Caraval Series, Book 1

by Stephanie Garber

  “I’d rather keep the boat in sight.” Scarlett huddled under a nearby arch, where she could see the docks and anyone else who might arrive. “Once the rain stops we need to start searching again.”

  Julian didn’t answer right away. “I think the game, or at least your part in it, should be over. I should never have brought you here. I can take you to a safe place, off the isle—”

  “No!” Scarlett cut him off. “I’m not leaving here without my sister. After what I’ve just done, my father will be even more furious when he finds Tella, and he will take it out on her.”

  “And what about you? You’ll just keep sacrificing yourself? Marry Nicolas d’Arcy?”

  Scarlett wished she could just ignore his question. If she stayed in the game and her father caught her, he wouldn’t kill her, he’d make her marry the count, in a way that almost felt like death. But if she didn’t marry him, how else could she protect her sister? “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Julian made a sound like a growl. “So you’re still planning on going through with your engagement?”

  “I don’t know if I am or not! But what other choices do I have?”

  Sheets of silver rain fell harder.

  Scarlett waited for Julian to say something. To reassure her in some sort of way. To tell her he could be her other option. But even as she thought it, she realized how ridiculous it was. Did she really think he was going to say he wanted to sweep her away into another life, or marry her?

  When more lightning tore through the night, Scarlett had her answer. Julian stayed close by her side, but his expression was closed off. She recalled the way he’d dusted lint off his shoulder that first night. He might not have wanted her to be the count’s bride, but that didn’t mean he planned on being with her instead.

  “I’m so stupid.” Her voice danced a line between breaking and shouting. “None of this means anything to you. You saw my fiancé, got jealous, acted rashly, and now you regret it.”

  “Is that what you think?” Julian’s words came out deep and rough. “You believe I’d risk crossing your father, put you in danger like that, because I’m jealous?” He laughed, as if the jealousy were a ridiculous assumption.

  “You’re such a liar,” Scarlett snapped.

  Julian flattened his lips into a harsh line. “I’ve already told you that.”

  “No,” Scarlett said, “you lie to yourself. You pull me to you whenever it seems you’re afraid of losing me, but whenever I get too close, you push me away.”

  “I’ve only pushed you away once.” Julian’s voice hardened as he took a step closer. “I was definitely jealous, but that’s not the only reason I wanted you out of there.”

  “Then tell me what your other reasons were,” Scarlett said.

  He edged forward, until there was almost no space between them. She could feel the wet of his clothes, clinging to hers. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist, as if giving her the chance to pull away. But she’d already made her decision. Her heart beat faster as his other arm encased her, tightening around her upper back, pulling her closer to the hard planes of his chest until their lips were feeling the same cold air.

  “Is this close enough for you?” Julian’s mouth hovered over hers. A whisper shy of kissing her. “You’re sure you want this?”

  Scarlett nodded, afraid saying the wrong thing might push him away. With Julian it wasn’t about protection—she just wanted to be with him. The boy who’d saved her from drowning in more ways than one.

  His hand slid down to the small of her back, gentle and firm, slowly pulling her closer once more, while his other hand slipped under her hair and around her neck, rubbing the tender skin there, before it forged a new path.

  “I don’t want you to regret any of your choices.” Julian’s tone almost sounded pained, as if he wanted her to pull away, but everything about the way he continued to touch her made her feel the opposite. His fingers were now at her mouth, tracing the line of her bottom lip. They tasted like wood and rain, damp from running through her wet hair. “There are still things you don’t know about me, Crimson.”

  “Then tell me what they are,” Scarlett said. He’d shared about his sister and Legend, but there were obviously more shadows in his life.

  Julian’s fingers were still at her mouth. Slowly she kissed them, one by one. Just a gentle press of her lips, but she could feel how it affected him by the way his other hand gently dug into her lower back. She had to concentrate to keep her voice from turning breathless as she looked up at his face half eclipsed by darkness and said, “I’m not afraid of your secrets.”

