When Night Breaks

by Janella Angeles

  If only she knew why the lines were there in the first place.

  As his hand slid to the back of her neck, he drew out this moment, taking stock of what he could: the warmth of her breath and the silk of her hair, the red of her smile that seemed to always hide a secret.

  He knew what he should do. What came next.

  Separate.

  Lips at her ear, he was ready to give her a way out with a whisper.

  It felt like falling into another dream, all over again.

  Because this time, she turned her head, and kissed him instead.

  He froze.

  This had to be a trick. A lie.

  When she breathed his name, the way she did, it made him lose sight of every line.

  The next noise she made, and she drew out of him, obliterated them.

  They were frantic as he pulled her closer, taking her in like a drug. She staggered for purchase somewhere, and he walked her back against the nearest surface. Her smile brushed over his skin, like patches of sunlight. Their breaths were heavy, the air crackling between them like a storm still on its way.

  He cupped her face with both hands, took his time studying her the way she studied him.

  The illusion and the magician.

  At the voice, he jerked back slightly as another path laid out at their feet. Whispers welcomed him by name beneath a canvas of night, beckoning him to see the rest of the story unfold—a new story, now unbroken. Another chance, another path.

  Only if he followed them. If he came back.

  If he let them in.

  You know she’ll go to him.

  You know she’ll never forgive you.

  You know you were never meant for more.

  He shoved the voice out, buried it as far as he could. Except there was something different about the silence now when he looked down at her. Leaning close, she was still waiting for him, wanting more.

  More.

  It found him like a promise in the dark, opening its eyes, when he finally answered.

  35

  Kallia didn’t think this world would be able to top the splendor of the ball, but she was proven wrong when she woke the next day and saw a new world transformed seemingly overnight.

  Lights were strung from every building, connecting everything like one large illuminated web. There were contraptions Kallia had never seen before—carousels large and small at every street corner, fashioned with impossible creatures riders could be seated on. Horses made of glass, wolves carved from ice, luminous velvet seats to make one feel as though they were lounging on a star.

  So many other amusements in the making competed for attention, it was difficult walking through this Glorian without lingering on one street for too long. A fun house boasting about ghosts and hauntings to fuel the most thrilling nightmares, a slide so tall one had to tip their heads upward, then follow the steep downhill chute that disappeared Zarose knew how deep into the ground, and a small river that had somehow been carved out around the entire perimeter of the city with offered boat rides in contraptions that looked more like birds gliding across the surface.

  After disaster struck the Court of Mirrors, Roth decided to move the festivities outdoors. Space was no issue, which meant no limits to what could be created and conjured. A promise that everyone took to heart. A few installations remained—construction hidden beneath swathes of tarp covering to guard the surprise or bursts of colorful smokes exploding through the openings. A genuine air of busyness pervaded every corner, once more bustling with magicians throwing themselves into their craft. The magicians with specialty acts practiced just as dutifully as if they managed to reserve stage time.

  It had to be why Kallia received looks of surprise as she bypassed each site.

  Like all of the headliners, the Diamond Rings secured a prime slot in the roster which would’ve landed them in the gymnasium for most of the day if their leader had anything to say about it. There was no sight of the girl at all that morning, a rarity for Vain who rose as if she still lived with the sun. The door to her room remained locked, and Kallia expected no less after last night. Just like she wouldn’t be shocked at all if the girl still managed to burst through those doors hours later, looking fresh as a gem and ready to perform.

  Still, it was early in the day. Showtime could wait.

  Hunting down Roth could not.

  When Kallia finally managed to reach the center of the city, she spotted him flanked by his devils overlooking the construction of one of the main stages scattered throughout Glorian. This one sat at the heart of it all.

  Her hands balled into fists at the sight of him. The only satisfaction in his cheery wave was how diminished he appeared after the Court of Mirrors took such a hit. Like watching a man finally thrust out of a spotlight that’s beamed down on him all his life.

  “Ah, Kallia.” At her approach, he wiped the sweat off his brow before leaning against the stage. “My dear, I heard a bit about your duel. A vast improvement, I’ve been told, which we love to hear.”

  Her victory was not hers to share with him, nor his to claim in any way. What grated on her nerves most was his tone, so damn pleased. As if everything were going according to plan.

  “… I’m sure you would’ve beat out the rest, were it not for the turn the night took.” His mouth was a slash of annoyance. “No matter, such hijinks will never happen again. I’ll make sure of it. Have you come to see the carnival early? I hear there’s a charming champagne display that—”

  “I’m not here for a pleasant chat.” Her face had not shifted from the unwavering death glare. “You brought Demarco here.”

  Her delivery was cold, detached. Stronger than she felt when inside, she was breaking, shaking harder as Roth’s smile bared teeth. “I thought you would be excited by the gift. What will help you—”

  “Help me how?” With every coy tilt of his head, she resisted the urge to spit in his face. “You promised me no one I left behind would be harmed.”

  It only hit her then, at that sly turn of his smile, how they’d struck no such bargain. Not that she had any reason to anticipate this, with the rules so set in absolutes.

