Where Dreams Descend

by Janella Angeles

  She leaned into his hold, the way his fingers spanned her waist teasingly, pressing her against him. His panting in her ear, against her skin.

  Heat coiled in her belly as she arched her back out, her head tipped back and hair falling down her spine. There was only sensation, and she gloried in it. Flying over the fire, sweat trailing down her skin, applause ringing in her ears.

  Kallia

  Her name played on their lips like a song. She’d had no name at Hellfire House, but here, she was known. Here, she would be remembered and spoken of for longer than a night.

  Kallia

  Kallia

  Kallia

  Cheers burst loud as screams, piercing enough to make Kallia stiffen. She’d introduced no tricks, no moves to raise such a reaction.

  “What’s happening?” she whispered into his neck.

  “KALLIA!”

  She straightened at the voice echoing from the crowd.

  Impossible.

  It sounded like Demarco, screaming her name beyond the stage.

  The cold shattered inside her. Kallia pushed at the hands around her, tearing off the blindfold. As soon as she broke her hold on the act, the fires around them died into smoke, thin as veils. Gasps erupted at the sudden end, while others clapped on.

  Her eyes watered from the smoke, widening when she saw Demarco before her, a confused expression on his face. His hand, raised to the chandelier.

  The grand fixture had been lightless before, but he sent colorful bursts straight from his palms into each dangling gem, transforming the entire ballroom so it looked like glimmering jewels chasing across the walls.

  Magic.

  It couldn’t be.

  “How are you…” Kallia looked up, mouth parted. Still hearing Demarco shouting from a distance, feeling him hold her against him. “What are you doing?”

  “Distracting them.”

  The lights remained playing against the chandelier as he grasped her by the waist, suddenly tugging her toward him, away from the center—

  “Kallia!”

  Her ears perked. The same desperate shout. She turned, and in the space between two mirrors, she saw Demarco pushing himself past guests in his path, panting and grasping the frames of the mirror to lunge forward.

  Two Demarcos.

  Exactly the same. Same height, same clothes, same expression of shock.

  One pulling her off stage, and another entering.

  Even louder hoots and whistles rang throughout the room, but blood roared in Kallia’s ears. She stilled before the man pulling her could take her any farther, staring in horror between the two of them.

  She finally faced the mirrors.

  Through the smoke, she saw herself, but it was not Demarco reflected in the mirror with her. A different figure, different height. Another man.

  Jack.

  “Get away from her!” the Demarco entering the cage snarled.

  She ripped herself away and shifted back from them both, shuddering off the feel of Jack wearing the skin of another. He couldn’t hide himself from the mirrors, his true reflection showing all across the cage.

  He was here.

  Shaking, Kallia nearly screamed when her back collided with another chest, but warm fingers gripped her elbow, steadying her. “It’s me,” he whispered, pleading. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I swear, it’s me.”

  She should’ve known sooner. All the touches that seemed different, the parts of the dance that were off. Yet she’d ignored them, falling right into Jack’s hands. And now he was here, looking at her with Demarco’s face, and a smile that was pure Jack.

  “Look at you, going to her like a guard dog.” He blew out an amused whistle. “You couldn’t even protect yourself when I swooped in.”

  Demarco glared, unblinking. “Who are you?”

  Jack chuckled, and bile crept up Kallia’s throat. She didn’t want the memory of Jack as Demarco, of his body and face and voice used like this. “Kallia’s not quite fond of talking about me to others. Isn’t that right, firecrown?”

  With the quick wave of his hands, the lights over their heads dissolved, and with it, the rest of his disguise. “I guess you could call me an old friend.”

  Still shaking, she looked away as he transformed. The sudden murmurs of bewilderment rippling across the room were enough to know he was here.

  Jack, in Glorian.

  Here, at last.

