Finale (Caraval 3)

“Please,” Scarlett rasped. “I—I only took the blood because I thought if I drank it then maybe it would help me finally conquer my magic.”

“Then you should have just asked. I would have given it to you, auhtara. But now I have to give you something else instead.” His fingers squeezed her throat again and her world went dark.

* * *

When Scarlett woke later on, her head felt too heavy to mo

ve, and there was something tight around her neck, grating against her skin.

“The cage will probably take a while to get used to.” The Fallen Star’s voice held a hint of diversion.

Scarlett’s eyes flashed open to a world of red. There were vertical rows of ruby-red beads fitted around her head—he’d imprisoned her in a cage. A sob shook her chest. She tried to rip it off; her fingers tore at the gems, tried to bend their bars and rip them off, but they were ineffectual, and soon she was weeping too hard to do anything else.

The Fallen Star reached in between the ruby bars to stroke Scarlett’s damp cheek. “Don’t betray me again. My punishment won’t be so kind next time.”

* * *

The memory faded as Scarlett looked in her vanity mirror. The ruby cage encasing her head looked like the bloody cousin to the cage worn by the Maiden Death. But rather than looking powerful like that Fate always did in Decks of Destiny, Scarlett thought that she looked entirely powerless. She hadn’t been able to sleep wearing it, so there were deep circles beneath her eyes, and since her hair had been down when he’d put it on, strands of her dark hair stuck to her throat, held in place by the unmoving collar of the cage.

Anissa had tried to tell her it was pretty, and that it matched her scarlet earrings. They’d once been a treasured gift from her mother. Your father gave these to me, she said, because scarlet was my favorite color. They used to make Scarlett think that Marcello Dragna, the father who’d raised her, had once been a better man. But, Scarlett realized, her mother must have been referring to the Fallen Star.

Scarlett tried not to think about her mother. But for once, she wished she could go back in time to talk to her and ask her what to do.

Scarlett hadn’t contacted Julian and her sister. She’d been too ashamed and embarrassed to slip them a note letting them know that she’d failed in getting the blood, and she didn’t want them to see her like this, even for a second. Scarlett knew that she had to be even more careful now. She couldn’t risk using the Reverie Key unless it was an emergency.

She couldn’t make another mistake and she couldn’t run away. If Scarlett wanted to save herself and everyone else before the Fallen Star took the throne the day after tomorrow, she had only one choice left: to conquer her power and use it to make him love her.

She took a deep breath and left her bedchamber to meet him.

Tonight, he was dressed in brown leather pants, a loose white shirt, and a pale gold cape that matched the victorious gleam in his eyes. He’d been in an excellent mood ever since he’d placed the cage around Scarlett’s head; he liked being able to demonstrate just how much power he had over her. But tonight he appeared almost boyish in his excitement.

When Scarlett took a seat beside him on the marble bench near Anissa’s cage, he grinned and stroked the curving ruby bars surrounding Scarlett’s face. “My Fates have finished tracking down the members of the royal council. Now all their severed heads are sitting on pikes at the docks. There are no more barriers to stop me from claiming the throne tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow.” Scarlett tried to keep the panic from her voice. “I thought you were waiting another day?”

“I’ve never been good at being patient.” He jumped up from his seat. “But don’t worry, to help prepare you for tomorrow’s coronation, I’ve brought a gift that I’m hoping will aid you in finally conquering your abilities.”

The Fallen Star called for his personal guard to open the door, and a young woman who looked as if someone had taken a magic cloth to wipe away half of her coloring stumbled into the room. Her hair was a faded shade of red, and her skin was pallid white, with dull black tattoos peeking out from beneath her long black gloves. Yet the colors of her feelings were anything but dim. Vitriolic shades of rotted plum swirled around her in spiteful, enraged circles.

The Fallen Star strode toward his captive the way a hunter might approach trapped prey. “I rescued her from the Temple District when it was on fire yesterday. Unfortunately, she’s not very grateful; I’ve already had to punish her. She might be difficult for you to work with, unless you find a way to control her.” He ran a finger down the young woman’s cheek.

The woman snapped her teeth over his fingers, biting the tips.

The Fallen Star ripped his hand from her mouth before she could draw blood. “Behave.” His voice remained gentle, but his words were followed by a burst of flames that singed the ends of her hair.

“If you succeed in controlling her emotions, then I will take that cage off your head. But if you don’t, I’m afraid the results will be unpleasant.” His gaze traced the lines of rubies imprisoning Scarlett’s head. “I’ve been wondering if perhaps you haven’t conquered your powers because you’ve lacked the proper motivation. Hopefully you have it now. I’ll come back in the morning to view your progress, and for your sake, auhtara, I really hope there is progress.”

43

Donatella

Tella couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned until she’d ripped all the cool silk sheets off her bed. But as soon as she did, they rearranged themselves, tucking her back in. She didn’t know what kind of glamour it was, but she knew it was somehow Legend’s doing.

He was so frustrating and confusing and impossible not to think about.

He hadn’t come to see her after his conversation with Julian. And now that Jacks had taken away his ability to meet Tella in her dreams, she knew she wouldn’t see him there, either. But even if he had, she didn’t know what was left to say.

She needs to save you.