“But see that flag?” Scarlett said. “This has to be where we get in.”
“No, I think it’s farther down. Trust me.”
She didn’t, but after her last blunder, she also didn’t trust herself. And she didn’t want to be left alone again. About twenty yards down they found another flag.
“This looks exactly like where we were before—”
“Welcome!” A dark-skinned girl on a unicycle pedaled out from behind the banner, cutting Scarlett off. “You’re here just in time.” The girl paused, and one by one, glass lanterns hanging from the tips of the gate lit up with flames. Brilliant gold-blue sparks—the color of childhood dreams, thought Scarlett.
“I always love it when that happens.” The girl on the unicycle clapped. “Now, before I can let either of you fine people through, I need to see your tickets.”
Tickets. Scarlett had forgotten all about the tickets. “Ah—”
“Don’t worry, love, I have them.” Julian placed an arm around Scarlett, tucking her unexpectedly close. And had he called her “love”?
“Go along with it, please,” he whispered in her ear as he reached into his pocket and retrieved two slips of paper, both a little wilted and wrinkled from their dip in the ocean.
Scarlett held back from saying anything as her name appeared on the first. Then the unicyclist held the other note up to one of the gate’s candlelit lanterns.
“That’s unusual. We don’t normally see tickets without names.”
“Is there a problem?” Scarlett asked, suddenly uneasy.
The unicyclist looked down at Julian, and for the first time her bright demeanor faded.
Scarlett was about to explain how she’d received the tickets, but Julian broke in first, his arm pressing harder against her shoulders in what felt like a warning. “Caraval Master Legend sent it. The two of us are getting married. He gifted the tickets to my fiancée, Scarlett.”
“Oh!” The cyclist clapped again. “I know all about the two of you! Master Legend’s special guests.” She looked at Scarlett more closely. “I should have recognized your name. I’m sorry. So many names, sometimes I forget mine.” She laughed at her own joke.
Scarlett tried to muster a chuckle as well, but all she could think about was the arm wrapped around her and Julian’s use of the word fiancée.
“You’ll want to make sure you hold on to these.” The unicyclist reached through the gate, passing the tickets back to Julian, and for a moment her eyes fastened on him as if there was something else she wanted to say. Then she seemed to think better of it. Breaking her gaze, she reached into the pocket of her patchwork vest and pulled out a scroll of black paper. “Now, before I can let you two in, there’s one more thing.” She quickened the pace of her pedaling, kicking up milky slivers of snow from the ground.
“This will be repeated again once you’re inside. Master Legend likes everyone to hear it twice.”
She cleared her throat and peddled even faster. “Welcome, welcome to Caraval! The grandest show on land or by sea. Inside you’ll experience more wonders than most people see in a lifetime. You can sip magic from a cup and buy dreams in a bottle. But before you fully enter into our world, you must remember it’s all a game. What happens beyond this gate may frighten or excite you, but don’t let any of it trick you. We will try to convince you it’s real, but all of it is a performance. A world built of make-believe. So while we want you to get swept away, be careful of being swept too far away. Dreams that come true can be beautiful, but they can also turn into nightmares when people won’t wake up.”
She paused, pedaling her cycle faster and faster until the spokes of the wheel seemed to disappear, vanishing in front of Scarlett’s eyes as the wrought-iron gate parted.
“If you’re here to play the game, you’ll want to take this path.” A curving lane to the girl’s left lit up with puddles of burning silver wax that made the way glitter against the dark. “If you’re here to watch…” She nodded right, and a sudden breeze swayed hanging paper lanterns to life, casting a pumpkin-orange glow above a sloping trail.
Julian dipped his head closer to Scarlett. “Don’t tell me you’re considering just watching.”
“Of course not,” Scarlett said, but she hesitated before taking a step in the other direction. She observed the candles flickering against the full night, the shadows hiding behind the darkened trees and flower bushes that lined the sparkling route into the game.
