When Night Breaks

by Janella Angeles

  “Stay in your corner, mirror boy.” Vain tilted her head. “If new arrivals can’t take a little bite, better to find out now then later.”

  “Is this what you call bite?” Kallia said through a clenched smile.

  Vain snorted. “Lucky for you, this is only a taste.”

  And to think, Kallia had been about ready to bow down to this girl and the rest of the Diamond Rings like everyone else in the room. Not even the mayor had been half as scathing when they’d first met in Glorian.

  “Let me guess, you marched right in here to demand an audience with the Dealer.” the Diamond Ring drawled, bemused. “Tough luck. All of the pieces have not been assembled yet. And I’m afraid, Herald, there’s still one—”

  He lifted a knowing hand. “Just wait for it.”

  On cue, the doors burst open as though by a gust of wind. Only a few spectators turned at the interruption, though no one appeared alarmed in the slightest at the circle of strange figures walking in. Strange, for they donned top hats and sophisticated dark suits but possessed no faces. No flesh.

  Kallia frowned as they approached, nearing close enough that she could make out the top hats sitting atop gathered smoke. Faceless. Nightmares in the guise of gentlemen, from their velvet gloves atop canes to the silky cravats at their necks.

  They had to be illusions. They were too unnerving not to be, especially as they herded someone within their ring as if guiding a prisoner to their cell.

  As Kallia squinted, struggling to see who was trapped within, Vain laughed again. “You needed the help of lower devils, mirror boy?”

  “They’re the only ones powerful enough to probably hold him.” Herald sighed sharply. “And I did my share, it’s not like I came here empty-handed.”

  Kallia stopped searching.

  His grip remained on her arm. The moment she looked down at it, her heart stilled at what had been there all along. A familiar row of sinister shapes marked across his knuckles.

  Black triangles.

  Kallia pulled back, her gaze darting between them and the shadow gentlemen—whoever they’d entrapped in their circle. “What the…?”

  In the space between the top hats, her eyes locked with brown so dark, it was near black.

  Jack.

  Something in her snapped. Cracked.

  “Don’t come near me.” Kallia backed away, fists balled at her sides. She had to get out of there. Especially when she swore she saw the ice in Vain’s mask thaw with what might’ve been a sliver of pity.

  Run.

  “Don’t make this any harder, Kallia. It’s not worth it.” Herald made no attempt to restrain her again, which meant running would lead nowhere. Especially as he knew her name when she’d never once given it.

  The trap had been all around her, and she’d walked right into it.

  “Let him out,” Herald called out with the crook of a finger, and the shadow gentlemen broke formation. No belligerence in their stance, not that there was any need when their prisoner walked out without a fight was telling enough. If even Jack saw no point in trying to get past them, then they were forces worth fearing.

  Once their gazes met, there was no letting go. Whatever question seared behind her eyes, there was no answer in his. Only a whisper of worry, the slightest crack in those pools of dark ice.

  “So this is the great and powerful Jack…,” Vain murmured. Her heels clicked slowly as she waltzed right up to him. Whatever venom she’d bottled for Kallia, she’d stored a surplus just for him as she looked him up and down. “Pity. From what I’ve heard and seen, I figured you would be more fearsome in person.”

  Jack blinked, the worry gone from his eyes. All stone now. “I didn’t realize the Dealer got his sideshows to field guests for him.”

  Applause shattered the air behind them, causing Vain’s knife of a smile to sharpen. “Do we look like a sideshow to you?”

  She tilted her head at the Diamond Rings still performing behind her before crossing her arms. Kallia’s pulse raced at the marks branded across her long fingers: black triangles that moved as she tapped her glowing green nails.

  All of them bore black triangles.

  A warning. An omen. Kallia knew what those marks meant in Glorian.

  Here, they could mean anything.

  “As much as I’d love to stay and watch this tragedy unfold, we’ve got another set to prepare for later.” Vain was the first to draw away with a soft laugh, stopping only to pat Kallia on the arm. “Though a word of advice, it might be best to look away from the mirrors for now. Wouldn’t want your head to explode.”

