When Night Breaks

by Janella Angeles

  A smile touched Daron’s lips for the first time since he’d arrived. How right it all felt, that even in a world so different from theirs, they would always find their way back to the stage.

  The rest of the show passed in a blur. As part of their set, the Diamond Rings did choose a volunteer who they passed around from hoop to hoop in a way that would’ve made a sober man scared shitless, but their participant enjoyed the ride. They spun and twirled in the air, staged near-falls that had the audience screaming and actual falls with swift saves that had them cheering. Daron couldn’t stop clapping, not even after they had all descended from their hoops—a few disappearing into thin air—while four stepped forward and took their bows at the end.

  His gaze sought Kallia’s from across the stage and locked on from a distance. She must’ve noticed him long ago from how quickly she found him, and the warmth fluttered up his spine when her lips curved. Sending him a small nod, her eyes never left him as she and the rest of the group hurried off the stage.

  “What, you want an autograph?” Herald heckled after Daron, who already tore off through the crowd. His heart thundered, half-wondering if he’d fallen into one of his dreams that kept her in sight, but never within reach.

  That dread died once he broke through the horde of spectators dispersing after the show. Breathing heavily, he treaded slowly near the back edge of the stage dotted with a rainbow of headliner tents.

  At the burst of cackling from a gleaming pink tent, he stopped.

  First Kallia exited, lost in a laugh at something said behind her before she froze at the sight of him only a few feet away, with a soft, breathless smile. “Hi.”

  Daron felt all of his senses leave him. “Hi.”

  He forgot everything—what they were fighting about, what they were doing, even forgot himself when he nearly leaned in to her. For what, he wasn’t sure. He felt utterly helpless, especially when she was fresh off a show. Sweat glistened by her collarbone, at her brow along the jewels across her face, that thrill lighting her up like a fire stoked, wanting more.

  He wanted more. His insides were twisting, and he could only wonder if she felt the same. If he hadn’t entirely messed this up.

  “Good job up there,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ve never seen you work a hoop, so … that’s good. Expanding your skill set.”

  Who the hell says that?

  Daron waited in agony for the ground to swallow him whole before Kallia burst out laughing. “What a glowing review.”

  The sound of her laugh drew him a step closer, then another, without even realizing. After weeks of remembering her in the dark, it was like walking toward a light.

  And he wanted to close the distance, as he had in that alleyway. Raw instinct had taken over then, and nearly consumed him now when his gaze traced a path from her bare throat to her lips.

  She was staring at his, too. Contemplating something before the warmth slitted past his shoulder with a growl. “Herald.”

  “Excellent show, showgirl.” The magician’s drawl was like a douse of cold water, especially when strolled right up alongside them, examining their faces smugly. “Though don’t stop on my account. I’m no innocent.”

  Kallia scoffed, while Daron elbowed him squarely in the gut. “Can you not?”

  Herald grunted. “I’m here to help you, lover boy,” he whispered. “You can even have the mirror shop all to yourself tonight, if you know what I—”

  “Go be gross somewhere else, mirror boy.”

  Everything went quiet at the voice from behind. It pricked like a thorn drawing blood, and Daron stopped breathing. Bumps rose across his skin as he twisted around to another set of glittering eyes above him.

  Hers widened, just like his.

  Eva.

  The silence stretched on and on and on. Daron could barely form any other word or thought. He’d envisioned this reunion for so long, not once imagining it would feel like this.

  Like two strangers meeting.

  They might as well have been, when neither of them said anything. All he could do was take stock of her from head to toe, finding hardly a trace of Eva from her hair to her attire to her overall demeanor. So many changes and differences.

  But no change in the eyes. Those were the eyes he’d catch across their stage to signal a turn in their act. Eyes so much like his own, that flashed with the same panic churning inside him now. He’d never been afraid to speak to Eva, not even in his own head.

  Why now?

  Herald’s breath hitched in surprise. “Vain, too?” Impressed, he tilted his head at them both. “Damn, Demarco. Maybe you don’t need my help after all.”

  The headliner set her dagger eyes on him. “Leave.”

  At her fury, he fled to Daron’s side immediately. “No can do, I have orders.”

  “Which are what? I’m fairly certain he’s safer in our hands than yours, since you’d probably feed him to a python if Roth wanted it done.”

  Herald didn’t deny it, but he also didn’t proudly confirm it, which surprised Daron most of all. Not that he deserved any credit.

  “Oh, Herald, there you are, darling!”

  The tent flaps burst open as a soft-faced girl with silver-blond hair latched onto Herald’s elbow, while his other was occupied by a brown-skinned girl decked out in a feather-lined fluffy robe. Both wore the same diamond ring necklaces hanging around Kallia and Eva’s necks. “Yes, it’s time to finally enjoy some piece of the night.” The one in the robe pouted. “And it would be nice to have someone to hold our winnings when we play the booths.”

  “Lucky me,” he muttered, his odds as one against four Diamond Rings clear. As they dragged him away, Herald shot one last look back. “Be gentle with him, ladies. I don’t think the Dealer would be too pleased if either of you chewed him up and spat him out.”