  “And he hasn’t.” The man assured her. “He’s been well taken care of, and will be for the duration of his stay, of course.”

  Her jaw ticked. “What do you mean ‘duration?’”

  “Oh, it’s a temporary visit, my dear. You shouldn’t work yourself up into such a worry since the boy will be going back in no time.” Roth clasped his hands together. “We all will.”

  Her stomach plummeted under the weight of his hope that edged closer to certainty every day. Now, he had all the means to push from both sides, even without the gate.

  “Doesn’t sound like you have any need for me, then,” she said through pressed lips. “If you had the power to break the rules and bring anyone from either side all along.”

  “Oh, if I had the power.” Roth mused with a wistful expression. “Alas, I broke no rules. They change as the tides continue turning in our favor, and your boy tested the theory well by following the trail, finding his way here.…” He sighed. “I must say, even for one sour night, the Show of Hands is unmatched in making the impossible possible.”

  Cold shuddered down Kallia’s spine, imagining what else could come. The thought of him luring anyone else from the true side—Aaros or Canary—simply because he could, or the Dire Woods sprawling farther across Soltair to find more victims to take below the surface … it all sent a spike of fear through her.

  Especially when everything the Diamond Rings had done so far, to stop it all, changed nothing.

  If this meant the show was working, then the gate was coming. And from the gleam in Roth’s eyes, it was not slowing. The gentle pat he delivered on her shoulder was no comfort, but a seal of defeat.

  “I do apologize if you did not enjoy my surprise,” he said in a sunny tone, far removed from the sentiment. “But you can’t deny, it can serve as a good motivation. And you’ve been sho
wing progress with my Rings, but we need to up the ante. This gift was meant to push you further.”

  “A gift or a threat?”

  She should’ve kept her mouth shut, with all the cards he held over her head. Those reasons kept her playing to get by, but she couldn’t stand this role. Especially when it meant smiling for someone like him.

  Roth laughed, as if delighted. “That all depends on what kind of man you think I am. We are family—”

  “No.” She seethed. “We’re not.”

  He made a mockery of the word. However deep blood ran, it was no excuse for the past. And it certainly gave him no claim on her power.

  Roth squared his shoulders and released a deep breath. “Careful.” A strange gleam took hold in his eye, stranger than any she’d ever seen before, and it chilled her to the bone. “There are still so many strings I have yet to pull on you, Kallia. And you’re not the only—”

  His breath cut short at the cough that grew deep from his throat. Guttural and pained, constant as a murder crowing. Kallia paused in alarm, at the odd sound she hadn’t heard in so long, when sickness rarely existed on the other side. They were beyond such trivial mortal plights in this city.

  The man pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, catching his breath.

  Just as the shadow gentlemen at his back gathered around him, no command given. With eerily quiet precision, they took their master by the arms and hauled him up.

  Vanishing him without a word, a trace, only the damp, soiled handkerchief left on the brightly lit cobblestone.

  Kallia didn’t blink, unsure if it was a trick of the light, when the blood soaking the fabric turned black as ink.

  36

  Daron had gone to a few carnivals in his lifetime. He’d loved them as a young boy. The energy and constant laughter crackling in the air, the endless possibilities of amusements and games and rides at every corner.

  The carnival that took over the streets of the city was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and probably ever would experience in his life. Far more extravagant than Spectaculore and the Conquering Circus combined.

  Against the dark sky over their heads, strings of light drifted from the tops of every building, like veins within one body. The lights were all manner of colors, flashing in all manner of patterns. Beneath the luminous city-wide spiderweb, the carnival came alive.

  Magicians sporting sparkling headpieces enticed guests down wide alleyways leading to an opulent chandelirium that glimmered a corner of the city like daylight, to a champagne garden where flutes of flowered flavors could be plucked from the ground. Game booths sat along street walks where one could toss daggers hitting the bull’s-eye at every throw, or try on ocular devices rumored to feature spectacular views in the eye of the beholder. Smoke trailed from the food stands ensnared passersby with every scent and description heckled from behind. Cones of toasted nuts covered in spicy lovers’ chocolate, mountains of marbled candies that promised confidence and luck, sizzling meats wrapped in dough, baked into any shape you can imagine.

  Herald flicked a piece of popcorn in his face from the side. “You mortals make it so obvious,” he said, scooping another handful from his serving cup. “Your delight is so endearing.”

  Daron’s jaw snapped shut, only until they rounded a corner where the amusements grew even taller than the buildings neighboring them. A carousel of strange animals one could feed as they rode on their backs, from birds with fish scales to cats covered in flower petals. A seemingly endless roller coaster arched between fixtures, slithering up and down like a snake, throwing shadows over the guests.

  It was almost too much. One marvel after another, each grander than the last.

  Though none could hold his attention.

  Daron straightened the mask across his nose for the hundredth time, searching through the chaos. An impossible hunt in a crowd like this. He wished only to rip off his mask, to be done with disguises, if there was any chance she might be looking out for him, too.