  “I wish I could say you shouldn’t be.” Julian stroked her lip a final time, then covered her mouth with his own. Saltier than his fingers and more intense than the hand now moving down her spine or the one tightening around her waist. He held her as if she might slip through his grip, and she clung to him, loving the feel of the muscles that lined his back.

  He mumbled words against her lips, too low for her to hear, but she imagined she got a strong impression of what he wanted to say, as he coaxed her lips apart, letting Scarlett taste the coolness of his tongue and the tips of his teeth as he grazed her lower lip. Every touch created colors she had never seen. Colors as soft as velvet and as sharp as sparks that turned into stars.

  29

  That night the moon stayed out a little longer, watching with silver eyes as Julian took Scarlett’s hand and wrapped it carefully in his own. He kissed her once more, gently and deliberately, reassuring her without words that he had no intentions of letting her go.

  If this had been another sort of story they would have stayed like this, twined in each other’s arms until the sun woke up, casting rainbows across the storm-ravaged sky.

  But most of Caraval’s magic ran on time, soaking up the hours of the day and turning them into wonders at night. And this night was running out. Nearly all the glowing red beads in both of Castillo Maldito’s hourglasses had tumbled through into the bottom. Like drops of falling rose petals.

  Scarlett looked up at Julian.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I think I know what the last clue is. It’s the roses.” Scarlett recalled the vase of flowers she’d found next to the box containing her dress. Foolishly she’d assumed they’d been sent together. Scarlett didn’t know what they meant, but they were all over the game. It made sense to believe they were part of the fifth clue; they had to symbolize something besides a sick homage to Rosa.

  “We have to get back to La Serpiente and look at the roses,” she said. “Maybe there’s something on the petals, or a note attached to the vase.”

  “What if your father sees us when we go back there?”

  “We’ll take the tunnels.” Scarlett dragged Julian through the courtyard. It was already chilly out, but the air felt even colder when they reached the abandoned garden. Skeletal plants surrounded them, while the dreary fountain in the center dripped a melancholy siren song.

  “I don’t know about this,” Julian said.

  “Since when did you become the nervous one?” Scarlett teased, though she felt ochre shades of uneasy as well, and she knew it wasn’t from the garden’s enchantment.

  She’d just made a huge error by going to the haberdashery, and she wasn’t eager to make another mistake. But Aiko had been right when she’d said some things were worth the pursuit regardless of the cost. Scarlett now felt as if she were trying to rescue herself as well as Tella. She’d not given much thought to this year’s prize—the wish—but she was thinking about it now. If Scarlett did win the game, maybe she really could save them both.

  Scarlett removed her hand from Julian’s and pressed against the Caraval symbol embedded inside the fountain. Just as before, the water drained and the basin transformed into a set of winding stairs.

  “Come on.” She waved him forward. “The sun will be up any minute.” Scarlett could already picture it, bursting through the darkness, ushering in the da
wn of the day she’d originally intended to leave. And for the first time, despite all that had happened, she was glad she’d remained, because now she was determined to win the game and sail away with more than just her sister.

  Scarlett reached for Julian’s hand again as she stepped onto the stairs.

  “Why does it seem as if you’re always trying to leave the moment I show up?” Governor Dragna appeared at the other end of the neglected garden, followed by the count, whose dark hair dripped water in his eye; no longer did he appear excited by this challenge.

  Scarlett yanked Julian down the damp steps to the tunnel entrance, gripping his hand as her father and the count gave chase. She didn’t dare look behind her, but she could hear their pursuit, the thunder of their boots, the shaking of the ground, the pounding of her own heart as she spiraled down the stairs.

  “Julian, you need to go ahead of me. Find the lever to shut the tunnel, before—” Scarlett broke off as her father and the count reached the stairs. Their shadows stretched out in the golden light, clawing at her from afar. It was too late to keep them out of the tunnels now.