  Eva smiled with hooded eyes. “We’ll do our best.”

  “And don’t get too destroyed, lover boy,” he called out, eyebrows jutting upward.

  “Remember, mirror shop’s all yours tonight if you—” A yelp rose as one of the girls slapped the back of his head before they disappeared far within the crowd.

  The tension burned and crackled even harder between the three of them.

  “Oh, that reminds me.” Kallia sheepishly shrugged her way back toward the tent. “Duels start up again on the main stage soon. So … I must prepare.”

  “You just remembered?” Eva looked unforgivably close to stabbing her, but Kallia had already scurried into the tent without another word.

  Now, they were alone. The tension remained painful as ever, even when the carnival roared to life around them. He still couldn’t look at her for more than a few seconds at a time. Still couldn’t believe this.

  “Let’s walk,” she ordered more than suggested, an Aunt Cata move from the way she firmly patted his shoulder after. “The whole world is scattered like rats in a cheese maze, but we’ll be less noticeable if we—”

  His arms locked around her in a hard embrace. Every emotion raced in his chest, straining each breath. “I’m sorry.”

  He wasn’t sure where to begin, hadn’t prepared anything. Nothing but the same word repeated over and over again under his breath. Sorry. Being able to say it to her, to say anything, hit him. It didn’t even sting that she didn’t immediately reciprocate his hold, he’d given her no warning. All that mattered was the feel of her alive. Found.

  The force of it all thundered in his ears, muting her words. “What?”

  “I said, why do keep saying that?” Eva calmly inched back, searching his face. Hers remained a hard mask, except for the slight glimmer in her eyes. Not even she could control that. “Sorry for what?”

  For taking so long. For not trying harder.

  “For everything.” His brow furrowed at his answer, shaping it more into a question. Surely she knew he was at fault for it all. Her magic, and his. Just like his magic, and Kallia’s.

  Whatever they wanted, whatever it took to earn th
eir forgiveness, he’d do it. Anything they asked, he was prepared.

  “Let’s keep moving.” She gave a furtive nod back to the magicians walking by, somehow sensing the way they lingered at the sight of them. “If I have to live through any more disturbing rumors speculating about us ever again, I’m going to vomit.”

  Daron shuddered in agreement and kept steadily by her side as they walked down food stands of popcorn that could be seasoned with any flavor and cotton candy spun into glittering elaborate shapes and scenes atop a paper cone. Wonders met them at every corner, but his stare kept returning to Eva. So close, walking casually alongside him.

  Zarose, the last time he saw her, her hair was much longer. Her eyes, less wily. Or perhaps they had always been wily, and he’d just never caught it.

  He’d missed so much back then, but that didn’t matter when she had it all now. As they moved through the streets lined in lights, adoring fans traced her movements and whispered as she passed. A notorious legend, strolling with some nameless masked stranger as her companion.

  Oh, how the tables had turned.

  “You’ve made quite a name for yourself,” he noted.

  The moving carousel lights glided over her face, illuminating her delight. Well-earned pride. “It wasn’t easy, but I have.”

  It was a comfort, seeing her like this, after imagining only the worst in the years that had passed. “And I always knew you two would get along. You and Kallia.”

  That drew out a low laugh. “I had my reservations.… You can’t be too sure of anybody here, so I gave her a hard time. And she took it. Still does.” Eva stared up at the attractions and rides that glowed against the dark sky, shooting him a bemused sideways glance. “I never pegged you to go for someone like her, to be completely honest. Or for her to take to someone like you.”

  “I don’t think either of us did.” He grinned down at his feet, recalling those early days of Spectaculore when the world was much smaller. Simpler. Still broken, with all the bad surrounding them. That he had added to. “But … I took from her, too. Just like with you. And it’s not right—”

  “Dare, you don’t have to keep bringing it up,” she cut in. “It’s in the past.”

  “That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

  Eva withdrew from him, still walking but with sterner eyes. “Things have changed. You don’t have to dwell on it.”

  Every curt response set him on edge. If she was angry, he wanted her to be angry. If she was hurt, he didn’t want her to hold back. None of this could be so cleanly closed when it all remained so half-finished, half-answered. “And you don’t have to avoid it.”

  Her gaze aimed straight ahead, narrowing on a burst of noise. A high-pitched yell. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

  “That’s a lie.” Just like him, she looked for distraction. Anything to escape a tough conversation. “Eva, please. Just let me—”

  Daron’s knees buckled as his legs became unsteady.

  What the—

  Screams burst around them when the ground shook again. The force of it was so violent, waves of people dropped to their knees. A few tall stands tipped and spilled over the cobblestone.

  Daron gripped Eva to stop her fall just as she grasped onto his arm. The length of her nails almost bit into skin, but the ground was all he felt. The way it rumbled and thundered like a thrashing heart. “What’s happening?”

  Blinking rapidly, her eyes were near-black with alarm. “I don’t know. This isn’t us.”

  Whatever she meant by that soon didn’t matter when they were shoved and pummeled from all sides. Cries filled their ears. Daron clung to Eva, holding on tight against the desperate stampede of guests nearly bowling them over. Running fast, despite the stillness of the ground.

