Something was very, very wrong.
No more than a second later, his nose scrunched. He rose from his seat suddenly, knocking over his drink. For it was only then that he heard the desperate shriek from backstage, followed by the distinct smell of smoke.
5
Kallia tightened the clasp of her cloak and hiked her wide-strapped bag over her shoulder.
She had to move fast.
Music from the House pumped into the night, unwilling to let her go just yet. With enough distance, she’d never have to hear another entrance song, or be lowered from another damn chandelier. Hopefully the little surprise she’d left for Jack in her dressing room carried the message, loud and clear. Anything she could do to buy her some time. But the moment he realized she was not among the ashes, he would look for her.
And he wouldn’t stop.
Kallia squeezed the old cloth secured in her pocket for strength. She soldiered on, her sturdy boots weathering the marshy, damp grounds near the stables.
Most of the horses’ heads drooped out of their stalls. As Kallia passed, some were curled up in the hay, resting before they were needed to transport their masters back home. Jack kept a few, in case there was ever a rare need to ride into the forest.
Dark, solemn stares and long faces followed Kallia all the way down the stalls. A few shifted restlessly in place, as if they could feel a charge rippling off her. Eager for it themselves.
Once she reached the last stall, she smiled at the familiar pair of glassy eyes staring back. In her daydreams, she’d always picked Sun Gem to leave with her. The stunning black mare was a little older than the rest, and just like her, more than ready to leave. All saddled up.
It was the calmest she’d been all night as she reached out. “Hey there, gir—”
A scream came from outside.
Then another.
A stream of drunken protests followed, sounding more from a large gathering than a passing group.
Kallia’s heart sank. Hellfire House was closing early. Once Jack realized she was gone, a search would follow. But the distraction of the club should’ve given her a little time, at least. He never officially closed down the club except on designated off nights.
Or on nights when his main act vanished after setting fire to her dressing room.
A curse flew off her lips. If she dashed off with Sun Gem, she’d be exposed instantly. She could try escaping in the crowd, but Jack would still find her. Always.
Pulse spiking, Kallia quickly ran through every option before a damp nose nudged her arm. Sun Gem pawed at the floor in soft, insistent strokes. All the horses stirred, rising in their pens with restless shakes of their heads.
Her elbow rested on the paint-chipped half-door, before she heard the dull metal thunk of the lock giving way. Her skin prickled at the sound, at the line of doors down the length of the stable, the horses’ heads bobbing as if nodding. Yes. Do it.
With a steady call to her magic, Kallia gave a quick flick of the wrist.
A series of hard metal clicks followed, and a chorus of squeaky groans as the stall doors swung open. The horses did nothing at first, the stable entirely still.
The crowd of voices grew nearer outside.
With a frustrated glance toward the rusty lanterns hanging before each station, Kallia snapped her fingers until the fires inside the glass seared brighter with white, burning light—exploding in small, vicious shatters.
Neighs erupted like a discordant surge of violins as the horses, young and old, blew out of their stations. Covering her ears, Kallia sought refuge in Sun Gem’s stall to avoid the violent wave rushing out. The floor shook under the force of their hooves racing across the stable. Soon, the shouts outside rose from discontent to terror. Chaos.
There was no leaving the way she came. Lifting her palm to the end wall of the stable, she pulled all traces of heat lingering under her skin, bringing it to the surface in a surge against the wood.
Any remaining horses whinnied and scurried out of their stalls from the blast. Sun Gem reared up on her legs from the shock of fiery light—which left a gaping hole at the end of the stable, straight for the Dire Woods.
Kallia’s heart lifted.
“Come on!” Patting Sun Gem’s neck, she ran through, the remaining horses thundering behind. Cold fresh air hit her instantly, along with the clash of screams and harsh neighs nearby.
The cacophony faded as Kallia halted at the edge of the forest, catching her breath. The horses gleefully ran straight through with the moon guiding their path, but Kallia withered before the towering, shadowy trees. Their dark silhouettes haunted her, and her nightmares.
Nothing was here to stop her now.
No monsters or illusions, nor their maker.
Kallia clutched at the cloth in her pocket and inhaled deeply, before letting go. She took a step toward the edge—
A flash of dizziness hit her.
A pull.
Jack, calling her back. Wielding whatever hold he had on her—or was it the madness? Taunting her, already? His whisper barely reached her ears before a cold nose pressed at her back. Jolting her.
Sun Gem’s long face watched her, waiting.
Now.
Kallia gritted her teeth, another small spike of pain surged inside her head as she grabbed a chunk of Sun Gem’s thick, black mane and the front of the saddle. Foot in the stirrup, Kallia grunted as she lifted herself over. Her arms burning, legs quaking. Sun Gem didn’t even need the command of the reins to be told to go.
It was like flying. Her hair rushed behind her, her bones knocking about with each hard gallop. The shouts and hollers behind them faded as they drew deeper into the forest, until all that was left was the rustling of leaves, the steady beat of hooves, and Sun Gem’s panting.
