“But I thought Legend wasn’t his real name,” said Scarlett.
“I can’t tell you his original name,” said Nana. “But, I can say, like all great—and terrible—stories, his started with love. Love for the elegant Annalise. With golden hair and words made of sugar. She bewitched him as he’d done to so many girls before her: with compliments and kisses and promises he should have known better than to believe.
“Legend wasn’t wealthy then. He mostly lived on charm and stolen hearts, and Annalise claimed it was enough for her, but that her father, a wealthy merchant, would never allow her to wed a pauper.”
“So did they get married?” Tella asked.
“You’ll find out if you keep listening,” Nana tsked.
Behind her a cloud drifted over the moon, covering all but two tiny points of light, which hovered behind her silver hair like devils’ horns.
“Legend had a plan,” she continued. “Elantine was about to be crowned empress of the Meridian Empire, and if he could perform at her coronation, Legend believed it would bring him the fame and money he needed to marry Annalise. Only Legend was shamefully turned away, because of his lack of talent.”
“I would have let him inside,” said Tella.
“So would I,” Scarlett agreed.
Nana frowned. “If you two don’t stop interrupting, I’m not going to finish the story.”
Scarlett and Tella puckered their lips into miniature pink hearts.
“Legend didn’t have any magic then,” Nana went on, “but he believed in the tales his father had told him. He’d heard every person gets one impossible wish—just one—if the person wants something more than anything, and they can find a bit of magic to help them along. So Legend went in search of a woman who had studied enchantments.”
“She means a witch,” Scarlett whispered.
Nana paused, and tiny Tella and little Scarlett’s eyes grew as wide as saucers while the glass room transformed into the wooden walls of a triangular cabin. Nana’s story was coming to life before their eyes. Yellow wax candles hung from the ceiling upside down, pouring creamy smoke in the wrong direction.
In the center of it all, a woman with hair as red as fury sat across from a boy made of lean lines, his head shaded by a dark top hat. Legend. Though Scarlett couldn’t clearly see his face, she recognized his symbolic hat.
“The woman asked what he wanted most,” Nana went on, “and Legend told her he wished to lead the greatest troupe of players the world had ever seen, so that he could win his true love, Annalise. But the woman warned he could not have both things. He must pick only one.
“Legend was as prideful as he was handsome, and he believed she was wrong. He told himself if he were famous it would allow him to marry Annalise. So he wished for that. He said he wanted his performances to be legendary. Magical.”
A breeze cut through the room, blowing out every candle but the one illuminating Legend. Scarlett could not clearly see his face, but she would have sworn something about him changed, as if he’d suddenly acquired an extra shadow.
“The transformation began right away,” Nana explained. “Its magic was fueled by Legend’s true desires, which were powerful indeed. The witch told him his performances would be transcendent, blending fantasy with reality in a way the world had never witnessed. But she also warned that wishes come with costs, and the more he performed, the more he would transform into whatever roles he played. If he acted the part of villain, he’d become one in truth.”
“So does that mean he’s a villain?” asked Tella.
“And what about Annalise?” Scarlett yawned.
Nana sighed. “The witch had not lied when she said Legend could not have fame and Annalise. After becoming Legend, he was no longer the same boy she fell in love with, so she married another and broke Legend’s heart. He became just as famous as he’d wished, but he claimed Annalise betrayed him and he swore to never love again. Some would probably call him a villain. Others would say his magic makes him closer to a god.”
Both tiny Tella and little Scarlett were halfway on the path to sleep. Their eyelids were more closed than open, yet their mouths both moved into upturned crescent-moons. Tella’s twisted at the word villain, but Scarlett smiled at the mention of Legend’s magic.
6
Scarlett woke with the feeling she’d lost something significant. Unlike most days, where her eyes opened reluctantly and she took her time stretching each limb before easing out of bed and cautiously looking around, on this day, Scarlett sat up the moment her eyes flickered open.
Beneath her, the world rocked.
“Careful, there.” Julian steadied her, reaching out to catch her before she tried to stand up in the boat—if the tiny tub they were in could properly be called a boat. A raft was a more appropriate name. It was barely large enough for the two of them.
“How long have I been asleep?” Scarlett gripped the edges of the vessel as the rest of her surroundings came into focus.
Across from her, Julian dipped two oars into the water, careful not to splash her, as he rowed through an unfamiliar sea. The water almost looked pink, with small swirls of turquoise that swelled as the copper sun crept higher into the sky.
It was morning, although Scarlett imagined more than one dawn had passed while she’d slept. Julian’s face had been smooth when she’d last seen him, but now his jaw and chin appeared to be covered in at least two days of dark stubble. He looked even more disreputable than when he’d flashed that wolfish grin on the beach.
“You blackguard!” Scarlett slapped him in the face.
“Ow! What was that for?” A ruby welt bloomed across his cheek. The color of rage and punishment.
Horror filled Scarlett at what she had done. On occasion she had trouble taming her tongue, but she’d never struck another person. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” She clutched the edges of her bench, bracing for him to strike back.
But the hit she expected never came.
Julian’s cheek was a blaze of angry red, his jaw nothing but a series of tight lines, yet he didn’t touch her.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me. I’ve never hit a woman.” He stopped rowing and looked her in the eyes. Unlike the come-hither gaze he’d worn inside the barrel room, or the predatory look she’d seen on the beach, he now made no attempts to charm or scare her. Beneath his hard appearance, Scarlett could see the ghost of the expression he’d worn as he had watched her father strike Tella. Julian had looked as appalled as Scarlett had been terrified.
On his cheek, the imprint of her hand was fading, and as it disappeared Scarlett could feel some of her terror slip away. Not everyone reacted like her father.
Scarlett’s fingers unclenched from the sides of the boat, though her hands still felt a little shaky.
“I’m sorry,” she managed again. “But you and Tella should have never—wait.” Scarlett stopped. The awful feeling she’d lost something vital flooded back. And that something had honey-blond hair and a cherub’s face with a devil’s grin. “Where is Tella?”
Julian dipped his oars back in the water, and this time he did splash Scarlett. Icy drops of wet sprayed all over her lap.
“If you’ve done something to Tella, I swear—”
“Relax, Crimson—”
“It’s Scarlett.”
“Same difference. And your sister is fine. You’ll find her on the isle.” Julian tipped an oar toward their destination.