  Kallia’s skin prickled as she took the bait, unable to help herself.

  And she froze.

  Now that the Diamond Rings had left their stage, the walls of the Court of Mirrors came fully alive. It was the grandest collection of mirrors—ornate frames large and small, fitted like a spectacular glassy puzzle—all alight, reflecting other moving images that could not be. Reflections of faces peering forward to straighten their ties or apply a touch more rouge to their cheeks. Some young partygoers striking poses with a ruffle of their skirts or the smooth buttoning of suit jackets. Private moments, intimate ones. Windows into different lives, scattered across the walls.

  Many of which glowed with Kallia’s face.

  It was like watching herself in many dreams. There she was, trying on dresses in Ira’s shop, avoiding her own reflection. Another, just a hint of her face as she pulled a velvet curtain over the surface. One displayed her face hardened in concentration while she levitated the dagger onstage, and a sliver of her laughing in the Prima Cafe with her friends. A captured moment of her descending the steps into a party in the same scarlet gown that hung mostly in tatters over her now.

  Fleeting moments, all around. Jack appeared in some, too—but the one that stood out most was a group of mirrors piecing together a vision of Kallia, holding his face close. A word on her lips, a breath falling from his.

  “You deserve more than this, firecrown.”

  Kallia couldn’t tell where his faint words echoed from.

  From her head, or the mirrors.

  “More than him, more than this place and its people…”

  Her stomach churned harder at a bitter answering laugh so much like hers. At their faces surrounding them, memories replaying to the delight of the audience now turning to the walls like a new show had begun.

  Theirs.

  “About time you’ve arrived.”

  The stranger’s voice forced Kallia to spin around. Behind her stood a complete stranger grinning too warmly, too widely, clasping his hands together. “The mirrors do not do you justice, my dear.”

  Kallia could hardly speak or do much more than take him in. His richly embroidered suit was more subtle than those she’d seen tonight, overwhelming more in presence than appearance. Burly build, silver peppered into near-black hair slicked back like a curved cap against his scalp. Outside a neatly trimmed beard, the smooth brown skin gave him a youthful air, but there were creases and lines weathering his face. Nothing about him rang with a memory, except his eyes. There was something familiar there. Peculiar.

  “Are you the Dealer?” Kallia was amazed she could talk at all. From the way the others edged back from him subtly, as though moving aside for a king, he had to be.

  Which was why she forced herself to keep still as the man’s large outstretched hand hovered by her cheek.

  “I’m far more than that, Kallia.” He chuckled. “As are you.”

  The loud snap of his fingers gusted cold air around them. Smoke filled their surroundings, the feel of a velvet glove on her shoulder.

  A shadow gentleman, at her back.

  “Save yourself first, Kallia…”

  The faint words echoed all around the Court of Mirrors. Or perhaps they rose straight from memory. She could no longer discern between the two as her mind spun, and her body shook. Not in pain, but with the sheer emptiness filling her. As though she were dissolving.


  Disappearing.

  Her panicked stare found Jack, held by a devil behind him as well. She didn’t know why, what she hoped to find, but desperately, she looked for something. Anything.

  “That’s the only way out.”

  And then nothing, as everything went black.

  9

  Wake up.

  All Kallia wanted was to find herself beneath the sheer canopy of her bed in the Prima. Or the aged ceilings laced in cobwebs of the Ranza Estate, her head resting against Demarco’s chest. Something she knew. Familiar.

  The ache for it was too much. She could almost feel the warmth against her cheeks. The smell of fire, the sound of it softly crackling. No more applause or music from the Court of Mirrors closing in around her like a cage.

  Until laughter and the clinking of glasses reeled through the air.

  “Cheater!”

  Kallia winced at the shout, the pang in her chest. Dread flowed back into her veins as her eyes blinked open.