  But Scarlett and Julian were almost at the bottom of the steps. Scarlett could see the tunnels went off in three different directions: one lit by gold, one almost pitch-black, and the other illuminated by silver-blue.

  Ripping her arm free from his protective grasp, she pushed Julian toward the darkest tunnel. “We need to split up, and you need to hide.”

  “No—” He reached for her.

  Scarlett danced back. “You don’t understand—after tonight, my father will kill you.”

  “Then we won’t let him catch us.” Julian wove his fingers through hers and raced with Scarlett into the golden passage on the left.

  Scarlett had always liked the color gold. It felt hopeful and magical. And for a brief, shining moment she dared to dream that it was. To hope she could outrun her father, create her very own fate. And she almost did.

  But she could not outrun her fiancé.

  Scarlett felt his gloved hand band around her arm. A moment later her head snapped back, every piece of her scalp on fire as her father’s fists took hold of her hair.

  She screamed as both men tore her away from Julian.

  “Let her go!” Julian shouted.

  “Don’t take another step, or this will get worse.” Governor Dragna wrapped one hand around Scarlett’s throat as he continued pulling her hair.

  Scarlett bit back her yelp, a pained tear rolling down one cheek. From the twisted angle of her neck, she could not see her father, but she could imagine the sick look on his face. This would only get worse.

  “Julian,” Scarlett pled, “please get out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving you—”

  “Not another step,” Governor Dragna repeated. “Remember the last time we played this game? Do something I don’t like, and my darling daughter pays.”

  Julian froze.

  “Much better, but just so you don’t forget again…” Governor Dragna released Scarlett and punched her in the stomach.

  Scarlett fell to her knees as the air left her lungs. Her vision blanked as she hit the dirt. She could only feel the pain, the echo of her father’s fists, and the dirt she’d fallen into staining her hands as she struggled to stand back up.

  Around her, voices bounced off the walls. Angry ones and frightened ones, and when she stood, the world had changed.

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “Touch her again and I will—”

  “I think you missed the point of my demonstration.”

  One by one she matched the words with the men as she took in the new scene. The count’s well-groomed expression had shifted to something cloudy and uncertain as he helped Scarlett stand. Across from them, too far out of her reach, her father stood with a knife to Julian’s throat.

  “He just won’t stay away from you,” said Governor Dragna.

  “Father, stop this,” Scarlett rasped. “I’m sorry I ran away. You have me. Just let him go.”

  “But if I let him go, how do I know you’ll behave?”

  “I agree with your daughter,” said the count, his arm now curling around her, almost protectively. “I think this is going a little too far.”

  “I’m not going to kill him.” Governor Dragna’s eyes crinkled at the edges as if they were all being unreasonable. “I’m only giving my daughter a little extra incentive not to run away again.”

  A slick mud-colored feeling coated Scarlett’s insides as her father adjusted the knife. She thought nothing could be as painful as watching him hit Tella, but the blade, so close to Julian’s face, created a whole new world of terror. “Please, Father.” She trembled and shook with every word. “I promise, I’ll never disobey you again.”

  “I’ve already heard that worthless vow, but after this I think you’ll finally keep it.” Governor Dragna licked the corner of his lips as he flicked his wrist.

  “Don’t—”

  The count clamped a gloved hand over Scarlett’s mouth, muffling her screams as her father slashed his dagger across Julian’s beautiful face. From his jaw, across his cheek, all the way up to below his eye.

  Julian sucked in a cry of pain as Scarlett fought to reach him. But she was powerless to do more than kick, and she feared her father would do more damage to Julian than he already had. She’d probably shown too much emotion as it was.

  Scarlett waited for Julian to fight back. To grab the knife. To run away. She remembered his rows of sharply defined brown muscles. She imagined, even bleeding and injured, he could overpower her father. But for a boy who had started out so selfish, he now seemed determined to keep his ridiculous word and stay with her. He stood stoically as a wounded statue while Scarlett crumbled inside.

