Legendary

by Stephanie Garber

  “Are you crying?” Jacks asked.

  “Don’t you dare criticize me for it.”

  His hands tensed. A flash of cold kissed Tella, a reminder of Jacks before his heart had started beating again. “If you’re crying about Legend, don’t. He doesn’t deserve it. But if this is about the cards”—Jacks looked down on her, and for a lightning-brief moment all the indolence and carelessness left his expression—“I did the same thing. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t cry.”

  “I thought you weren’t human.”

  “I’m not. But there was a time when I was. Thankfully it didn’t last too long,” he added, but Tella thought she heard a hint of regret.

  She craned her neck to look up at him. He met her gaze and she swore his softened with something akin to concern, his silver-blue eyes tipped down, teardrops about to fall.

  “Why are you being so nice?” she asked.

  “If you think I’m nice, you really need to spend time with better people.”

  “No, you’re being kind. You’re holding me all close and saying personal things. Do you love me now?”

  He answered with a mocking laugh. “You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you?”

  Tella gave him a saucy smirk. “I made your heart beat. That practically makes me a Fate.”

  “No,” Jacks answered tightly, all hints of humor vanishing. “You’re still very human, and I do not love you.”

  His hands went so cold she half expected him to drop her and leave her the same way Legend had. But for some reason Jacks kept her close. His arms stayed around her as he carried her into a sky carriage. It had buttery cushions laced with thick royal-blue trim that matched the curtains lining the oval windows. She wondered if it was the coach they’d first met in, the same tiny box he’d threatened to shove her out of just to see what would happen. She went a little stiffer in his arms at the thought. Even though he was being gentle with her, he was far from kind or safe.

  “Did you just remember how much you don’t like me?” he asked.

  “I never forgot. I was thinking of the first time we met. Did you know who I was?”

  “No.”

  “So, you’re just that charming to everyone you meet?”

  His hand slowly stroked her arm; his fingers weren’t as icy as before his heart started beating, but they were still cool to the touch. “When I possessed my full powers, I could do the vilest of things. I could speak words far worse than what I said to you in the carriage, and people would still willingly betray their mother or their lover to please me. Although those powers are gone, being heir to a throne has a similar effect.” The eyes that met hers were the color of frost, and as dispassionate as they were unapologetic. “No one likes me, Donatella, but people go along with whatever I say. Sometimes my only form of entertainment is seeing how far I can take things before someone flinches.”

  “You really have no feelings at all, do you?”

  “I feel.”

  “But not like humans?”

  “No. It takes far more for me to feel something, and when I do it’s infinitely stronger.” Jacks removed his hand from her arm, but for one splintering moment Tella felt his fingers harden like metal.

  When the coach landed at the palace the air was thick with celebratory smoke. Jacks didn’t even ask if Tella’s limbs were working again. He scooped her listless body up once more and carried her from the carriage house as a final brilliant blue firework burst above, raining down sapphire shine over every inch of Elantine’s jeweled palace.

  Jacks’s eyes flashed quicksilver in the light with something a little too inhuman to be called sorrow, and yet that was the only word Tella had for it.

  “Why aren’t you watching the fireworks with the empress?” she asked.

  “Didn’t you hear? Her missing child returned, and Elantine has officially recognized him, which means I’m no longer heir.”

  Tella did not feel sorry for him. Jacks’s reign would have been a plague to the entire Meridian Empire. And yet something about the situation stirred up a sense of unease. When Elantine had talked of her lost child earlier that night, it hadn’t sounded as if a mother and child had been reunited. It made Tella think that Elantine’s new heir was an imposter, a pretender who only existed to keep Jacks from the throne.

  It should have impressed Tella that the empress had done what she’d needed to protect the Empire from Jacks. But something about it didn’t feel right.

  “Don’t faint on me,” Jacks said. “I’d rather not face the wrath of your sister.”

  “I’m not faint,” Tella lied. “And, speaking of my sister, you still never told me what she was doing with you the other night in the carriage.”

  “Kissing me passionately.”

  Tella choked on a breath.

  The corner of Jacks’s mouth twitched. “Don’t die on me now. It was a joke. You told your sister that I found your mother, so she wanted me to help her find someone, too.”

  This was much better but still disconcerting. “Who was she looking for?”

  “Not the boy she’s sitting with right now.” Jacks pivoted slowly in the direction of the stone garden.

  The air was warmer, as if this corner of the palace grounds was untouched by anything ill. Yet the statues appeared more distressed than the last time Tella had seen them. They all flinched and recoiled more than before. It was as if they knew that Legend had just released the Fates back into the world—the same Fates who’d long ago turned this garden full of human servants into unmoving stone because they’d wanted more lifelike decorations.

  Tella shivered in Jacks’s arms.

  Scarlett appeared oblivious to it all. She and Julian sat huddled on a bench in the center of the statues, looking gloriously back in love. Tella swore there were night-blooming butterflies frolicking around their heads.

  At least one sister had found happiness that night.

  “Did you two finally make up?” Tella mumbled.