  Everyone that had been around her remained in place, except for the Court of Mirrors. Instead of dark, booze-stained beneath their feet was all marble pearlescent tiling streaked with gold. As jarring a shift as the whole room now around them.

  Without moving a step, they somehow now resided in an area swathed in green, meandering into different sections—what appeared to be a long window to the far end overlooking a view of flashing lights, a fire burning atop a large gold dish hanging from the ceiling, and velvet chairs and tables spaced across the room. Some empty, others occupying no more than a few people casually lounging back.

  Nearest to them, one card game occurred between a small group by the fire. Or perhaps ended, from the way one young man with deep purple hair sat back and sulked.

  “I didn’t even have to try to cheat.” His opponent triumphantly threw his cards down. “Stick to making music, maestro. Your lovesick devotees will thank you.”

  “At least I have devotees.” The purple-haired gentleman’s posh accent dragged out the last note—cut off the moment he noticed the sudden arrivals. The others straightened in their seats as well, laughter dying instantly. Even those sitting in the tables farther back stopped what they were doing to catch a look.

  Kallia nearly startled at the arm looping within hers, the too-strong hit of cologne warming the air. The Dealer reassured her with a pat on the elbow. “Carry on,” he said, beaming out at them in curiosity. “We’re just passing through.”

  “With new meat, apparently?” the man with purple hair asked, brow raised.

  They all had their brows arched high, it seemed.

  “If you’re worried already, children, then perhaps you should spend less time in the Green Room and keep practicing.” The Dealer let out a rueful snort, nodding at Herald and the devils to follow. “And no interruptions.”

  Kallia could barely catch their reactions, she and Jack were led so swiftly into the next room. But she’d seen enough, felt the tension roiling in the air. Whatever lay behind their close watch was not curiosity, but a watchfulness.

  The look predators wore when unsure of what had just strolled into their domain. A fellow threat, or their next feast.

  “The vultures are in fine form tonight, Roth,” Herald muttered as he closed the doors behind them.

  “Headliners are always bored on nights that aren’t theirs.” With a shrug, the Dealer strode deeper into the room. Far more intimate than the immense lounge outside, but still carrying its own grand air. The spacious study was fortified by walls wrapped in a thick black material ridged like the skin of a snake. Candle sconces dotted every corner, melded into the shape of hands with claws. The only furniture in sight was the black wooden desk that dominated the room on wooden paws, as if any moment now they would start prowling about.

  The Dealer took his time making his way behind it, humming a pleasant tune under his breath. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  A sudden grunt with a hard slam shook the room, forcing Kallia back, her pulse racing. The two devils accompanying their party shoved Jack into the wall, holding back his arms. While he didn’t struggle, he was absolutely fuming from every sharp intake of breath.

  “Roth—call them off,” Jack hissed, face pressed to the wall. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

  Her jaw nearly dropped.

  The devils only tightened their hold on him. Any more force, and they could easily dislocate both his shoulders if they wanted to.

  Kallia never thought such a sight was even possible: Jack, apprehended. Overpowered.

  It was far too good to be true. She was almost convinced it was an illusion.

  “Oh, but you’ve done enough.” Lighting a pipe from across the desk, the Dealer let out a slow reel of smoke in a misty coil that trailed all the way to Jack. “Call it a necessary precaution, as you’ve clearly developed such a disappointing penchant for lying and trickery we never saw coming,” he tutted, waving him away. “Take him outside for now, but keep a close watch. I’ll deal with him later.”

  His tone, the way Herald nodded swiftly and strode toward the door with the devils following suit, carried an ominous note.

  “Wait.” Jack turned, eyes wide. Reaching. “Kallia—”

  “You’ve done enough harm.” The man rested the pipe on an elaborate tray that hadn’t been there before. “And clearly, she agrees.” For the first time, Jack didn’t make it easy. Even against devils dragging him out, he refused to go quietly without one last look back. At Kallia.

  That mask he firmly wore had crumbled, and only searing panic lay beneath. As though there was so much he wanted to do, to say to her in that moment.