  “Excuse me, sir, but who do you think you are?” the mayor bellowed, furiously making his way through the guests. “We’ve bent the rules quite enough for this contestant, and it clearly states the final act can only be performed with—”

  “Ah, the toad who’s been giving her so much trouble,” Jack muttered by way of greeting. “What I would give if they’d just take you.”

  Kallia knew his tone, the murder it promised. “Jack, please.”

  “They’re still looking for one more.” He shrugged dispassionately. “If he’s their pick, I won’t stop them.”

  Mayor Eilin scoffed, unafraid. “Who are you?”

  In one blink, Jack was at the center of the mirrors—and the next, right in front of the mayor. He raised his knuckles out to the old man, the first time Kallia had ever seen them stripped of their rings in all the time she’d known him. “Go on, take a closer look.”

  Black symbols branded Jack’s fingers, ones he’d kept hidden all this time. She’d never once imagined anything lay beneath, but there they were in a menacing row.

  Black triangles, inked across his knuckles.

  The man’s righteous anger died. “No…” He shook his head, panicked. “No, it can’t be. The Alastors—they’re gone. Long gone.”

  “You think so, Mister Mayor?”

  The booming toll of bells began, each chime more thunderous than the last. Every familiar toll shook in Kallia’s bones with their promise.

  Darkness.

  Chaos.

  “My mercy was wasted on you and this place,” Jack said over the ominous bells, sneering. “You brought this upon yourselves.”

  A crack sounded as he punched the old man square in the face. At the sickening thud to the ground, a high-pitched scream pierced the air. Janette scrambled over and knelt by her father, desperately checking his neck for a pulse. A heartbeat.

  “You all wanted a show?” Jack stepped away from the body, already forgotten. “Looks like you’ve got it.”

  The lights dimmed. Kallia caught a flicker of movement before facing the mirror nearest to her. Black fog flooded all the frames, swarms of smoke and cloud pressing out from the other side of the glass.

  In the distance, dark figures emerged in little specks.

  Walking closer, growing larger.

  Kallia swallowed hard, shivering as she remembered. The figures she’d seen in Juno’s head. The ones Jack had shown her. Shadows she didn’t even know the names of, coming for this world.

  “What are those?” Demarco’s mouth hung in horror.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, her breath cold. “But whatever happens, we can’t let them come through those mirrors.”

  Kallia was relieved she didn’t have to explain. Demarco knew all too well the sinister nature of mirrors, the doors they could be. With a swift nod, he took off for the frame across from them, using his elbow to fracture the surface.

  Five more.

  They stumbled as Jack reappeared between them with a force that quaked into the ground. Two of the mirrors toppled over from the impact, shattering instantly. Rather than glass, a flock of black birds surged through the empty frame. Their screeches feral, flapping wings violent.

  Same as those that had plagued the theater from her disastrous second act.

  Screams filled the room as the birds flew above the guests, pecking and diving their beaks into fabric and flesh. A blur of gowns and tables overturned, people rushing for cover. Kallia spotted a wave of fire burning the birds from below—Canary, warding the creatures off with her flames. In various spa
ces of the ballroom, other Conquerors and contestants conjured the elements they could to fight back. Even Aaros fought nearby, on a table swinging the broken leg of a chair at the birds alongside the Starling twins.

  A hand wrapped around her wrist.

  “We don’t have much time.” Jack pulled at her, unfazed by the chaos. “Come with me.”

  Kallia was acutely aware of his feet crunching over broken glass, no longer trails of smoke. His touch was solid and whole. Desperate. “Let go of me.” She shook him off. “I’m not leaving.”

  “It’s not safe here, Kallia,” he murmured. “This city is going to destroy itself, we must go now.”

  In earnest, he reached for her and managed to half-vanish into nothing—before ripping out a frustrated snarl as he materialized a second later, again and again. Realizing she wouldn’t follow. She couldn’t.

  “It looks like this magic is beyond even yours, Jack. I’m bound here.” For once, it was a relief. “You can’t just take me away.”