I’m only staying for a day, she reminded herself.
THE NIGHT OF CARAVAL EVE
9
The sky was black, the moon visiting some other part of the world, as Scarlett took her first step into Caraval. Only a few rebel stars held posts above, watching as she and Julian crossed the threshold of the wrought-iron gate, into a realm that for some would only ever exist in wild stories.
While the rest of the universe had gone suddenly dark, the grand house blazed with light. Every window shimmered with buttery illumination, turning the flower boxes below into cradles full of stardust. The citrus scent from before was gone. Now the air was syrupy and thick, still much sweeter than the air on Trisda, yet Scarlett only tasted bitter.
She was too aware of Julian. Of the heavy weight of his arm around her shoulders, and the way he’d used that arm to sell his lies. She’d been too nervous to argue at the gate, too eager to get inside and find her sister. But now she wondered if she hadn’t gotten herself into another mess.
“What was that all about?” she finally asked, pulling away when they were past the unicyclist but not quite at the mansion’s great doors. She stopped right outside its ring of alluring light, next to a fountain, where its tinkling water would mute their words in case anyone else started down the path. “Why didn’t you just tell the truth?”
“Truth?” Julian made a dark sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I’m fairly certain she wouldn’t have liked that.”
“But you had a ticket?” Scarlett felt as if she were missing a joke.
“I’m guessing you think that girl seemed nice, and she would have eventually let me in.” Julian took a meaningful step closer. “You cannot forget what I told you at the clock shop: most of the people here are not who they appear. That girl gave a performance, meant to make you drop your guard. They say they don’t want us to get too carried away, but that is the point of this game. Legend likes to—play.” The word rolled out unevenly, as if Julian had meant to say something else and changed his mind at the last moment.
“Every guest is chosen for a reason,” he continued. “So, if you’re wondering why I lied, it’s because your invitation was not meant for a common sailor.”
No, Scarlett thought, it had been meant for a count.
A panicked vermillion moved inside of her chest as she recalled how specific Legend’s letter had been. The other ticket was meant for her fiancé. Not the wild boy who stood across from her, untying his cravat. Scarlett was risking enough by deciding to stay and play the game for one day. Pretending to be engaged to Julian made her feel as if she were asking to be punished. Who knew what she and Julian might be pushed to do together as part of the game?
Even if Julian had helped her earlier, lying for him had been a mistake, and there were always consequences for that. Her entire life was evidence of this. “We need to go back and tell the truth,” she said. “This isn’t going to work. If it gets back to my fiancé or my father that I’ve behaved as if we’re—”
In a flash, Scarlett’s back was pressed against the fountain, and Julian’s hands were spread out on either side of her, so much larger than her own. “Crimson, relax.” His voice sounded uncommonly soft, although as he spoke, relaxing instantly felt impossible. With every word he leaned in closer, until the house and lights had disappeared and all she could see was Julian. “None of this will reach your father, or your devoted count. Once we enter that house, the game is all that matters. No one here cares about who anyone is when they’re not on this isle.”
“How do you know that?” Scarlett asked.
Julian flashed a wicked smile. “I know because I’ve played before.” He pushed away from the fountain. The bright lights of the turreted house reappeared, but a chill descended on Scarlett’s shoulders.
No wonder he seemed to be such an expert. She should not have been shocked. From the moment she’d first spied him on Trisda, she had sensed he wasn’t to be completely trusted, but it seemed he was hiding even more than she’d thought behind Legend’s tailored clothes. “So that’s why you helped me and my sister make it to this isle? Because you wanted to play again?”
“If I said no, and that I did it because I wanted to rescue you from your father, would you believe me?”
Scarlett shook her head.
With a shrug, Julian leaned back, pulled his cravat off, and tossed it over Scarlett’s shoulder. A gentle splash sounded as it landed in the fountain.