  He’d had more than enough. Enough moments, enough time. He was only trying to save himself now. Like always.

  Her insides unclenched when the devils finally pushed him right out the door with Herald. As the doors swung closed, a few heads of the other people lounging outside leaned over and peeked in to see what they could.

  Before the door finally shut, leaving Kallia with the Dealer.

  Alone.

  The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fireplace and the weary sigh that followed.

  “Apologies, my dear. I imagined our first meeting would be far more regal than that.” The Dealer gave a sheepish laugh, gentle as a knife slicing into soft flesh. He lowered into a grand seat she swore had not been behind the desk before, crooking a finger upward that lifted a full wineglass seamlessly from the surface of the table. “Would you like one, too?”

  She certainly could use one right now, but she didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him, or anything around her.

  Even with Jack gone, it still didn’t mean she was safe.

  Every so often she glanced at the door, not far from where she stood. The fact that this man didn’t mind her walking about freely or had none of his devils stay by to keep her in check told her she wouldn’t make it far even if she tried. Especially with all those people waiting outside.

  And her magic, being what it was.

  Kallia pressed her teeth together until her jaw went numb. The surge of helplessness, constant and never-ending, ran through her like bile.

  A wineglass suddenly emerged on her side of the table, and she glared even harder at it. “I didn’t say I wanted one.”

  The Dealer snorted in genuine amusement. “Then let me offer it. I can only guess what lies that beast has told all your life. Jack.” He spat out the name, tapped the pipe against his lips before taking another inhale. “We never saw it coming. He’d been so obedient and loyal before. What have you done with him?”

  He chuckled once again.

  It took everything in Kallia not to throw her wineglass right in his face. “I didn’t do anything, nor did I make him.”

  All she wanted was to know what the hell was going on, but that slow tide of anger rose within her. The idea that she deserved even a morsel of blame for the things Jack had done, the life she’d lived in a gilded cage and all that came with it, enraged her. Es
pecially when presented as a joke.

  “If someone wants to make terrible decisions, that is their terrible choice,” she seethed through gritted teeth. She couldn’t influence Jack, any more than she could manipulate the skies. “No one else’s.”

  “True, very true. But depending on how you can use it, you really shouldn’t underestimate your power, my dear,” he added, setting his pipe down in favor of his wine. “It’s impressive that he even cares at all. Didn’t think him capable of that, either.”

  Kallia’s nostrils flared. If he was testing her, studying her reactions to see beyond them, she wanted to move on. And yet, part of her couldn’t deny the relief of being in a world that for once saw Jack exactly as she did. A monster of a magician. A liar.

  And right now, he wasn’t holding all the strings over her head. The very person puppeteering this world sat right in front of her, offering her food and drink.

  Whatever his interest might be, she could use that.

  “Please sit.” At the Dealer’s nod, velvet brushed the backs of Kallia’s legs. A lush, turquoise chair waited behind her where there hadn’t been one before. “I’m sure you must have many questions. And you’re no doubt famished after your journey.”

  Lowering into her seat, Kallia was certain her stomach had never felt emptier. Though in a matter of seconds, platters of all kinds began rising to the top of his desk—a tray of mini high-tiered cakes frosted like art, a crystal bowl of steaming jade-green rice, a large roasted chicken rubbed in some scarlet-gold spice, mounds of golden toasted breads molded into towers with butter dripping down its sides, and even more delights just as grand. Almost too beautiful to consume.

  “I know it’s not much—given our meager table settings—but please, help yourself. Feel at home.” He waved a hand all across the feast, wafting all the smells toward him. “Don’t worry, our food and drink don’t curse or poison or entrap in any way. I know mortals can get so paranoid about such rumors, but those are old tales. When it comes to such delights, we only aim to enjoy.”

  Savory scents swirled all about her, yet Kallia kept her hands firmly in her lap. It felt all too inviting, too much like forbidden fruit for the taking. Especially when it came from someone with a penchant for dealmaking.