Finale (Caraval 3)

“Prince Dante was killed by someone in the maze.”

“Invaders have taken over the city and beheaded Prince Dante.”

Some of the claims were closer to the truth than others, but all of them had one thing in common: Legend was dead.

Her steps faltered, but she didn’t stop. If anything, she ran harder. The Fates had won another round. But once Tella found her sister, and Legend came back to life, they’d all visit the Vanished Market. There they’d find a way to destroy the Fallen Star, and then they’d be able to stop the other Fates, as well.

There were holes in her slippers by the time she and Julian passed the edge of the city at dawn. It was a brilliantly bloody sunrise, as if someone had sliced opened the clouds and hazy streams of red had poured out instead of rain. On another morning it might have looked wrong, but on this particular day it felt appropriate that even the sky appeared violent.

A dusty stretch of dry, yellowing grassland rested between the city and the count’s estate. The sad bark of a dog was the only sound, save for the tired trudge of Tella’s and Julian’s footsteps.

Tella tried to catch her breath, now that their pace had slowed. She inhaled deeply, but the air tasted unclean, like the foulest parts of the city rather than a fresh slice of country. The stench grew stronger and the sad howling of the dog grew louder as they approached the count’s estate.

Tella hugged her arms to her chest, and Julian walked closer to her side.

The count’s residence looked like the beginning of a fairy tale, before the magic had arrived. The gardens were full of curious, well-tended flowers that appeared to have been planted with care. But the house itself was covered in chipping paint, the windows clean but full of cracks, and the crumbling chimneys appeared to be in severe need of repair. Even the long path they followed to the house was covered in fractures.

“I thought the count’s residence was fancier,” Tella said. “Scarlett described it as being much nicer.”

“I don’t think she saw it for what it really was the other day. I think she was too concerned about meeting the count. And it didn’t smell this bad.” Julian put a hand over his nose and mouth.

Tella did the same, fresh nerves clawing at her stomach. The stench was so putrid she dry-heaved as they reached the front door. It was cracked open, oozing more of the wretched odor.

The dog barked again, long and keening.

Tella halted as the door creaked all the way open and an awful incessant buzzing joined the unseen dog’s anguished cries.

She didn’t remember entering, but she would regret stepping inside for the rest of her life. No servants greeted them, or warned them away. There was only the endless howling of the dog, the buzzing of the flies, and Tella’s silent prayers.

Do not let my sister be dead.

Do not let my sister be dead.

Because someone was certainly dead. The morbid stench grew worse as she and Julian fina

lly passed the entry and reached the open library.

Tella swayed on her feet as she saw the count’s body. Or she thought it was the count’s body. He was in the second-floor library, sitting in a great chair behind his desk, and he looked as if the skin had been burned off his body.

The dog beside him howled again and shook its sad face, trying to ward off the maggots and flies from feasting on the count’s remains.

Tella tried to look away from the charred corpse; she’d seen enough death that week. She didn’t need to look it in the eyes again. She’d never seen a body flayed with fire—and she wished she wasn’t seeing it now. But she couldn’t turn away from the macabre scene before her. It shouldn’t have been possible. If the count had been burned alive, then other parts of his library should have caught fire. But it was as if someone had instructed the flames to only burn his skin.

Tella staggered back a step as something Jacks had said returned to her.

“At least he stabbed her instead of burning her to death with his powers.… Fire’s the most painful way to die.”

“I think I know who did this,” Tella said. “I think the Fallen Star was here to find Scarlett.”

Julian turned entirely gray. “Why would he want Crimson?”

“Because of our mother. Before he killed her, the Fallen Star said that she’d forced him back inside the cursed Deck of Destiny; he must have been free once before, and our mother imprisoned him again. It probably wasn’t enough for him just to kill her—now he’s coming after her daughters.”

Which would also explain why their apartment had been ransacked.

Tella hoped she was wrong. She couldn’t lose her sister the same way she’d lost her mother. But she couldn’t imagine who else had done this, or why anyone else would do this. She’d never liked Nicolas, but the fact that he’d clearly been tortured to death made her think that he hadn’t given up her sister—or at least not easily.

Scarlett might have managed to get away. All the servants seemed to have escaped so maybe they’d taken her sister with them. Or maybe she’d managed to hide and they just needed to find her.