Caraval (Caraval, #1)(3)
“Did you not see the part where he said we need to leave the isle?” No matter how badly Scarlett longed to go to Caraval, she needed to get married even more. “To make it in three days, we’d probably have to leave tomorrow.”
“Why do you think I’m so excited?” The glimmer in Tella’s eyes grew brighter; when she was happy, the world turned shimmery, making Scarlett want to beam along with her and say yes to whatever her sister desired. But Scarlett had learned too well how treacherous it was to hope in something as illusive as a wish.
Scarlett sharpened her voice, hating herself for being the one to crush her sister’s joy, but better she than someone who would destroy even more than that. “Were you also drinking rum down here? Have you forgotten what Father did the last time we tried to leave Trisda?”
Tella flinched. For a moment she looked like the fragile girl she pretended so hard not to be. Then, just as quickly, her expression changed, pink lips curving once again, shifting from broken to unbreakable. “That was two years ago; we’re smarter now.”
“We also have more to lose,” Scarlett insisted.
It was easier for Tella to brush aside what had happened when they’d attempted to go to Caraval before. Scarlett had never told her sister the entirety of what their father had done as retribution; she’d not wanted Tella to live in that much fear, to constantly look over her shoulder, to know there were worse things than their father’s standard forms of punishment.
“Don’t tell me this is because you’re afraid it will interfere with your wedding.” Tella gripped the tickets tighter.
“Stop.” Scarlett grabbed them back. “You’re going to crinkle their edges.”
“And you’re avoiding my question, Scarlett. Is this about your wedding?”
“Of course not. It’s about not being able to get off the island tomorrow. We don’t even know where this other place is. I’ve never heard of Isla de los Sue?os but I know it’s not one of the Conquered Isles.”
“I know where it is.” Julian stepped out from behind several rum barrels, flashing a smile that said he’d make no apologies for listening in on a private conversation.
“This doesn’t concern you.” Scarlett waved him away with her hand.
Julian looked at her strangely, as if a girl had never dismissed him. “I’m only trying to help. You’ve never heard of this isle because it’s not part of the Meridian Empire. It’s not ruled by any of the five Empires. Isla de los Sue?os is Legend’s private isle, only about two days’ journey, and if you want to go there I can smuggle you onto my ship, for a price.” Julian eyed the third ticket. Thick lashes lined his light brown eyes, just made for convincing girls to lift their skirts and open their arms.
Tella’s words about people who’d kill for the tickets echoed in Scarlett’s mind. Julian might have had a charming face, but he also had that Southern Empire accent, and everyone knew the Southern Empire was a lawless place.
“No,” Scarlett said. “It’s too dangerous if we get caught.”
“Everything we do is dangerous. We’ll be in trouble if we get caught down here with a boy,” Tella said.
Julian looked offended at being referred to as a boy, but Tella went on before he could argue. “Nothing we do is safe. But this is worth the risk. You’ve waited your whole life for this, wished on every fallen star, prayed as every ship came into port that it would be that magical one carrying the mysterious Caraval performers. You want this even more than I do.”
Whatever you’ve heard about Caraval, it doesn’t compare to the reality. It’s more than just a game or a performance. It’s the closest you’ll ever find to magic in this world. Her grandmother’s words played in Scarlett’s head as she looked at the slips of paper in her hands. The Caraval stories she adored as a young girl never felt more real than they did in that moment. Scarlett always saw flashes of color attached to her strongest emotions, and for an instant goldenrod desire lit up inside her. Briefly, Scarlett let herself imagine what it would be like to go to Legend’s private isle, to play the game and win the wish. Freedom. Choices. Wonder. Magic.
A beautiful, ridiculous fantasy.
And it was best to keep it that way. Wishes were about as real as unicorns. When she was younger Scarlett had believed her nana’s stories about Caraval’s magic, but as she’d grown, she’d left those fairy tales behind. She’d never seen any proof that magic existed. Now it seemed far more likely that her nana’s tales were the exaggerations of an old woman.
A part of Scarlett still desperately wanted to experience the splendor of Caraval, but she knew better than to believe its magic would change her life. The only person capable of giving Scarlett or her sister a brand-new life was Scarlett’s fiancé, the count.
Now that they were no longer held up to the lamplight, the script on the tickets had vanished and they looked almost ordinary again. “Tella, we can’t. It’s too risky; if we try to leave the isle—” Scarlett broke off as the stairs to the barrel room creaked. The heavy tread of boots followed. At least three sets.
Scarlett shot a panicked look at her sister.
Tella cursed and quickly made a motion for Julian to hide.
“Don’t disappear on my account.” Governor Dragna finished his descent, the sharp odor of his heavily perfumed suit spoiling the pungent scents of the barrel room.