Caraval Series, Book 1

by Stephanie Garber

  On one side was the image of a top hat, on the other a brief message:

  * * *

  I imagine this will look lovely on you.

  Warm regards,

  —D

  * * *

  “Who’s ‘D’?” Julian asked.

  “I think someone wants me to believe it’s from Donatella.” But Scarlett knew this gift was not from her sister. The mockery of a wedding gown could only be from one person, and the top hat on the note could only mean one thing. Legend.

  Invisible spiders crawled over her skin, such a different feeling from the bright colors his first letter had summoned. “I think this is the fifth clue.”

  Julian grimaced. “Why would you think that?”

  “What else would it be?” Scarlett said. She pulled out her note with all the clues.

  “See, I’ve already figured out the first four clues,” Scarlett said. “All that’s left is number five.”

  “But how is this the fifth clue?” Julian asked, still looking at the dress as if it were covered in something far more offensive than buttons.

  That’s when Scarlett unpuzzled it. Buttons and a top hat were both symbols.

  “Legend is known for his top hats, and I’ve been finding buttons all over the game,” she said. “I didn’t know if the buttons meant anything or not, but after seeing this dress covered entirely in buttons, I’m almost certain they do. When I bought the gown, next door to the shop was a path of buttons that led to a hatter and haberdashery shop shaped like a top hat.”

  “I still don’t see how that means anything.” Julian’s scowl remained in place as he read Scarlett’s note with all the clues. “‘And number five requires a leap of faith.’ How does this place fit with that?”

  “I don’t know. I think that’s where the faith part comes in. Maybe it’s some sort of challenge from Legend and we need to go to the hat shop and face whatever is waiting for us.” Scarlett wasn’t fully convinced of this, but she’d begun to learn that no matter how logically she tried to reason, there were always variables she’d be unable to see. Sometimes caution held her back rather than kept her safe.

  But it seemed as if Julian was starting to feel the opposite. He had a look on his face that suggested he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and keep her locked away and hidden from the rest of the world.

  “The sun will go down in less than an hour,” Scarlett said firmly. “If you come up with something better before then, I’m open to suggestions. If not, the minute it’s dark out, I think we should go to the shop and see what we find.”

  Julian looked at the dress once again, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something, but then he snapped it shut, and nodded. “I’ll check the halls to see if your father is anywhere before we leave.”

  After he left, Scarlett changed into the gown, and grabbed the buttons she’d collected. They felt like a flimsy offering, but maybe there was something magical about them she had yet to realize.

  NIGHT FOUR OF CARAVAL

  27

  As Scarlett left the inn, she didn’t smell even a hint of her father’s foul perfume. Right before they’d stepped outside, Julian had sworn he saw her father leave the building. But Scarlett continued tossing glances behind her, wondering if her father were somehow following, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

  The delights of Caraval continued to dance all around her. Girls on sidewalk stages dueled with parasols, while bands of zealous participants continued to hunt for clues. Yet Scarlett felt as though the night had been knocked askew. The air was damper than usual. And the light felt unnatural as well. The moon was only a sliver, but it cast a silver glow over the usually colorful shops and turned the water into liquid metal.

  “This plan still doesn’t feel right.” Julian lowered his voice as they entered the curving lane that wove around the carousel made of roses.

  “A song for a donation?” asked the organist.

  “Not tonight,” Scarlett said.

  The man started playing just the same. This time the carousel didn’t turn. Its red flowers stayed in place, but the music was enough to muffle Julian’s words as he went on, “I think this hat shop you told me about is too obvious to be the final clue.”

  “Maybe it’s so bold, everyone else has missed it.” Scarlett’s feet moved faster as they neared the triple-tiered dress shop where she’d purchased her gowns.

  Heavy storm clouds had moved over the moon, and unlike the last time Scarlett was there, all the shop windows were dim. The hatter and haberdashery next to the dress shop was almost too dark to see. Yet its outline was unmistakable.