It now made sense, why he’d seemed so sure of himself. Why he’d crossed the isle full of purpose rather than wonder.
“You’re looking at me as if I’ve done something wrong,” he said.
Scarlett knew she shouldn’t have been upset, they were nothing to each other, but she despised being deceived; she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. “What’s your reason for coming back to Caraval?”
“Do I need to have a purpose? Who doesn’t want to see the magical Caraval players? Or win one of their prizes?”
“For some reason I don’t believe that.” She might have thought he was there for this year’s prize—the wish—but something in her core told her that wasn’t true. Wishes were things of wonder that took a certain amount of faith, and Julian seemed the type to trust only what he saw.
The game was different each year, but a few things were rumored to be the same. There was always some sort of treasure hunt involving a supposedly magical object—a crown, a scepter, a ring, a tablet, or a pendant. And the winners from previous years were always invited back with a guest. Though Scarlett didn’t imagine that would be a draw for Julian either, not when he was so good at finding people to help him get in.
If Scarlett wasn’t even sure she believed in wishes, she could not fathom Julian was after one. No, it was not dreams of wishes, or of the magical and fantastical that drew him to this isle. “Tell me the real reason you’re here,” she said.
“Trust me when I say you’re better off not knowing.” Julian affected a concerned expression. “It will only spoil your good time.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to tell me the truth.”
“No, Crimson, this time, I am telling the truth.” His eyes locked onto Scarlett’s, unmoving and unflinching, a gaze that required complete control. With a shudder, she saw that the lazy sailor from the boat had partially been an act, and if he’d desired, she realized Julian could have kept that performance up, continued to play the part of a boy who’d happened upon her and her sister and this entire game by accident. But it was as if he wanted Scarlett to see there was more to his story, even if he refused to say what it was.
“I’m not going to argue with you about this, Crimson.” Julian straightened, stretching taller while he flexed his back and his shoulders, as if he’d arrived at a sudden decision. “Believe me when I say I have good reasons for wanting inside that house. If you want to go and turn me in I won’t stop you or hold it against you, even though I did save your life today.”
“You only did that so that I could be your ticket into the game.”
Julian’s face went dark. “Is that really what you think?” For a moment he looked truly wounded.
Scarlett knew he was trying to manipulate her. She’d had enough experience to recognize the signs. Unfortunately, despite her lengthy history of being used by her father, or perhaps because of it, she was never good at evading it. No matter how much she wanted to avoid Julian, she couldn’t ignore the fact that he had saved her life.
“What about my sister? This lie might affect your relationship with her.”
“I wouldn’t call what we had a ‘relationship.’” Julian flicked a piece of lint off the shoulder of his tailcoat, as if that was how he pictured Tella. “Your sister was using me as much as I used her.”
“And now you’re doing the same with me,” Scarlett said.
“Don’t look so put out about it. I’ve played this game before. I can help you. And you never know, you might actually enjoy it.” Julian’s voice took on a flirtatious rhythm as he turned back into a careless sailor once more. “A lot of girls would feel lucky to be you.” He brushed a cool finger against Scarlett’s cheek.
“Don’t.” She backed away, her skin tingly where he’d touched her. “If we do this, there can be no more of … this, unless absolutely necessary. I still have a real fiancé. So just because we’re saying we’re engaged doesn’t mean we need to behave like it when no one is watching.”
The edge of Julian’s mouth tipped up. “Does this mean you’re not going to turn me in?”
He was the last person Scarlett wanted to partner with. But she also didn’t want to risk staying on the isle longer than one day. Julian had played before, and Scarlett had a feeling she would need his help if she wanted to find her sister quickly.
Just then, a new party of people arrived at the gate. Scarlett could hear the dim clamor of their distant chatter. The echo of the girl on the unicycle clapping.
