When Night Breaks

by Janella Angeles

  This had to be a trick. Eva or not, Vain played games as well as anyone in this world. And Kallia had walked into enough traps to recognize the walls. “Why are you giving me this?”

  “You don’t want it?”

  After the duel, she couldn’t understand why they would want her.

  Since their first performance, she’d always known the Diamond Rings as an act to watch. To envy. Much like the Conquering Circus, but distinct as the seasons. Where the Conquerors arrived on the stage in a blaze of chaos and color, the Diamond Rings made their entrance like thrown knives that never missed. They exuded precision and power. Poise and poison. None of which Kallia possessed anymore.

  At this point, she was just waiting for the joke. Some new cruelty to begin. “You all saw me last night. I lost.”

  “Just because you didn’t win doesn’t mean you don’t show promise.” Vain shrugged. “Given how little time you had to prepare, you were … definitively not terrible.”

  It had to be the closest thing to a compliment Kallia had ever received from her.

  “Also, Filip’s an asshole,” Malice added. “A nasty dueler, like all of his idiots. Most of which, very predictably, are awful in bed.”

  Their laughter reeled over Kallia, which shook the chain and the hoop it held. It happened so fast, so sudden, there was no time to scream.

  Her grip broke.

  And she fell into nothing.

  A storm of wind rushed through her hair. Her limbs flailed, grasping at the air. The Diamond Rings grew smaller and blurred as she plummeted to the bottom where pain awaited.

  Nothing to catch her. No one to save her.

  She was going to die with an audience.

  Teeth clenched, Kallia braced herself for impact. The fine links of the necklace brushed her fingers like a shock of lightning.

  Please.

  She ripped the chain off. Threw it forward, as Vain had done.

  A loud burst forced her back, her eardrums popping at a painful pace.

  All noise and sensation and wind until the world stopped. Time froze, and the air stilled. Kallia clung to the only thing she could, shocked to find anything, much less the thick, curved metal, humming against her hand, steadying her.

  Lifting her.

  Her eyes flew open as she took in the large, long-chained hoop helping her ascend to the applauding Diamond Rings above.

  Impossible. This was no magic Kallia had ever touched before. If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn that life flickered within the apparatus, rising on its own accord. Almost sentient. Even the long chain’s end inexplicably disappeared through the ceiling as though encountering nothing but smoke, though clearly finding purchase within it.

  “Works every time.” Ruthless clapped her hands the instant Kallia rose within earshot. “The rings never fail.”

  “Are you serious?” Fuming, every furious breath raked up Kallia’s throat. She wanted down. Or at the very least, to drag one of them down with her. “I could’ve—”

  “You were in no danger.” Draped in a sitting position, Vain kicked out her legs to swing back and forth. “To really fly, mortal, you first have to fall. Had to see if you could act quickly. Your ring, too.”

  Once she came to a full stop, Kallia blinked at the sleek metal framing her, keeping her afloat. “What is this thing?”

  “That thing saved you.” Ruthless pouted, giving her ring a gentle caress. “And now it’s yours, so you better get used to it. It’s going to become your new best friend with every show, every practice…”

  On and on she went, until Kallia held up a hand. “This might come as a shock, but I don’t want to be one of you,” she bit out. “I don’t want to be anything in this city.”

  She just wanted to go back to the one she knew.

  To go back to a time when she wasn’t like this.

  “That is a shock.” Malice sniffed. “Everyone wants to be us.”

  Vain sent the girl spinning with the kick at her hoop, sliding her narrowed stare back on Kallia. “So what will you do if you go off on your own, then? Think you have enough power to stop what’s coming? What Roth has planned for you?”

  Clearly she had plans for Kallia, which left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “And now that your trusty bodyguard is also no longer sulking by you, your shield is gone. People will talk,” the headliner said pointedly. “Which means you need a new cover. A better one.”

  “As a Diamond Ring?” Kallia arched a brow. “As if no one will think that’s odd?”

  “I spin lies much better than you, mortal. I know what to say to get what I want. And if I want others to look away without raising too many eyebrows, then it’ll happen.” Legs crossed, the leader peered down at the main floor watching the headliners run about like ants in the dirt. “In games like these, there’s power in numbers. And without your dark wild card, seems like you could use all the players you can get.”

  Those were too many odds stacked against her. Too many chances for betrayal. “Doesn’t sound much like teamwork if you’re cornering me into it.”

  “We all want the same thing. And we all know that if Roth wins, we all lose.”

  “That’s not how it looks from here.” Kallia glowered at the group sitting atop their hoops like glittering thrones. The whole gymnasium itself—no more than a kingdom for a few. “Forgive me if I can’t believe any of you would risk your places at the top.”

  “Trust us, we are no strangers to performing at the bottom, darling. I can throw cards out in the streets with as much ease as I fall through the air here. The question is, which side is going to see you more?” Brows raised, Ruthless twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. “The true side wasn’t ready for us then, probably doesn’t even remember our names, not that it matters anymore. This is our side, our home, where anything is and should be possible for anyone. So that is what we’re risking to protect.”

