Caraval (Caraval, #1)
Stephanie Garber
To my mom and dad, for teaching me the meaning of unconditional love
THE ISLE OF TRISDA
1
It took seven years to get the letter right.
Year 50, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Mister Caraval Master, My name is Scarlett, but I’m writing this letter for my sister, Donatella. It’s going to be her birthday soon and she would very much like to see you and your amazing Caraval players. Her birthday is the 37th day of the Growing Season and it would be the most wonderfulest birthday ever if you came.
Most hopefully,
Scarlett, from the Conquered Isle of Trisda
Year 51, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Mister Caraval Master, It’s Scarlett again. Did you get my last letter? This year my sister says she’s too old to celebrate birthdays, but I think she’s just upset you never came to Trisda. This Growing Season she’ll be ten and I’ll be eleven. She won’t admit it but she’d still very much like to see you and your wondrous Caraval players.
Most hopefully,
Scarlett, from the Conquered Isle of Trisda
Year 52, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Caraval Master Legend, I’m sorry I got your name wrong in those other letters. I hope that’s not why you haven’t come to Trisda. My little sister’s birthday wasn’t the only reason I’ve wanted you to bring your amazing Caraval players here, I’d love to see them too.
Sorry this letter is short, my father will be angry if he catches me writing to you.
Most hopefully,
Scarlett, from the Conquered Isle of Trisda
Year 52, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Caraval Master Legend, I just heard the news and I wanted to send my condolences. Even though you still haven’t come to Trisda or responded to any of my letters, I know you’re not a murderer. I was very sorry to hear you won’t be traveling for a while.
Most kindly,
Scarlett, from the Conquered Isle of Trisda
Year 55, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Master Legend,
Do you remember me, Scarlett, from the Conquered Isle of Trisda? I know it’s been a few years since I wrote. I heard you and your players have started performing again. My sister told me you never visit the same place twice, but a lot has changed since you visited here fifty years ago, and I truly don’t believe anyone would like to see one of your performances more than I would.
Most hopefully,
Scarlett
Year 56, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Master Legend,
I heard you visited the capital of the Southern Empire last year and changed the color of the sky. Is that true? I actually tried attending with my sister, but we’re not supposed to leave Trisda. Sometimes I believe I’ll never go farther than the Conquered Isles. I suppose that’s why I’ve wanted you and your players to come here so badly. It’s probably futile to ask again, but I do hope you’ll consider coming.
Most hopefully,
Scarlett, from the Conquered Isle of Trisda
Year 57, Elantine Dynasty
Dear Master Legend,
This will be my final letter. I’m going to be married soon. So it’s probably best you and your players don’t come to Trisda this year.
Scarlett Dragna
Year 57, Elantine Dynasty Dear Scarlett Dragna,
from the Conquered Isle of Trisda— Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I am sorry I cannot bring my players to Trisda. We’re not traveling this year. Our next performance is by invitation only, but I would look forward to meeting you and your fiancé if you could find a way to leave your isle and join us.
Please accept the enclosed as a gift.
From the pen of Caraval Master Legend
* * *
2
Scarlett’s feelings came in colors even brighter than usual. The urgent red of burning coals. The eager green of new grass buds. The frenzied yellow of a flapping bird’s feathers.
He’d finally written back.
She read the letter again. Then again. And again. Her eyes took in each sharp stroke of ink, every waxy curve of the Caraval master’s silver crest—a sun with a star inside and a teardrop inside of the star. The same seal was watermarked onto the enclosed slips of paper.
This was no prank.
“Donatella!” Scarlett plunged down the steps into the barrel room in search of her younger sister. The familiar scents of molasses and oak snaked up her nose, but her scoundrel of a sibling was nowhere to be found.
“Tella—where are you?” Oil lamps cast an amber glow over bottles of rum and several freshly filled wooden barrels. Scarlett heard a moan as she moved past, and she caught bits of heavy breathing as well. After her latest battle with their father, Tella had probably drunk too much, and now dozed somewhere on the floor. “Dona—”
She choked on the last half of her sister’s name.
“Hullo, Scar.”
Tella flashed Scarlett a sloppy grin, all white teeth and swollen lips. Her honey-blond curls were a mess as well, and her shawl had fallen to the floor. But it was the sight of the young sailor, with his hands wrapped around Tella’s waist, that made Scarlett stutter, “Did I interrupt something?”
“Nothing we can’t start up again.” The sailor spoke with a lilting Southern Empire accent, far smoother-sounding than the sharp Meridian Empire tongues Scarlett was accustomed to.