Caraval (Caraval, #1)(75)

“Then don’t let it end here. I’ve already told you—I’m not worth crying for.” Julian reached up to brush away one of her tears, but his hand fell before he reached her.

“No! Don’t give up,” Scarlett begged. “Please, don’t leave me.” There were so many other things she wanted to say, but she feared that if she said her good-byes, it would make it easier for him to let go. “You can’t abandon me. You told me you were going to help me win the game!”

“I lied—” Julian’s eyes fluttered. “I—”

“Julian!” Scarlett cried, pushing harder against his chest as more blood soaked through the cape and onto her hands. “I don’t care if you lied. If you don’t die, I’ll forgive you for everything.”

Julian’s eyes shut, as if he didn’t hear her.

“Julian, please keep fighting. You’ve been fighting me this whole game, don’t stop now.”

Slowly his eyelids lifted. For a moment it looked as if he was coming back to her. “I lied about how I got bashed in the head,” he mumbled. “I wanted you to have your earrings back. But the man was tougher than he looked.… I got into a little trouble. But it was worth it to see your face.…” A ghost of a smile moved his lips. “I should have stayed away from you … but I really wanted you to succeed.… I wanted to—”

Julian’s head fell back.

“No!” Beneath her hands, Scarlett felt his chest fall a final time.

“Julian. Julian. Julian!” She pressed her hands to his heart but nothing moved.

Scarlett didn’t know how many times she repeated his name. She said it like a prayer. A plea. A whisper. A good-bye.





34

Scarlett had never wanted time to stop before, to slip into a crawl so slow that one heartbeat would take a year, a breath would take a lifetime, and a touch could last an eternity. Usually she wanted the opposite, for time to speed up, race ahead, so that she could escape any current pain and move forward into a new, unblemished moment.

But Scarlett knew that when this instant ended the next would not feel fresh, or thick with promise for the future. It would be incomplete, lacking, void, because Julian would not be in it.

Scarlett’s tears fell harder as she felt Julian die. His muscles losing tension. His body growing colder. His skin taking on a gray pallor that there was no return from.

She knew Legend was watching. Taking sick pleasure from her pain. But a part of her couldn’t bear to let go of Julian, as if he might miraculously take another breath, or manage another heartbeat. She’d once heard emotions and desires fueled the magic that made wishes possible. But either Scarlett didn’t feel enough, or the stories she’d heard about wishes were made of lies.

Or, perhaps, she was thinking of the wrong stories.

Hope is a powerful thing. Some say it’s a different breed of magic altogether. Elusive, difficult to hold on to. But not much is needed.

And Scarlett did not have much, just the memory of a poorly written poem.

THIS GIRL WAS LAST SEEN WITH LEGEND.

IF YOU CATCH HER, YOU SHALL CATCH HIM AS WELL.

OF COURSE, YOU MAY HAVE TO VENTURE THROUGH HELL.

BUT IF YOU SUCCEED YOU MAY FIND YOURSELF RICH.

THIS YEAR’S WINNER WILL BE GRANTED ONE WISH.

Scarlett had momentarily forgotten about the wish, but if she could find Tella first, and wish for Julian’s life, maybe it could end happily after all. That anything could be happy again seemed almost as unreal as a wish, but it was all she had left to hope for.

As she looked up, ready to demand her sister’s location again, she realized Legend had vanished. All he’d left was Julian’s pocket watch and his own velvet top hat, resting on a dark letter.

Black rose petals drifted to the ground as Scarlett picked up the note. It was rimmed in onyx black leafing, a shadow of the first letter Legend had sent her.



* * *



Dear Miss Dragna,

Your presence is requested for the funeral of Donatella Dragna, tomorrow, one hour after sunrise. Unless you manage to prevent her death.

Yours truly,

Legend

P.S. I recommend taking the stairs to your right.



* * *





Scarlett’s hand fisted around the letter. This was more than madness. This was something perverted that Scarlett did not understand. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to understand it.

Again, she was struck with the feeling this was personal to her, that it was about more than just Legend’s sordid past with her grandmother Anna.

Behind her the water started rushing again. She didn’t know if that meant others were coming. She hated to leave Julian’s body—he deserved so much more than to be abandoned in a cave—but if she was going to save him, she needed to end this, find Tella, and get that wish.

Scarlett looked up to see more jade firefly lights dancing in the air, moving like a curtain of glowing smoke to illuminate a fork in the stairs before her.

Legend had recommended the set to her right. She imagined he knew she wouldn’t trust him, so there was a good chance he’d told the truth because of that. However, he was cunning enough to know she would have thought that too.

She started toward the stairs on the left, only to change her mind at the last minute, as she remembered what Legend said about telling the truth. Her father seldom told the entire truth, but he also rarely outright lied. He saved his lies for when they would count the most. Scarlett figured Legend was the same way.