The dizziness ebbed from Kallia’s skull, little by little, but her hands grasped the horse’s mane tightly at every jarring turn and jolt. She barely caught herself as they navigated over serpentine tree roots that seemed to slither beneath them, rocks crawling and scuttling onto their moonlit path.
A person could go mad, imagining such things. But Sun Gem charged forward, determined and confident. As if she’d never once gotten lost and wouldn’t start tonight.
It should’ve worried Kallia more, but she had no map. No hint of Glorian beyond the rise of trees around her. If she could place her faith in anything of these Woods, it was the restless horse searching for freedom just like her.
“Stop, Kallia.”
Kallia bolted upright, nearly losing balance. Her breath grew ragged as she looked around for the source. No. He’d never ventured out this far without—
“Here, I give you everything.”
Memories of his voice blew in like a breeze that kissed roughly against her jaw. Wrapped around her neck, and tightened.
“Is that not enough?”
A sob ripped from her. Sun Gem huffed out sharply at the falter in her grip of the reins, the limpness of her legs. Irritated. They must’ve been nearing the border wall of Glorian from her impatience, or were nowhere close. It was hard to tell, as Jack’s words teased her. Forcing her to listen, willing her to stop.
Inhaling deeply, Kallia gave a hearty pat to Sun Gem before continuing on. Another harsh breeze swept through, carrying more of Jack.
“Glorian is not the kind of place for people like you or me.”
She leaned forward as they picked up speed, a sheen of sweat coating the back of her neck. Her legs burning, heart thundering.
“You’re too ambitious for your own good, Kallia.”
Her eyes shut at the pull in her throat.
“You’re not ready.”
In the dark underbelly of the Dire Woods, the madness found her. It knifed inside, twisted and wrestled to weaken her. The forest never played fairly, for there were no rules once you entered. No direction, no time. What seemed like a mile could’ve only been mere steps. A minute, a handful of hours. Torment that stretched beyond reality wanted you to f
eel it, until even the strongest couldn’t survive. Kallia felt her resolve cracking, signaled for Sun Gem to gallop faster, as if she could outrun sound itself. But her head was full of Jack’s voice, her bleary gaze catching hints of his form following her between the shadows of the trees encompassing her.
Were the Woods just humoring her with the guise of escape?
Would she find him at the end of her path, waiting?
She shivered, the possibility haunting. Their steps, feeling numbered. Until the horse soon shuddered to a lighter canter, then a stop.
The motion sent Kallia reeling as she looked to the sky to anchor her—finding the tree branches lacing the sky. And in between them, tall walls with gated tops.
The Glorian border. It looked so different from how she’d viewed it from her greenhouse. Always a fixture in the distance, not one she would ever meet.
Everything fell silent. The howling of the wind in the trees, Jack’s voice. The world around her fell still in the face of the immense stone wall curving to the iron-wrought gates.
Larger than Kallia imagined it would be. On the roof, it looked more like the brimstone rim of a teacup. Here, it was an impenetrable fortress. So tall and imposing that, after always looking at it from afar, it didn’t seem real.
Glorian.
Impatiently, Kallia dismounted. She almost twisted her ankle in her intense yet graceless battle to reach the ground, but Sun Gem stayed firmly in place, ears perked and alert. Kallia could hear her following behind toward the gates, the gaping archway that interrupted the stone expanse.
Kallia stroked the horse’s neck sadly. “I’m sorry girl, I can’t take you with me.”
Sun Gem blinked as Kallia’s fingers smoothed back the spot between her ears. She found the fastenings of the saddle and unbuckled them one by one, letting them drop to the ground and kicking them aside. In this city, Sun Gem would only be tied down again, to a carriage or another stable. It was not fair to escape one prison only to fall back into another.
The horse gave a soft huff before backing into the forest. In no time, Kallia heard her hooves galloping away, running farther and farther from the wall. The retreating sound, both comforting and cold.
Kallia was alone.
Light peeked from behind, grazing the tops of the wall in a smattering of sunrise. She could barely feel the exhaustion seeping in, not when she was just breaths away from Glorian, of feeling the sun she’d always known on a different side of the Dire Woods.
With each step, more of the city’s music filled her ears—birds chirping and wings flapping, hammers hitting away in the clamor of construction. Kallia soaked in these new sounds. They were no different from those she’d heard around the House on a busy morning, but there was something exhilarating in the rise of an entire city rather than a household.
A smile touched her lips as she finally faced the entrance.
She’d imagined it a thousand times over.
The black gates were flung wide open, welcoming and sleek in the morning light. The stacked stones of the walls shone dark gray, but the gates that completed it were smooth and just as striking. When her eyes worked around them, the designs and the intricacy, Kallia laughed. From afar, they’d only appeared like odd wired forms. Up close, she devoured each circle and block, star and triangle, all twined in the corners. Symbols steeped in mystery. A new hand ready to be dealt.
Kallia walked through the gates, entering the city of cards.
ACT II
ENTER THE DEVILS:
THE BEASTS THAT HUNT, AND THE GHOSTS WHO HAUNT
The master of the House had not left his room all day. The entire night before, he had searched the Dire Woods on horseback, her voice teasing his ear, whispering that she’d returned. That she would never leave, happy and satisfied right where she was.