  Rimmed in a wide moat of black flower boxes that circled the rounded two-story building like a brim, the place was shaped exactly like a top hat, with a path of buttons leading to its black velvet door.

  “This really doesn’t feel like Legend,” Julian insisted. “I know he’s known for those ridiculous top hats, but he wouldn’t be this blatant.”

  “It’s almost too dark to see the shop. I’d hardly call this obvious.”

  “Something about this is wrong,” Julian spoke under his breath. “I think I should go in alone and check it out first.”

  “Maybe neither of you should go in.” Aiko suddenly appeared by Scarlett’s side. Her skirt and blouse were silver this time, with eyes and lips painted to match. Like a teardrop the moon had cried.

  “I’m so glad you decided to wear that dress.” She glided closer to Scarlett, nodding in approval. “I think it looks even better than the other night.”

  Julian divided a look between the girls, made of equal parts confusion and distrust. “You two know each other?”

  “We went shopping together,” Aiko replied.

  Julian’s expression turned to stone. “You’re the one who convinced her to buy the dresses?”

  “And you must be the one who left her waiting in a tavern?” Aiko raised two appraising eyebrows threaded with pearls, though she must have already known who Julian was from the drawings in her journal. “If you didn’t want her shopping, you shouldn’t have abandoned her.”

  “I don’t care if she shops,” Julian said.

  “Then you don’t like her dress?”

  “Excuse me,” Scarlett interrupted, “but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

  Aiko made an exaggerated point of looking the haberdashery up and down distastefully. “I recommend you both stay away from the hatter tonight. You won’t find any good deals in there.”

  Thunder clapped above.

  Aiko raised her head as drops of shimmering liquid fell from the sky. “I should go. I’ve never liked the rain; it washes all the magic away. I just wanted to warn you: I think you’re both about to make a mistake.”

  Silver rain continued to fall while Aiko glided away.

  Drops of wet clung to Julian’s dark hair as he shook his head, his expression conflicted. “You need to be careful with that one. Though I do think she’s right about this hat shop.”

  Scarlett wasn’t so sure. Aiko’s dreams had given Scarlett some answers, but not all of them had been accurate. She had no idea whose side the girl was really on.

  The rain fell a little harder as Scarlett marched closer to the doors of the hatter and haberdashery. Julian was right—it didn’t feel quite like Legend. There was nothing romantic or magical about it. Yet at the same time it felt like something. Scarlett had an emerald-green premonition that she would make a discovery inside.

  “I’m going in,” Scarlett said. “The fifth clue requires a leap of faith. Even if this doesn’t lead me to Legend, it might take me closer to Tella.”

  A bell tinkled as Scarlett pushed open the door to the unusual shop.

  Peach bonnets, lime bowlers, yellow knit caps, velvet top hats, and flashy tiaras covered every inch of a domed ceiling, while pedestals of oddities sprouted up around the shop like bizarre wildflowers. There were bowls of glass shoehorns, lines of invisible thread, birdcages full of ribbons made of feathers, baskets br
imming with self-threading needles, and cuff links supposedly made from leprechaun gold.

  Julian trudged in after her, shaking rain from his person onto everything in sight, including the boldly dressed gentleman who stood at an angle a few feet from the door.

  Even amid so many colors and fine things, this gentleman made a statement. Dressed in a deep red tailcoat and matching cravat, he looked as if he could be a decoration. The type of young man someone invited to a party just because he had a way of looking beautiful and intriguing at once. Underneath his coat, he wore a matching red vest that contrasted with both his dark shirt and snug-fitting trousers, which tucked neatly into tall silver boots. But what drew Scarlett’s attention most was his silk-trimmed top hat.

  “Legend.” She gasped, her heart dropping into her stomach.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Ink-dark hair spilled across the corner of the gentleman’s forehead and grazed the tip of his black collar as he took off his top hat and set it on a display of identical-looking caps. “I’m flattered, but I think you have me confused with someone else.” He cracked an amused smile as he pivoted in Scarlett’s direction.