  Scarlett and Julian straightened abruptly. Then Scarlett was off of the bench, flying toward Jacks and Tella’s limp figure.

  “What did you do to my sister?” Scarlett’s lacy white gloves turned to formidable black leather as she pointed at the Fate.

  She might have done more than point if Julian had not wrapped a restraining arm around her waist. He was costumed as Chaos, dressed in heavy armor and a pair of spiked gauntlets that made him look as if he were ready to jump into battle. But Tella saw genuine fear simmering beneath the surface of his rugged features. Unlike Scarlett, he must have known that Jacks was the Prince of Hearts. And if Julian was truly Legend’s brother, he must have wondered why the Fate was still alive.

  Jacks merely sighed. “Does no one in this family say thank you?”

  “Every time I see you, my sister is hurt,” Scarlett said.

  “Not every time.” Jacks flashed his teeth as his eyes quickly cut from Julian back to Scarlett. Tella didn’t know what Jacks was silently saying, but whatever it was it made Scarlett’s mouth snap shut.

  “And this really wasn’t my fault,” Jacks continued. “Your sister won the game. But it took a lot out of her. She collapsed in the Temple District and Legend, being the gentleman that he’s not, just left her there.”

  “You met Legend?” Scarlett asked, her tone both curious and suspicious. It matched the fractured expression on Julian’s face, as if he, too, was both surprised and nervous. Whenever Scarlett was in a room his eyes were always on her, but now he watched Tella, as if he was afraid of what she might say next.

  “I—” Tella’s tongue grew suddenly thick and Jacks’s arms became instantly tense. This must have been why’d he’d been playing at being so concerned; he still wanted Legend’s identity to get his full power back, so that he could do more than just kill with a kiss. But even if Tella had been willing to share Legend’s secret with him, the weight of her tongue and the press of magic against her throat made her feel as if she wouldn’t be able to reveal it no matter how

hard she tried.

  “I don’t remember much of it,” Tella hedged. Then she spared a glance for Julian. “As soon as I won the game, Legend walked away.”

  A flash of relief lit Julian’s eyes.

  Scarlett’s expression turned more wary.

  Jacks took a heavy breath, his chest slowly moving up and down against Tella’s back. “I think it’s time I go. Your mother still needs finding.”

  “No!” Tella said.

  Scarlett went stiff.

  Jacks’s brows danced up. “After all this, you don’t want to see her?”

  “Of course I want to see her. I don’t want you touching her.”

  “I’ll put some gloves on,” Jacks said. Then, more softly in Tella’s ear, “People know it’s never a good idea to make a bargain with a Fate, but they do it anyway, because we always keep our word. I told you that if you won the game I’d reunite you with your mother, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Jacks carefully placed Tella in the cold hold of a statue with outstretched arms.

  For a moment she felt a perverted urge to thank him. But he was the last being she would ever thank. “I still hate you,” she said.

  “It’s probably for the best.”

  His footfalls made no sound as he exited the garden. As soon as he was gone, Scarlett helped Tella down from the statue’s stiff embrace.

  Tella’s legs still felt watery but she could stand as long as Scarlett kept an arm around her. She leaned into her sister’s softness. The air in the garden remained warm, but cold was seeping in. Frost was forming on the forlorn statues and the night butterflies were gone.

  “Can we go back to the palace?” Tella mumbled.

  “Of course,” Scarlett said.

  “Do you need any help?” Julian asked.

  Scarlett gave a quick shake of her head and something unspoken passed between them. Julian pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and then he turned back to Tella. Something like sympathy filled his amber eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t mention his name, but Tella knew he was talking about Legend. “He can make someone the center of his world when they’re a part of his game. But when the game ends, he always walks away and he never looks back.”

  Tella sensed Julian was trying to be helpful, but somehow he made it a little worse.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m just glad the game’s over.”

  Julian pulled at the back of his neck. Tella feared he was going to say something else, something that would be harder to dismiss without a show of emotion. But she imagined he was more eager to find his brother than continue a conversation with her. Julian must have known things hadn’t gone as planned the moment she’d shown up in Jacks’s arms.

  Without another word he left the garden and disappeared into the night.

  The minute he was gone, Scarlett turned back to Tella with eyes full of her own questions. Tella didn’t know if her sister wanted to ask about her mother, or the game, or what Tella had done that had put her in such a weakened state.

  All Tella knew was that she didn’t want to fight or argue or see any disappointment on her sister’s face. Scarlett deserved answers, but Tella wasn’t ready to get into the entirety of her story. She just wanted someone to comfort her and take care of her until the dawn.

  Scarlett held her fiercely. “I’m ready to listen whenever you want to talk.”

  “I’d rather forget.” Tella sagged against her sister. She didn’t mean to say anything, but once she started speaking the rest slipped out. “I made a mistake, Scar. I never wanted to fall for anyone, but I think I’ve fallen in love with Legend.”

