Scarlett considered defending her fiancé, but her sister had already clearly expressed her thoughts on Scarlett’s engagement. It made no difference that arranged marriages were very much in fashion throughout the rest of the Meridian Empire, or that for months the count had faithfully sent Scarlett the kindest letters; Tella refused to understand how Scarlett could marry someone she’d never met in person. But wedding a man she’d never seen frightened Scarlett far less than the thought of staying on Trisda.
“Well,” Tella pressed, “are you going to tell me what it is, then?”
“It’s not from the count.” Scarlett spoke quietly, not wanting Tella’s sailor friend to overhear. “It’s from the master of Caraval.”
“He wrote you back?” Tella snatched the note. “God’s teeth!”
“Shhh!” Scarlett pushed her sister back toward the barrels. “Someone might hear you.”
“Am I not allowed to celebrate now?” Tella retrieved the three slips of paper hidden within the invite. Lamplight caught their water seals. For a moment they glowed gold, like the edges of the letter, before shifting to a dangerous shade of bloody crimson.
“Do you see that?” Tella gasped as swirls of silver letters materialized across the page, slowly dancing into words: Admit One: Donatella Dragna, of the Conquered Isles.
Scarlett’s name appeared on the other.
The third only contained the words Admit One. Like the other invites, this was printed above the name of an isle she’d never heard of: Isla de los Sue?os.
Scarlett imagined this nameless invitation was meant for her fiancé, and for a moment she thought of how romantic it could be to experience Caraval with him once they were married.
“Oh, look, there’s more!” Tella squealed as new lines of script appeared on the tickets.
To be used once, to gain entrance into Caraval.
Main gates close at midnight, on the thirteenth day of the Growing Season, during the 57th year of the Elantine Dynasty. Anyone who arrives later than this will not be able to participate in the game, or win this year’s prize of one wish.
“That’s only three days away,” Scarlett said, the bright colors she’d felt before turning to her usual dull shades of gray disappointment. She should have known better than to think, even for a moment, that this could work out. Maybe if Caraval were in three months, or even three weeks—sometime after she was married. Scarlett’s father had been secretive about the exact date of her wedding, but she knew it would not be in less than three days. Leaving before then would be impossible—and far too dangerous.
“But look at this year’s prize,” said Tella. “A wish.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in wishes.”
“And I thought you’d be happier about this,” Tella said. “You know people would kill to get their hands on these?”
“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.
Quickly, Scarlett shoved the letters into her dress pocket.
Behind her father, three guards followed his every step.