  Beside her Julian tensed, and Scarlett froze as well. She’d seen this young man before. His face was not the kind a girl easily forgets. Long sideburns fed into a neatly trimmed beard, shaped like a work of art, outlining lips designed for dark whispers and straight white teeth perfect for biting into things.

  Scarlett shuddered, but she didn’t look away. Her eyes continued to take him in, traveling upward until they reached his black eye-patch.

  It was the same young man she’d seen the night her vision had gone black-and-white. He’d not noticed her then, but he watched her now. Intensely. His right eye as green as a fresh-cut emerald.

  Julian edged closer, the damp of his coat sending crisp shivers over her arms. He didn’t say a word, but the look he cut toward the other young man was so clearly threatening, Scarlett swore she felt the room shift. The colors in the shop seemed to grow violently brighter.

  “I don’t think he can help us,” Julian muttered.

  “Help with what?” The gentleman had a slight accent that Scarlett couldn’t place. But even though Julian continued to give him murderous glances, his tone remained inviting. He looked at Scarlett almost as if he’d expected her.

  He might not be Legend, but Scarlett sensed he was someone. She held out the buttons she’d collected during the game. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about them, but she hoped by showing him, he might open up some secret door, like the one she’d found in Castillo Maldito or Tella’s bedroom. “We were wondering if you could help us with this,” Scarlett asked.

  The gentleman took her palm. He wore black gloves, yet Scarlett could feel that beneath the velvety fabric, his hands were soft. He was the sort of aristocrat who let others do his hard work.

  He lifted Scarlett’s hand to take a closer look at the buttons, though his sharp green eye stayed on hers. Vibrant and elegant and poisonous.

  Julian cleared his throat. “You might want to actually look at the buttons, mate.”

  “I did. But I’m not really interested in trinkets.” The gentleman folded Scarlett’s fingers over her palm, and before she could pull away he kissed her hand, letting his lips linger much longer than necessary.

  “I think we should go,” Julian said. His knuckles were white, his own hands clenched at his sides, as if he were holding back from doing something violent.

  Scarlett debated leaving with him before anything regrettable happened. But a leap of faith wasn’t supposed to be easy. She reminded herself that this young man’s cravat had been in color after she’d drunk the cider, which meant he had to be important.

  The gentleman watched her as if there was a question he hoped she might ask. His lips curved into another smile that showed off those dangerous white teeth.

  Julian wrapped a protective arm around Scarlett. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped looking at my fiancée like that.”

  “That’s funny,” the gentleman said. “All this time, I thought she was my fiancée.”

  28

  Scarlett’s instincts told her to run, but her body refused to move. Bold colors swirled inside her.

  She heard the man say his name—Count Nicolas d’Arcy—as she felt Julian’s arm tighten around her shoulder.

  “I think you’re mistaken,” Julian said confidently. “You must have my fiancée confused with another. She’s been getting that all week. Haven’t you, love?” Julian squeezed her shoulder in a way that felt very much like a warning.

  But Scarlett remained in too much shock to move. The buttons had never been clues. The black box, containing the dress covered in buttons, had not been from Legend or her sister. D stood for d’Arcy.

  Like Legend, it seemed her fiancé was also fond of playing games. Though the longer Julian kept his arm wrapped around Scarlett, the less amused Count Nicolas d’Arcy looked.

  Scarlett could scarcely believe this was the same man who’d written her so many lovely letters. He didn’t appear to be mean or anywhere close to unattractive, yet he also didn’t feel anything like his letters. The count she’d corresponded with had seemed as if he couldn’t wait until they met so there’d be no more need for secrecy. Now she wondered if he hadn’t just written down all the things he imagined she wanted to hear, for this young man seemed far from transparent. He looked like the type who enjoyed keeping secrets.

