Caraval (Caraval, #1)(23)

“Can you row any faster?” Julian asked, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“For someone who’s not paying, you’re rather demanding.” The sailor girl gave him a wink but Julian’s harsh expression remained unchanged.

“What’s wrong?” Scarlett asked.

“We’re running out of time.”

A shadow fell over him as several of the lanterns lining the water flickered out. The boat sailed farther and more candles died, their fading smoke casting haze over the water and the few remaining people who still lingered about the cobbled streets.

“That’s how you tell time here? The lanterns go out as it gets closer to dawn?” Scarlett’s eyes anxiously shot around as Julian nodded grimly and another set of candles turned from flames to smoke.

The boat finally came to a rocking halt in front of a long, rickety dock. At the end of it, a searing green door watched Scarlett like a glowing eye. Ivy clung to the walls around it, and though most of the building was swallowed by the night, two dying lanterns illuminated the sign above the entrance—a white serpent coiled around a black cluster of grapes.

Julian was already out of the boat. He grabbed Scarlett’s wrist, hauling her onto the dock. “Faster!” One of the lanterns above the entrance snuffed out and the color of the door seemed to dim as well. It was barely visible as Julian wrenched it open and pushed Scarlett forward.

She stumbled inside. But before Julian could follow, the door slammed shut. Wood crashed against wood as a heavy bolt slid into place, trapping him outside.





11

No!” Scarlett tried to pry the door back open, but a plump woman in a stocking cap was already placing a heavy lock through the bolt.

“You can’t do that. My—” Scarlett hesitated. Somehow the lie seemed more real if she was the one to say it; it made her feel as if she were somehow being unfaithful to the count. Julian had promised her what happened in the game would never get back to her father or her real fiancé, but how could she be sure? And it wasn’t as if he was really being left out for the night.

But the days on this isle seemed as if they could be worse than the nights. Scarlett remembered the cold abandoned village they’d crossed through to get to the turreted house. If Julian remained locked outside, it was because he’d pushed her in ahead of himself. He risked what he’d wanted so she would be all right. Scarlett couldn’t abandon him.

“My fiancé,” Scarlett said. “He’s out there, you have to let him in.”

“I’m sorry,” said the innkeeper. “Rules are rules. If you don’t make it in by the end of the first night, you don’t get to play.”

Don’t get to play?

“Those weren’t the rules I heard.” Though she hadn’t listened to all the rules. She realized this was why Julian had been so anxious on the boat.

“I’m sorry, dearie.” And the innkeeper truly did look apologetic. “I hate to separate couples, but I cannot break the rules. Once the sun’s up and the door’s locked for the day, no one comes in or gets out until the sun—”

“But it’s not up yet!” Scarlett objected. “It’s still dark. You can’t leave him out there.”

The innkeeper continued to look at Scarlett with pity but the set of her mouth was unyielding. It was obvious she was not going to change her mind.

If the situation were reversed, Scarlett tried to think of what Julian would have done. Briefly, she imagined he might not have cared. But although he’d left her on the raft and in the clock shop, he’d also come back—and even if it had only been so he could use her to get into the games, she still felt thankful he’d returned.

Mustering courage she mostly reserved to protect her sister, Scarlett stood a little straighter. “I think you’re making a mistake. My name is Scarlett Dragna, and we’re special guests of Caraval Master Legend.”

The innkeeper’s eyes widened almost as fast as her hands reached out to unlock the bolt. “Oh, you should have said that sooner!”

The door flew open. The other side was the hopeless shade of black that only takes over before the sun is about to rise.

“Julian!” Scarlett expected to find him on the other side of the door but all she saw was the relentless darkness.

Her heart pounded. “Julian!”

“Crimson?”

Scarlett still couldn’t see him, but she heard Julian’s boots hitting the dock, thumping in rhythm with her own pounding pulse.

Her heart continued to race even after Julian was safely inside. The fire that lit the vestibule was dim, a few smoldering logs provided barely enough light to see, but she swore the sailor looked haunted, as if those moments outside had cost him something valuable. She could feel the night still hovering around him. The tips of his dark hair were damp with it.

Somewhere in the distance, bells began to ring in the dawn. If she’d waited a few more seconds it would have been too late to save him. Scarlett fought the unexpected urge to reach out and hug him. He might have been a scoundrel and a liar, but until she found her sister, he was all she had in the game.

“You scared me,” Scarlett said.

And it appeared she wasn’t the only one.

The innkeeper’s face was paler as she locked up the door for a second time.