  “Hear, hear.” Malice and Vain snapped their fingers, while Kallia turned to each Diamond Ring for a good look. No wonder they all banded together so seamlessly, when their stories reflected each other’s. They were not competing against one another, not when they formed the competition together. They grew from the bottom to the top together. From nameless on the true side, to unforgettable on the other side. Lottie would have such a frenzy with this information if she ever found about her missing magicians, thriving on the stages beneath the surface.

  “That’s for sure.” Malice pedaled her feet out softly, circling the group. “If you haven’t noticed, life isn’t perfect once you’ve reached the top. It only gets harder, because you can never be satisfied. Especially when you see so much more wrong in the world from there.”

  Kallia lifted an inquiring finger. “And you’re only just thinking of changing it now?”

  “Because everyone has always taken you seriously the moment you enter a room?” Vain sneered, her jaw set. “It’s hard for a few to make change when there are so many keeping everything in place to their liking. If you can’t strike fast, you strike smart at the right moment,” she trailed off. “If this show of his succeeds, it’ll be too late to do anything after. For our side, and theirs.”

  Kallia’s throat tightened under a hard swallow. For once, it was a relief to not have magic on her side. “I highly doubt I’ll be able to break the gate as he expects. My powers—”

  “That won’t stop Roth,” she muttered. “He has it in his head that you’re the answer to all of his problems, so it won’t matter whether you’re ready or not. Zarose Gate didn’t have to break the first time around to destroy everything in its path.”

  That froze Kallia to the bone.

  All it took was a crack. One night and one failed attempt on a city to leave the true side bleeding, long after the cut.

  Perhaps that was what Jack had been trying to warn her about all along, except she wouldn’t listen. She’d been too busy doubting every word he said and hearing lies where there were none. And still, h
e’d tried offering her hope where he could, no matter how the game was locked. A cornered victory.

  There was no returning to the true side when it destroyed everything and everyone around it. All the people she knew, and the ones she didn’t. The few places she’d called home, and the vast land she had yet to explore herself. A sea she’d never seen.

  Somehow, all along, she’d known she was never going back.

  “So there’s no winning in this, is there?” she said, absently tracing the path of her ring from the cold humming metal to the smooth-cut diamonds studded outside.

  “Now … I didn’t say that.”

  Kallia lifted her head, her pulse thrumming. “You have a plan?”

  A wicked smile curled Vain’s lips. “I always have a plan.”

  There was light in those words. After wading through the dark, lost for so long, light was all that mattered. And she’d gone so long without.

  For the first time since arriving in this city, Kallia felt certain of something. Of the three Diamond Rings glancing down at the main training floor while exchanging sly looks with one another. An unspoken order, a nod in response.

  Before Ruthless let out a piercing howl, jumping straight off her hoop.

  Malice quickly followed after.

  Their screams shattered the air, echoing madly throughout the gymnasium. Heads below tilted up at the disturbance, all watching in fascination as the girls fell further and further.

  Kallia’s ears perked at the rapid clink of chains beside her that ran at top speed, dropping the rings like anchors that sank after them through the empty air.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  At the suggestion in Vain’s tone, Kallia clutched at her chest, the thundering beneath her palm.

  “You need to loosen up, mortal.” The headliner’s laugh deepened. “Weren’t you once a showgirl?”

  “But—what about the plan?”

  “Part of the plan is playing the part.” Sighing, Vain eyed the figures below as the others resumed their drills across the mats. “One day, we won’t have to.”

  The headliner led with hard-earned certainty that failure was not an option, nor a passing thought in the slightest. There was power in that belief that Kallia used to carry with her.

  She wanted it back.

  The Diamond Rings continued howling all the way down, disturbing all peace. Vain snuck another peek below. “Get your battle cry ready.” She squared back her shoulders. “The longer we talk up here, the sooner they’ll start talking down there.”

  The thought of falling again, on purpose, had Kallia’s palms sweating. “When are we going to start actually training, though?”

  She needed that at least, for some credibility. She couldn’t stomach the thought of carrying a title she’d done hardly anything for, and she wasn’t opposed to the work it would take.

  This, she wanted more than anything. She wanted to be able to look down at the ground from the highest height without flinching, to jump with her eyes wide open and a fearless grin. She wanted that ability to turn falling into flying, that pressure to make her unbreakable as a diamond.

  “Don’t worry, mortal.” Vain hefted herself up to full standing position, the lean muscles of her arms straining beneath golden-brown skin. “Training began long before your feet ever touched the mat.”

  With a salute and a high screech to join the others below.

  Loyal as a soldier, her hoop followed. The endless, unbreakable rigging chain that disappeared up through the ceiling ran madly after her to keep up, stiffening into a taut line when it caught her at some point.

  Kallia glanced up at her own chain that held her aloft, still wary to trust it wouldn’t snap on her entirely. She had no idea how it was possible or what kind of magic made it so. Not that any of the answers mattered, soon after.

  The only logical step forward was to jump.

  27

  Daron plotted his escape numerous times, but Herald was always one step ahead.