  “Now, I think we’re done,” said her father.

  “You know”—Julian turned to the count, speaking through a bloody smile—“it’s pathetic when you have to torture a man just to get a woman to be with you.”

  “Maybe I was wrong about being finished here.” Governor Dragna lifted his knife once more.

  Scarlett tried to break free from the count, but his arms stayed bound around her chest, cutting into her like ropes.

  “You’re not making this any better,” the count hissed. Then louder, to her father, in a tone that sounded bored, “I don’t think that’s necessary. He’s just trying to get a rise out of us.” The count smirked as if he couldn’t have cared less about Julian’s words, yet Scarlett could feel the quickening of his heart and the heat of his rapid breath against her neck, even as he added, “And for the saint’s sake, give the man a handkerchief; he’s dripping blood everywhere.”

  The governor tossed Julian a tiny square of cloth, but it was barely enough to soak up the blood. Scarlett could see the droplets fall to the ground as their grim party began trudging forward.

  The entire journey back to La Serpiente, Scarlett tried to think of ways to escape. Despite his wound, Julian was still strong. Scarlett imagined he could have easily run away, or at least tried to fight back. But he marched silently by her father’s side while the count clutched Scarlett’s limp hand.

  “It’s going to be all right,” the count whispered.

  Scarlett wondered what type of delusional world he must live in to think such a thing. She almost hoped they’d find a dead body again, giving her the chance to break away. She loathed herself for the idea, but it didn’t stop her from thinking it.

  When they emerged from the tunnel into Tella’s razed room, the count made an effort to dust off his coat, while Scarlett debated the benefits of running. It was clear her father had no intention of letting Julian go. He eyed Julian the way a child might ogle his younger sister’s doll right before chopping off all its hair, or its head.

  “I’ll release him tomorrow, at the end of the night, after you’ve behaved yourself.” Governor Dragna wrapped an arm around Julian’s shoulder, while the cloth held to Julian’s cheek continued dripping blood.


  “But, Father, he needs medical attention!”

  “Crimson, don’t worry about me,” Julian said.

  Obviously, he didn’t know how much worse this could get.

  Scarlett tried a final time. She could see no way out of this for her, but maybe it wouldn’t be too late for Julian. If he got away, he could still save Tella, too. “Please, Father, I will do whatever you wish, but you have to let him go.”

  Governor Dragna grinned. This was exactly what he wanted to hear. “I already said I’d release him, but I don’t think he wants to leave yet.” He squeezed Julian’s shoulder. “Do you feel like leaving us alone, boy?”

  Scarlett tried to meet Julian’s eyes, tried to beg him to leave with a look, but he was being more stubborn than ever. Scarlett wished he’d turn back into the careless young man she’d met on Trisda. His selflessness would accomplish nothing here unless he had a death wish.

  It seemed it was up to her to find a way to end this.

  “I’ve got nowhere else I need to be,” Julian said. “Are we all going to go upstairs now, or do you plan to have us sleep in here?”

  “Oh, we’re not sleeping together—at least, not all of us.” Governor Dragna winked and a tremor went through Scarlett. He was looking at her with the type of expression that might have lit up another person’s face before bestowing a gift—but Governor Dragna’s presents were never pleasant.

  “Count d’Arcy and I have been sharing a suite, but it’s too cramped for four people. So the sailor will stay with me in there, and Scarlett”—Governor Dragna drew his words out in slow, unmistakable syllables—“you’ll be sleeping in your own room with Count d’Arcy. You’ll be married soon enough,” he went on. “And your fiancé has paid quite a sum for you. I don’t see why I need to make him wait any longer before enjoying what he’s bought.”

  Scarlett’s horror escalated as her father’s mouth slanted into a new smile. This was so far from how she’d imagined things. It was horrid enough that she’d been purchased like a sheep, that a price had been placed on her, saying this was all she was worth. “Father, please, we’re not married yet, this isn’t proper—”