging jacketed elbows. But there were no bobbing bowler hats. The man had disappeared.

It shouldn’t have mattered. They were only earrings. But they weren’t only earrings. They were scarlets.

Scarlet stones for Scarlett, her mother had said. A final present before she had left. Scarlett had known there was no such thing as a scarlet stone, that they were really just colored bits of glass, but that had never mattered. They were a piece of her mother, and a reminder that Governor Dragna had once been a different man. Your father gave me these, she said, because scarlet was my favorite color.

It was difficult to picture her father being thoughtful like that now. He’d been so different before. After Paloma had run off and he’d been unable to find her, he’d destroyed everything that reminded him of her, leaving Scarlett with only the earrings, but only because she’d hidden them from him. That’s when Scarlett swore to always stay with her sister, to never leave Tella with nothing but a piece of jewelry and faded memories the way their mother had. Even years later, Paloma’s disappearance clung to Scarlett like a shadow that no amount of brightness could erase.

Scarlett’s eyes burned with tears. Again, she tried to remember this was only a game. But it was not the game she thought it would be.

Back in the crooked hallway of La Serpiente, Scarlett was not surprised to find the pregnant girl had made off with all her things. Nothing remained in the hall of her sister’s precious belongings. All Scarlett found was a glass button and a picture card that either the girl or someone else must have dropped.

“Those vultures.”