Inside the house, violin music, richer than the darkest chocolate, started playing. It seeped outside and whispered to Scarlett as Julian’s smile turned seductive, all shameless curves and immoral promises. An invitation to places that proper young ladies didn’t think about, let alone visit. Scarlett didn’t want to imagine what sorts of things this smile had convinced other girls to do.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Scarlett said. “It doesn’t work on me.”
“That’s why it’s so fun.”
10
Scarlett loved her nana, but she thought of her as one of those women who never quite got over growing old. She’d spent the last years of her life boasting about the grandness of her youth. How she’d been beautiful. How she’d been adored by men. How she’d once worn a purple dress during Caraval that was the envy of every girl.
She’d shown Scarlett the dress on many occasions. When Scarlett was still small—before she began hating the color purple—she believed it was indeed the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen.
“Can I wear it?” she’d asked one day.
“Of course not! This dress is not a plaything.”
After that her nana put the gown away. But it remained in Scarlett’s memories.
Scarlett thought of the gown that night, as the doors to the turreted house swept open. And in that moment, she wondered if her grandmother had ever actually been to a Caraval performance, for Scarlett could not imagine her purple gown being of notice in such a spectacular place.
Lush red carpet cushioned her steps, while soft golden lights licked her arms with gentle kisses of warmth. Heat was everywhere, when a blink ago the world had been covered in cold. It tasted like light, bubbly on her tongue and sugary as it went down, making everything from the ends of her toes to the tips of her fingers tingle.
“It’s—” Words failed her. Scarlett wanted to say it was beautiful or marvelous. But those sentiments seemed suddenly too common for such an uncommon sight.
For the turreted mansion was not what it had seemed from the outside. The doors Scarlett and Julian stepped through led them not into a house, but onto a balcony—although the balcony was probably the size of a small home. Roofed by a canopy of crystal chandeliers, carpeted in plush cranberry rugs, and lined with gilded golden rails and spindles that arched around heavy red velvet drapes.
The drapes swished shut a moment after Scarlett and Julian entered, but it was long enough for Scarlett to glimpse the grandeur that lay beyond.
Julian appeared unimpressed, though he managed a dark laugh as Scarlett continued to fumble
for words. “I keep forgetting you’ve never left your little isle before.”
“Anyone would think this is incredible,” Scarlett argued. “Did you see all the other balconies? There are at least—dozens! And below, it looks like an entire miniature kingdom.”
“Did you expect it was just going to be a normal house?”
“No, of course not; it obviously looked much bigger than a normal building.” But not nearly large enough to contain the world beneath the balcony. Unable to control her excitement, she drew closer to the rim, but hesitated at the edge of its closed, thick red curtains.
Julian stepped in and drew a bit of it back.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to touch those,” Scarlett said.
“Or maybe that’s the reason they shut when we walked in, because they want us to open them.” He pulled the curtain back wider.
Scarlett was certain he was breaking some sort of rule, yet she couldn’t help but lean closer and marvel at the unbelievable realm resting at least ten stories below. It resembled the cobbled streets Scarlett and Julian had just ventured through, only this hamlet was not abandoned: it looked like a storybook come to life. She peered down at bright pointy rooftops, moss-covered towers, gingerbread cottages, gleaming gold bridges, blue-brick streets, and bubbling fountains, all lit by candled lamps that hung everywhere, giving an appearance of time that was neither day nor night.
It was about the same size as her village on Trisda, but it felt spectacularly bigger, the way a word feels bigger with an exclamation point tacked onto it. The roads looked so alive, Scarlett swore they were moving. “I don’t understand how they fit an entire world inside here.”
“It’s just a very elaborate theater.” Julian’s tone was dry as his eyes cut from the scene below up to the dozens of different balconies, all overlooking the same curious sight.
Scarlett hadn’t realized it before, but Julian was right. The balconies formed a circle—an enormous circle. Her spirits took a significant dip. Sometimes it took her an entire day to track down Tella on their father’s estate. How would she ever find Tella here?
Caraval Series, Book 1 Page 6