  If. It didn’t seem likely, after the way they’d left their last conversation. His face burned just thinking of it. All of it had gone so wrong, and all he could think of afterward was seeing her again to apologize. No matter who was right, who was wrong, he wasn’t there to fight. He didn’t want to waste any more words. Any more time.

  “You won’t find her among the commoners.”

  At Herald’s remark, Daron shifted further away. It was as if the night before hadn’t happened at all, waking up in the mirror shop hours later. He resumed his quips and light banter, all carefree and easy, but Daron had no patience for it.

  “Come now, Demarco.” Herald’s eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. A dramatic whine of a sigh emerged. “Enough of your brooding. What will it take for you to stop being mad at me?”

  “Tell me what the new job is.” That was all. Whatever Roth’s new plans had shifted into after last night, whatever secrets Herald held on his boss’s behalf, Daron wanted to know. He deserved to know what piece he was meant to play. And if that information could be helpful to Kallia somehow, he had to figure it out. It was the least he could do when she never wanted him here in the first place.

  Herald’s mouth twisted in discomfort. “I can’t.”

  The same answer every time. He shouldn’t have been surprised. “You’re that deep in the man’s pockets?”

  A harsh laugh snapped back. “In case you haven’t noticed, we all are. Only a fool would pretend otherwise, or do something stupid to risk being kicked out altogether,” he said through gritted teeth. “A fate which you, my friend, have been mercifully spared from knowing. Thanks to me.”

  Daron’s fists tightened. “I’m not your friend.”

  “The fact that you’re begging me to compromise my standing to give you answers means you actually believe part of me has the heart to consider it.” Genuine amusement crossed his features. “It’s rather sweet.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Testy.” Wiping at his spectacles, Herald nodded ahead. “As your friend, I’m just saying, you won’t find your girl out and about like you and me. She’s a headliner, and headliners always get the spotlight. So follow it.”

  As he pointed forward, Daron was tempted to stalk off then. But he was not nearly proud enough for that, not in his position. He grumbled as they wound their way through the city to the main stages, one bursting with light and music and an overflowing audience at its feet; a sign high above, illuminated with glitter, as its crown.

  The Diamond Rings.

  The name rang in the back of his head from the night before, after Kallia had mentioned Eva in the same breath.

  Daron’s pulse sprinted. The entire back of the stage lit up in a hazy jade-green backdrop, so that whoever moved in front of it emerged like shadows. He followed the movement upward as a collection of hoops dropped against the screen, figures dangling off them. Some had their legs crossed, others lounged casually along the curve. Some even stood with their heels secured against the ring.

  From afar, Daron counted about six hoops and six ladies, with a large fiery hoop descending in the center. The spotlight shined on the girl within it, standing fearless as a star in the middle of the hoop, somehow not burning from the fire licking along the metal curves.

  With short hair sheared even shorter to one side, the girl who seized center stage wore a sheer mask that further emphasized the mischief behind. Rarely anyone could upstage Kallia, but this performer could compete with an entire firework display with just a smile.

  Her name was a chant on everyone’s lips.

  Vain.

  As lights washed over the rest of the Diamond Rings, the crowd went wild with hollers and whistles, growing louder as the ladies began circling their leader. Whoever worked the rigging chains that held them all aloft had their work cut out for them from the way their hoops swung with such force that gave them the illusion of birds soaring in flight.

  “Is everyone having a good time out there?” Vain’s voice boomed, a
nd a roar of approval answered. At her raspy laugh in response, Daron felt something tug within him.

  That laugh.

  He knew that laugh.

  “Don’t let them catch you frowning.” Herald clapped Daron over the shoulder as if to wake him up. “Unless you wish to become their next victim.”

  He was numbed to the screams erupting around him, could barely hear anything as the carnival echoed in his ears, as if the world had gone hollow.

  It couldn’t be.

  Blinking, he studied the girl closer, picking apart all that he could and matching them with memory—until that laugh rose again, with a strained beat of his heart.

  Eva?

  When Kallia had brought her up, it sounded almost too good to be true—that he would find both of them here, and that they had found each other. As if he’d willed it all into being, when he told Lottie.

  Emotion welled up deep in his throat as the show unfolded with Eva at the helm. She donned a different mask now than the one she’d wear during his shows, and this one suited her leagues better. Her entire face brightened beneath the jewels, matching her bold show outfit, while her lips kicked up in a sly, small smile that seemed to always hold a secret.

  She looked happy.

  The sight knocked the very breath out of him. His heart, hollow and full and racing until he felt nothing but the world turning on its axis, taking him with it.

  Until one last performer descended.

  And everything recentered, in one held breath.

  Whistles and hollers shattered the air at Kallia’s entrance as she floated down on her own sparkly hoop among the Diamond Rings. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Not from her joy, the smooth ease with which she leaned and swung within the hoop at a height that could break all her bones. Under the light, like the night before, her face was a mask of jewels, shining brighter as she smiled wickedly for the crowd.

  A star in her element. Both of them, exactly where they belonged.

  For the longest time, Daron hated himself for not just taking their magic, but this. The guilt gnawed at him so sharply, it made him sick. Every time that rose cloth came into view, its petals kept falling, like a fire slowly dying among the embers.