  Whether it was fear for her or the inability of his own magic to get him what he wanted, dread ravaged his face. “I’m not leaving without you. Not here. Not with—”

  A bolt of light flew over Kallia’s shoulder, knocking Jack back into a mirror. Turning, Kallia spotted Demarco on the ground, propped up on one hand. His other hand, outstretched and scarred, glowing toward them as he bore the most rage she’d ever seen.

  The mirror crashed back, emptying the frame instantly. Releasing a wave of birds in its wake.

  Kallia’s heart gripped painfully, and she staggered to her knees.

  What was happening?

  Her pulse raced in her ears, her vision dimmed.

  “You feel it, now?” Jack faltered onto one knee beside her, jaw clenched. “You finally see?”

  She ignored him. He would never stop trying to trick her. On an angry breath, Kallia used his back as leverage to push herself up and force him back down to the ground.

  Only two mirrors left. The darkened figures behind them were already pressing their shadowy fingers against the surface.

  “Stay with him, Kallia, and he will destroy you and everything you could be,” Jack seethed. “That weakness, blooming inside you—you know where that came from, don’t you? Who started it?”

  Lies

  Truths

  Come to us

  We’ll show you the difference

  “Shut up!” Kallia screamed, the voices swirling around her. Her vision, purpling at the edges. “What … what did you do to me?”

  “I would never steal magic from you. Not like him.”

  The screams of the ballroom fell to silence. No hint of trickery on Jack’s face, only pity. A whisper of it.

  Her thoughts blurred, chest tightening with each pained pant. “No.” Her voice broke. “No, you’re wrong. You’re lying.”

  He must be.

  He had to be.

  Tears burned in her eyes as Demarco shouted her name, and she could no longer make sense of anything. Only the exhaustion, sweeping through her so suddenly she found herself sliding against the empty mirror frame to the floor.

  “Kallia!”

  She barely touched the ground, pulled quickly against a chest, a familiar scent. Demarco’s arm was riddled in scars, bleeding lightly, but he held out his hand protectively before them. A bright light emanated from his open palm, aimed at Jack.

  Jack.

  “Wait.” Kallia didn’t know what she was saying, as she tried pulling Demarco’s arm away. Do not prove him right. Please. “No, stop—”

  The light flew from his palm and Jack ducked away from its collision with the mirror.

  At the shattering impact, Kallia cried out.

  A breathless scream, locked in her throat.

  Pain, eating her heart from the inside.

  Pain she’d sensed time and again, only to realize it now, stripping her away.

  “What’s wrong?” Demarco whispered, fear bending to rage. “What did you do to her?”

  Kallia edged back, cradling herself tightly. His brow crinkled in hurt as he went to her—only to find he could no longer move.

  Steps ahead, Jack kept his hand lifted. “Ask yourself the same question, magician. You’ve done quite enough. You gave her a chance in this inane competition, had the nerve to pose as a mentor…” Through a grimace, he kept Demarco in place. “When you’re nothing more than a fraud.”

  Demarco faltered as the words struck him. Arrows stabbing their targets. She didn’t want to look at his face, watch the truth ripple across him as it burned away inside her.

  She’d known.

  She’d known that he’d had no magic, until he came to Glorian.

  Until he’d met her.

  “No.” Kallia’s mouth trembled. The same man she’d seen every day since she got here. A stranger now, like he once was. “Your magic, and mine…”

  Demarco continued pushing against the force staying him, but he blinked long and hard in confusion as if he didn’t know.

  What if he didn’t? a voice teased, from the mirror shards or simply from the back of her mind. She could not tell anymore, but it didn’t matter.

  The damage was done.

  She felt it deep inside her, the parts of her that hadn’t been the same in a long time. Her petals growing bitter and dry, falling little by little, day by day.

  “It’s not gone forever.”

  Jack had a way of knowing the questions that bit at her from a glance. “Around magicians like him, it might be,” he said, helping her to her feet. “But if you come back with me, it may not be too late. We can escape this.”

