Finale (Caraval #3)(58)
But was that enough?
“Now, come on,” Julian said gruffly. “If Legend were to come back right now, he might kill me for letting you stand in the road so exposed.”
“Wait.” Tella jumped in front of Julian before he could continue into the ruins.
“I just have one more question. He asked me to become an immortal.”
“That’s not a question, Tella.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Tella thought she’d known. She’d wanted Legend’s love, but his death had made her realize she could never ask for his love again.
“That’s still not a question,” Julian said. “Even if it was, that’s a choice I wouldn’t want to make for anyone.” He started to walk past her, but then he stopped and turned around. “If you do say yes, make absolutely sure it’s what you want. There’s no going back from becoming an immortal.”
“Unless I fall in love.”
Julian shook his head. “Don’t count on that happening. Immortals can’t fall in love with each other, and very few humans tempt them to love. No matter what my brother’s done, I’ve never stopped loving him, but he’s never loved me back.” Julian’s voice was perfectly even, as if it didn’t really hurt, but Tella knew it had to destroy him. Legend was his brother. She couldn’t imagine how devastating it would feel if her sister didn’t love her.
But Tella sensed Julian didn’t want her pity. He turned around almost as soon as he finished and walked toward the ruins with a quickness to his steps that made it clear he didn’t want her to catch up right away.
When he did slow down, they searched the ruins together in silence. He’d said all there was to say, and even without Fates lurking nearby, they knew they needed to be discreet. They didn’t use torches to seek the hourglass symbol, which Tella feared they would never find. Julian claimed to have perfect night vision, but despite what he’d said about not lying earlier, she was doubtful of this claim.
“Found it!” he said, smug and too loudly.
The hourglass was no bigger than a palm, hidden inside of a dilapidated stone arch, and gleaming as if lit by magic. It gave just enough illumination for Tella to see that spikes jutted out from the top of it, as if begging for the blood Tella needed to use in order to summon the market.
“Are you sure you still want to go in alone?” Julian asked.
“Every hour inside is a day that passes out here,” she reminded him. “If for any reason Scar tries to use her key to find you, it’s not safe for her inside the market. She could get caught by the Fallen Star if she takes too long to return to the Menagerie.”
“What if she looks for you instead?”
“Now that’s sweet of you,” Tella said. “But I think we both know that she won’t come looking for me with the key.”
Tella had only watched from the hayloft when Scarlett had first returned, so she’d not heard all that had been said between Scarlett and Julian, but she’d seen the way Scarlett had looked at him. It was the look some people lived their whole lives waiting for, and others lived their whole lives without receiving. It was the look that Tella had kept hoping she’d see from Legend.
“I’ll always be her sister, you can’t steal that role from me. But I think you’re her first love now, and you should be. If you kept choosing your brother over my sister, I wouldn’t think you deserved her. All that I ask is that you don’t muck it up. Don’t just love her back, Julian, fight for her every day.”
“I intend to.”
With that Tella pressed her fingers into one of the spikes at the top of the hourglass and let her blood drop onto the etched stone.
Ethereal light poured from the archway. Suddenly, Tella saw an old, crooked road lined with foreign trees on the verge of losing all their brilliant red leaves. Between the trees, tents spread out like colorful bird wings, all littered with bits of nature and wear. These were not the magical tents that Tella had seen during the first Caraval. Legend’s tents were perfect stretches of smooth silk, while these were covered in tattered brocades and lined in weatherworn tassels. Yet there was still something unearthly about them. Just as Tella turned her head to nod good-bye to Julian, she swore the tents all shifted, and for a moment the wears and tears disappeared and they looked even more dazzling than the tents of Caraval.
Tella boldly stepped through the arch and into the Vanished Market.
It felt like entering an illustrated history book. Women wore bell-sleeved dresses with dropped waists and low-slung belts made of heavy embroidery, while the men wore homespun shirts that laced up in the front, and loose pants tucked into wide-brimmed boots.
Between the tents, children dressed in similar clothes pretended to fight with wooden swords, or sat braiding wreaths out of flowers.
“Greetings! Greetings! Greetings! The Vanished Market is at your service. You might not walk away with what you want, but we’ll give you what you need!” hollered a man dressed like a herald, as Tella ventured farther in.
Clearly they were used to visitors from other times. None of them seemed to care that the calf-length dress and worn leather boots she’d borrowed from a servant did not fit in. If anything, it seemed to excite everyone.
“Hello, sweeting, would you like something to brighten up your ashen complexion and bring your beloved back?” A woman wearing a thin gold circlet around her brow held out an amulet full of blushing pink liquid.