  Every plan failed before it even started. The windows didn’t even need curtains, for the iron screen bolted over the glass. Every time Herald’s back was turned, Daron’s eyes went straight for the door, which had a habit of moving all around the shop like a wandering cat. He even waited wordlessly for customers to walk through, though from the never-ending silence broken by Herald’s unbothered whistling, it was clear nobody was strolling in any time soon. When he thought he’d started hallucinating the scribble of Lottie’s pen, or saw a brief flash of Aunt Cata staring at him over the glass counter, Daron had had enough of the games.

  The day Daron finally managed to catch Herald off guard with a swift punch in the face, the shop owner merely got back up and righted his nose with the efficient snap of a bone.

  Fists raised, knuckles smarting, Daron readied himself for a fight. He thought about tearing off one of the mirrors as some shield when Herald reached around to grab something in his belt, a weapon, no doubt—

  A grainy, light blue rag caught Daron in the face.

  “If you’re going to use your hands, Demarco, no use breaking them on little ol’ me,” he said. “Might as well put them to work, since you promised so nicely.”

  “Are you serious?” Daron fumed, close to tearing out his hair or punching the mirror closest to him. It would probably have more impact than the one he’d landed. “I’m not working for you.”

  “Look, I’m just trying to help you out.” Herald shrugged. “Clearly you’re bored.”

  “I’m trying to get out of here and away from you.”

  If anything could rival Daron’s fury, it was Herald’s utter and infuriating composure. “Trust me, nothing you do will get you out of this shop. I mean, just look at me.” He snorted bitterly at himself. “Glorified mirror keeper, errand boy, and bounty hunter. Or in this case, nanny.”

  Daron crossed his arms. It was the first time they’d spoken more than a grunt at each other since he’d drugged Daron. Of course, Daron had no problem with silence—the quiet rarely ever bothered him.

  Herald was the opposite, with every oddly cheery greeting he sent Daron’s way or simply whistling if only to fill the room with some sort of sound.

  When all else failed, it was the one thing Daron could use.

  “I don’t know why you’re even looking after me,” he said, tense. “If you don’t like it any more than I do, then just let me go on my way.”

  “Do you really think it works like that here? Just because we don’t want to do something, we can just choose not to? Maybe you had that freedom before over on the true side.” Herald laughed, flashing his fingers in Daron’s face. “But when you’re here, and you’ve got these, there is no choice.”

  The black triangles across his fingers were so bold, no one could miss them. Just like the markings across Jack’s fingers. “And what do those mean?”

  “If you get a job, you do the job.” With the smooth turn of his heel, Herald went toward the wall to straighten a few mirrors hanging slightly askew. “That’s the deal with the Dealer of this city. And anyone who goes back on a deal can just go off on their own merry way.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “So you can choose?”

  “If the other choice means being thrown far out of the city to find your way back to it, and essentially being left to the devils outside the gates who will siphon off your powers over time until you’re nothing but a husk of a magician,” Herald added cheerily. “No one ever really makes it back again the second time, but you know, anything is possible!”

  Daron caught his face in one of the mirrors around him, where his mouth had fallen in abject horror. And disbelief. “Devils?”

  “Ah, yes, your mortal side is sheltered from them. Lucky bastards.” Herald rolled his eyes. “I genuinely don’t know what’s worse, living in an overly protected bubble or surviving out in the wilds.” He paused to think about it for a moment. “Actually no, we may have devils, but at least we’ve got better food and clothes.”
>
  Daron still couldn’t wrap his mind around the devils. It was as if he’d woken up in his home and suddenly discovered the morning sky was purple—only to be told it had been purple all this time. Except a different-colored sky never hurt anybody. Certainly not anyone’s magic.

  Go into the woods where the devils reach, and they’ll welcome you with open arms.

  It had sounded like nonsense, when the mayor said it. Though he should’ve known better, after walking through the Dire Woods. It preyed on the pieces of him no animal would take. The parts that fed a different kind of predator.

  “Don’t worry, Demarco. I’ll save you from the big, scary devils here.” Herald threw a wink over his shoulder. “Not that it’ll ever come to that. You’re safe, because you were brought here for a very specific purpose that involves—don’t rip the rag, please, it’s my favorite color!”

  Daron hadn’t realized how the sides of the rag had bunched tightly between his fingers until he looked down. His chest practically jumped from the way his heart beat heavily beneath it. “What do you mean I was brought here?”

  He’d walked through that Dire Woods on his own. That hadn’t been his imagination. He wished it could be, but that part of his journey had been very real.

  “You don’t think you got here all on your own, do you?” The shop owner moved toward the front glass counter before casually sliding up over the surface to the other side. He fixed himself a drink in a short glass from a vibrantly green crystal bottle, before glancing at Daron’s face with a head tilt. “Oh, you do.”

  That fury coursed back into Daron’s blood. “I walked through those woods,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “For Zarose knows how long, I walked those woods until it brought me here.”

  He shivered, recalling the cold from the wind rustling through the trees, slicing at him with knifelike precision before the voices called.

  “You did.” Herald poured and nodded, not unkindly. “But who led you to those woods in the first place?”