  Two choices.

  Both came with the promise of ruin, already in motion. Destruction reigned in the Court of Mirrors, crashing down all around her. People in tattered gowns and suits sprinted for the doors, birds wreaking havoc over their heads. Screams and hysterical crying in endless reels, the bursts of fire and collapsing chandeliers. And still, the creatures attacked. No end in sight.

  A third choice.

  “How can I stop this?”

  His dark eyes flashed. “This only ends by giving them what they want, and that’s out of the question. You leave while you still can, that’s how you survive it.”

  Something of a memory creeped over his face, killing the cowardice of the words. He ruled by necessity; survival from what, she didn’t know. “Tell me.” Her breath shook. “Because I’m not leaving. I can’t.”

  “I’ll figure something out. Just let me…” He raked a hand through his hair, glowering at Demarco. At the mayhem all around them. “You deserve more than this, firecrown. More than him, more than this place and its people.”

  She laughed, bitterly. Even when she could barely stand, he still managed to uphold her as someone with power, worthy of more. “You can always leave,” she said. “You don’t even have to watch if you don’t want to.”

  “You don’t have to save them.” His scowl deepened at her suggestion. “Save yourself first, Kallia. That’s the only way out.”

  And the loneliest. All too sharply, she remembered how alone she felt the night she left Hellfire House. When she’d had nothing to lose, nothing real of her own—the choice had been so easy. She’d needed no one else but herself, her power. Like she was always taught.

  Then the others came.

  Aaros and Canary.

  The Conquering Circus and Ira.

  Demarco.

  Turning slowly, she glanced at him. It hurt to look at him now, at any of them. All trapped here, same as she was, but she knew cages. She’d grown up behind bars all her life, and had escaped one before.

  She could escape again, with more power this time.

  “No.” She spun around, facing Jack. No more running, no more hiding. “It’s not.”

  Kallia clasped her hands against his jaw, bending his face so he could see her. He startled at her touch. It brought out something soft in him, the storm in his eyes quieting, trying to understand. He almost looked
the way he did before, when it was just them. Before Glorian or the competition. Back when she trusted him, when a chandelier at night was all she had.

  More.

  There was so much more now.

  With an apology on her breath, Kallia pushed him through the mirror.

  Locked in his embrace, she fell with him into the dark.

  * * *

  Daron’s hoarse cry was drowned by the mirror’s shatter. No birds emerged from the frame. Those ravaging the ballroom had vanished altogether. And the tolling bells, silent as well. As if they had never rung. As if it had all been a trick.

  One moment, both of them stood there.

  Now, there was only shattered glass and an empty frame.

  Impossible. He staggered over to the last broken fixture, taking in the frame. Fallen rosebuds and shards crunched beneath his shoes, but no spots of blood betrayed a pair of magicians crashing through its surface.

  As if they’d simply disappeared together.

  Vanished.

  “No.” His heart stopped. He couldn’t move or see past the frame, the entire world around him gone still. “No, no, no.”

  She couldn’t be gone, just like that.

  Not like this.

  “What happened to her?” Aaros had landed next to him, his hair a wreck and face a mess of small scars and cuts. He began digging through the scraps of mirror with his bare hands. “Where is she?”

  “I…” It was the question his first therapist had asked after Eva disappeared, humoring him. It crushed him, the truth. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Aaros grabbed him by the collar. “You were right here.”

  “They went through the mirror.” His voice faded to his own ears, so hollow it was as though someone else were talking for him. “They could be anywhere.”

  “Then find her—work your magic and bring her back!”

  Do something. Do anything.

  Daron’s throat tightened under his unrelenting grip. Aaros didn’t know. Nobody could’ve overheard Kallia’s teacher, with the chaos that had overtaken the ballroom. And yet the guests of the party emerged, gathering around the empty mirror frames. All shaken, yet watching Daron as if he had something to answer for.