Only a fool believed the forest and its lies. When he’d found her dressing room drowning in flames but no sign of her, he’d taken to the Woods. It was a risk to venture out that far, for that long. He’d spent hours calling her name, resisting the forest answering in return. But he’d already known.
Gone.
With all the curtains drawn tight, barring all light, he sat on his leather couch facing the fireplace that roared too hot for the day. He was a mess of disheveled hair, in a white shirt he didn’t bother to button, and a drink his maids tsked at permanently attached to his right hand.
A knock came at the door, and still, he didn’t move.
“It’s nearing sunset,” a servant called. “I’ve got another tray out here if you—”
“Leave it.” He barely raised his voice, but the message was received from the sudden clink outside, the sound of feet scurrying away. The noise reminded him of the chaos of the night before, the horses storming the House grounds, the screams of his patrons. No one had been hurt too seriously, but then, everyone had avoided his path.
Until he wiped their memories clean to rid the night from their minds.
He wished he could do the same to himself. He threw back another swig, nostrils flaring from the burn. The fire spiked higher as he refocused on the flames.
She was gone.
To where, he didn’t need to guess.
He turned his glance to the mirror on the wall. Glaring at it, even though the shadowed, sneering face no longer dominated the surface.
Every year, you play your games with them. One day, you might lose.
Remembering that monstrous voice, the master’s fist curled tighter, close to shattering the mirror. It had been a mistake to answer the old devil’s call. He hadn’t bothered in years, the glass darkened and dead as glass ought to be.
How much had she heard?
Not like it mattered. She’d heard enough.
Snarling, he knocked his empty glass over and rose to look out the window. His joints cracked under the prowling movement, eyes fixed to where he ripped open the curtains. Light hit his chest as he watched the sun set. In the distance, the hint of gated walls and shadowed buildings peeked over the dark wave of trees.
Damned city, and the monsters that waited there.
6
THE CONQUERING CIRCUS PRESENTS …
S P E C T A C U L O R E
WHERE THE STAGE TELLS A STORY, AND LEGENDS ARE BORN!
Join our competition to find the magician among magicians:
a man among men who’ll rise as the next star of the Conquering Circus.
Open auditions in Glorian held at the Alastor Place.
Born or acquired magic welcome. Stage assistants optional.
It could’ve been hours that Kallia had spent shivering by the public bulletin. It is so much colder here, she thought. The unfamiliar ice gripped at her bones, her cloak staving off the worst of it. Her eyes took in the board, studded with papers like the flyer on Kallia’s roof—the half-torn page, in full.
Magician among magicians.
A man among men.
She dug her hand into her pocket for the cloth, fingers running over the stitched rose to relieve the tight pressure in her chest. She wanted to blame the succinctness for the sake of catchiness, but it lay plain in the message staring her in the face.
You can leave, but you’d soon see there’s not much out there for female magicians.
So Jack hadn’t lied. The idea was so small-minded, so limiting and presumptuous. Her stomach soured as the words repeated in her head, an angry rhythm forming. She hadn’t run away only to be stopped before the games had begun.
She would show them.
With the raise of her chin, Kallia clutched her cloak tighter and turned her back on the posters. She blew out a stream of mist, the kind she’d only seen on winter mornings after cracking open her window at the House. Except this mist was even finer, colder. Just like everything else about the city.
For so long she’d envisioned streets bustling with people. The air warm with the sounds of laughter. Bright buildings built with broad windows, rooftops glittering beneath the break of daylight.
It was a cold world. Colder than anything Kallia had ever known. A city frozen in place, quiet and lonesome even as people passed her on the street. Men and women were dressed in coats buttoned to their chins, with neat, proper hairstyles for the women and crisp top hats for the men. All in bland, neutral palettes.
Kallia had never felt more out of her element, conspicuous in her billowing emerald-green cloak. With her dark hair worn down and wild in the wind, her burgundy boots peeking out with each step, she was honestly more grateful for how much her cloak covered than its warmth. If people saw what she wore beneath or the clothes in her bag, she’d probably have a mob chasing her out the gates. From the offended stares and whispers following her, it was still a possibility.
What have I gotten myself into?
The question beat mercilessly inside with no answer. No other choice but to move forward, because what else was there, looking back?
Nothing.
No one.
Kallia lifted her head high and strutted down the street, combating all the side eyes and the hopelessly lost feeling that pricked at her inside. Beneath the ice, Glorian was carved with rough red-rock roads and serpentine paths as confusing as the Dire Woods. The buildings were not at all like the mountainous manors that had welcomed her from afar, but tall, austere masses. Discordant architecture without signs or labels, and it only infuriated Kallia more. As if she were wearing a blindfold in an already pitch-black room, all while an audience watched.
The Alastor Place. Finding it would be the first step. When Kallia had looked closer at the flyer, her chest nearly caved with relief at the fine print promising accommodations and a stipend to the contestants, for as long as they kept their spots in the game.
Where Dreams Descend Page 5