  A creak like a lightning strike cracked overhead.

  And there were more and more, joining the screams below.

  When Daron looked up, his entire chest seized.

  Fissures veined along the sky-high slide as it snapped. The tense whistle of falling debris sent heavy pieces and chunks falling to the ground like rain, spearing through booths and stands. Derailed carts sped through booths and spun out of control through the crowds sprinting to safety.

  Without even realizing it, they were running. Eva gripped his hand, shouted something in his ear, but there was so much noise. So many cries, he heard nothing but the ominous cracks like a wave about to crash, coming from the hulking shadow over them. The roller coaster’s framework lost hold, its support beams snapping off its foundation.

  Like an avalanche, it fell.

  Piece by piece, all over the city.

  37

  Waiting for the tell-tale dueling bell, Kallia gave her appearance one last glance in the mirror before a force threw her right against the glass.

  Desperate screams sounded outside the tent, even louder as the ground shook harder, vibrating beneath her feet. It shook their dressing tent into a war zone, sending costume racks and tall mirrors toppling over, makeup flying right off the vanity counters into a chaotic heap.

  What was happening?

  Malice had taken over serving tonight’s disaster, but something felt off. It was too early, for one. And outside her tent, it seemed the world was breaking with every violent quake of the ground. Every time Kallia waited for the earth to still, she cringed at the sound of debris slamming outside of her tent, spearing through the fabric like arrows.

  The worries ate into her as her thoughts went to everyone. Demarco. The Diamond Rings. Hell, even Jack. Imagining them all beyond this tent, caught in this storm wherever they were, forced her to her feet, reaching for the exit—

  The air tightened for a second.

  A moment of stillness before everything came crashing down beneath a sharp, heavy weight. With a start, Kallia fell back as she edged into some corner of a table—the entire pink covering of the tent coming down on her like a net.

  She saw nothing past the tent’s material. All she heard was the patters of those running outside, frantic to avoid whatever piece of the carnival came down hard next.

  Whatever piece had fallen over her tent pinned everything down in place, trapping her.

  Between heavy breaths, Kallia screamed and kicked her sharp heel through the material as hard as she could, but it wouldn’t pierce through.

  And she couldn’t tear free.

  Her heart thrashed in fear. It was a miracle the enormous, heavy object missed her body by a few feet. Had she been pacing around for a few moments more, any second earlier or later than she had, every bone of hers would’ve shattered as she crushed into the ground.

  The thought sent bile up her throat. Only because there were no doubt worse sights right outside the tent from the cries of pain piercing the air.

  Kallia hadn’t realized the ground had fallen still for a while with the way her entire body trembled. The more she elbowed and thrashed beneath the covering, the more futile the effort. Even her magic felt paralyzed, frozen in shock, as her name echoed as if in a dream where someone was looking for her.

  Please.

  Please.

  Please.

  Whoever the word was for, she repeated it in her head over and over again, hoping someone would notice her gone, that she was still—

  “KALLIA!”

  At the roar of her name, her eyes flew open.

  Demarco.

  Her heart raced back to life as she heard a low series of curses between strained grunts and labored pants. He’d come alone, and he sounded furious. Frustrated.

  And so, so close. Everything in her stirred into motion as she reached out and moved in any way she could with the limited range she had.

  “I’m under here.” Her voice cracked dry, eyes wet with relief. “Demarco, I’m—”

  “I know, I’m right here,” he sighed, his relief just as overwhelming. “I’m right here. Keep talking to me.”

  She did. As he dug his way through to her, she kept saying his name like a prayer, and
more words slipped out without thought or reason. Words she would probably later regret. At one point, he suddenly went silent, spearing panic through her.

  Before there was a rustle of movement—

  And the trap gave way. Her heart pounded as the material’s hold loosened, finally freeing enough for her to start wriggling out from underneath.

  Until it all tore away in a sudden flash, the world returning to focus.

  And all she saw was Demarco standing over her, his hand reaching out for hers.

  38

  He took them to the mirror shop, which seemed like the worst place to go when the world shook at a moment’s notice.

  “Safest, most unshakable place to be, according to Herald,” Demarco reassured after shutting the door behind them. “See anything broken?”

  Kallia paused to inspect the oddly clean aisles of the dead-quiet shop. After walking through the city once everything officially shut down, it seemed more like crossing through the aftermath of a battle lost. Buildings ruined with roofs caved in, booths and stalls smashed and toppled over in messes that spilled out into the street. There were many people they passed in wrecked gowns and suits, saddled with injuries requiring all manner of stitches and elaborate bandaging; by some miracle, no casualties accounted for yet. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, in a world filled with some of the most powerful, capable magicians.

  Though Kallia couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Jack had something to do with that, too.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been staying here,” she muttered, her eyes drifting around as the lights dotting the walls slowly fired to life. “With Herald, of all people.”

  With a snort, Demarco made his way around the counter and began rifling behind the glass. “Certainly not my ideal roommate, but it could be worse,” he said, emerging with two glasses and a vivid blue bottle that gleamed in the dark. “I suppose I can’t be picky when there are no other options.”