  “I hope you’re not disappointed.” The count adjusted his cravat as a back door opened behind him and the tailor returned, along with another man. Lavender. Anise. Rotted plums.

  “Love, I think we need to leave now.” Julian wrenched open the front door at the same moment Scarlett’s father came into view.

  Every shade of purple flashed in front of her eyes.

  But Julian didn’t hesitate. The instant the count reached for Scarlett, Julian shoved over a pedestal of glass eyes and used the distraction to pull her under the arch of the door into a curtain of silver rain. Scarlett gripped his hand as her father’s angry words chased from behind.

  “Do whatever it takes to stop her!” he called.

  “Scarlett, you don’t need to run!” The count’s voice was not as harsh, but he ran fast, especially for a finely dressed gentleman.

  Scarlett tugged Julian toward a covered bridge that she hoped was the same tricky bridge from two nights before. But it wasn’t. Her father and the count continued to pursue them, through winding streets and brightly lit shops, past people who clapped as if it were part of the show.

  “This way—hold on.” Julian tore Scarlett from the slippery main road, toward the canals, ripping through a crowd of people all trying to reach shelter. “Hop in.”

  “But there’s lightning!” Scarlett said. “We can’t get in a boat.”

  “You have any better ideas?” Julian grabbed two oars as he leaped inside a crescent vessel.

  “Scarlett!” her father shouted through the rain. “Don’t do this—” His words were cut off by a strike of lightning and a clap of thunder. In the silver-streaked night, Scarlett witnessed something she’d not seen before.

  Her father looked afraid. Raindrops ran down his cheeks like tears. She was sure it was just a trick of the light, but for a moment she imagined her father actually loved her, that maybe deep down he really cared. Beside him, the count’s expression was concealed by the dark, but while they’d run, Scarlett would have sworn he’d appeared excited by the challenge she’d presented.

  Scarlett looked away and clasped her wet knees to her chest as Julian’s oars cut through the water. Even if her father was still capable of kindness, and even if the count had actually seemed like the type of man she’d thought he would be, Scarlett still couldn’t have brought herself to go back to either of them.

  She’d already made her choice, and she’d made it before she’d run out of the haberdashery with Julian. She didn’t know the exact instant when it happened, but an arranged
marriage to a man she knew only through letters was no longer something Scarlett wanted. Finally she understood what Tella meant when she’d said there was more to life than being safe.

  She watched Julian take another heavy pull with the oars while more lightning spiderwebbed across the sky. Before meeting him, she’d believed she could be content as long as she married someone who could take care of her, but Julian had brought out a desire for something more.

  She remembered thinking falling for him would be like falling in love with darkness, but now she imagined he was more like a starry night: the constellations were always there, constant, magnificent guides against the ever-present black.

  “Crimson, did you hear what I said?”

  Scarlett dropped her gaze from the sky to the soaking-wet boy in front of her. “What?”

  “We need to get out of the boat!” Julian shouted through the rain as they bumped against a darkened dock.

  “Where are we?”

  “Castillo Maldito.”

  “No—” Threads of violet panic returned. Nigel already told her Tella wasn’t in the Castillo. “We need to keep searching for my sister. I was wrong about the buttons, but there has to be—”

  “We can’t stay on the water,” Julian cut in. “The lightning will kill us.” As he spoke more bolts of silver-white slashed the sky.

  “But if my father finds her first—”

  “Do you even know where to look right now?”

  When Scarlett didn’t answer, Julian grabbed her hand and hauled her onto the dimly lit, shaking dock. The only light came from the Castillo’s massive hourglasses and the churning red beads inside them. Aiko must have been telling the truth about the rain washing all the magic away, for the Castillo no longer glowed. It had turned from golden to tarnished. In the courtyard, abandoned tents flapped in the wind, their tuneless beat replacing the vibrant music of the birds from nights before.

  “We need to find somewhere to dry off,” Julian said.