  ELANTINE’S

  DAY

  43

  It was the quietest Elantine’s Day the Meridian Empire had ever witnessed. After a week of burning constellations and buildup, all of the empress’s birthday celebrations had been cancelled due to Elantine’s continued state of failing health. Her people had been informed of her illness that morning, and the entirety of Valenda was in a somber mood. Even the sun didn’t shine quite as bright; it seemed content to hide behind clouds. Only one corner of it peeked out, sending a ray of light into the room where Donatella Dragna sat with her sister, Scarlett.

  For her part, the younger Dragna sister felt as if she’d entered a world where both her dreams and nightmares had collided.

  She’d dreamed of her mother so many times. Usually it was nightmares where her mother had abandoned Tella all over again. But occasionally, Tella had dreams where her mother returned. It always happened the same way. Tella would be asleep in her dream, and then her mother would wake Tella with a tender kiss on the forehead. Tella’s eyes would flutter open, then her arms would fly around her mother’s neck, and indescribable joy would take over.

  It always felt like the urge to cry mingled with the need to laugh; the kind of happiness that was almost painful. It pressed against Tella’s chest, making it hard to breathe and difficult to form words. And it should have been even more potent now that her mother was returned.

  She lay atop Scarlett’s bed, as peaceful as a doomed damsel in distress, all pale cheeks, dark hair, and unnaturally red lips. Tella tried not to be concerned by the exaggerated colors of her mother’s lips and skin, reminding herself that for years she’d been a painting on a card, not a woman.

  Her mother was now free, and it was because of Tella. That victory alone should have given Tella wings to soar around the room, out the window, and over the glass courtyard below. But the idea of wings made Tella think of a pair of wings tattooed on a beautiful back. Which then conjured thoughts of the one person she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. Legend.

  Her veins heated at the thought of his name.

  She had no idea where he’d gone after he’d left her on the steps outside of the Temple of the Stars. And she didn’t want to wonder about it. She didn’t want to replay every encounter she’d had with him, every word he’d said to her, every look he’d given her, or every kiss they’d shared. Each memory hurt, behind her eyes, in her lungs, and in her throat, growing uncomfortably tight whenever she recalled their last moment together.

  It felt like weakness to keep thinking of him. Tella knew she’d have had to be completely unfeeling to have banished him from her thoughts after all they’d experienced. And Tella never wanted to be unfeeling. But she didn’t want to be consumed with him, either.

  The only way to stop her thoughts of him was to keep focusing on her mother, who was there and would eventually wake up.

  Tella was still stunned Jacks had kept his promise and returned Paloma to her. Maybe he was in love with Tella after all. She was his one true love. Although Tella imagined that being the object of a Fate’s affections was a dangerous thing. But she wasn’t worrying about the Fates for now. Jacks had made it clear that it would take the Fates longer than it would take her mother to wake up.

  Tella wiped Paloma’s head with a cool cloth, not that it made any difference. Her mother didn’t have a fever. But Tella felt better if she was doing something.

  “She doesn’t look as if she’s aged at all since she left,” Scarlett said. “It’s not natural.”

  “I’m fairly certain nothing about being imprisoned in a card is natural,” Tella said.

  This earned her a deeper frown.

  As soon as the sisters had reached the palace the night before, Tella had fallen asleep in her sister’s bed. She’d woken up when Jacks had returned with her very unconscious mother. He hadn’t mentioned where he’d found her, but he’d let something slip about how she’d been trapped inside of a card and how Tella had made a great sacrifice to save her.

  Tella had hoped this would be one of those occasions where her sister would choose to ignore the subject of their mother. But it’s rather difficult to ignore someone when they’re lying in the room looking cursed. Scarlett had questioned Tella relentlessly, until she’d confessed everything.

  Scarlett had not handled most of it well, especially the bit about Tella taking their mother’s place inside of a card. After begging Tella never to risk something like that again, Scarlett had turned her anger on their mother; she couldn’t look at Paloma without scowling.

  Tella couldn’t blame her sister. Underneath all the anger, Tella detected that Scarlett harbored a fair amount of guilt for being unaware of so many of the things that went on during Caraval, and that the game was very real this time. Though none of it was Scarlett’s fault. And surprisingly, Tella couldn’t bring herself to regret anything she’d done. Though she wished she hadn’t fallen so far for Legend, which thankfully her sister wasn’t mentioning.

  Tella was curious to know if Julian had told Scarlett that Dante was Legend, since his identity seemed to be the one thing Tella was physically incapable of talking about. Scarlett had shared with Tella that she was giving Julian another chance. Sensitive to Tella’s current feelings about Legend and Caraval, Scarlett had not gone into too many details about it. But Tella imagined her sister wouldn’t have completely forgiven Julian unless he gave her more than a few smoldering looks and kisses, which made Tella suspect her sister was more aware of Legend’s true identity than she’d let on the night before.

  “What if we play a game,” Tella suggested. “Do you have a deck of regular cards?” She opened the drawer of the nightstand next to Scarlett’s bed.

  “Don’t!” Scarlett leaped up.

  If she hadn’t reacted so strongly, Tella might have shut the drawer without looking too hard. But the minute Scarlett shouted, Tella’s interest intensified.

  There was a book inside the drawer, a fancy red leather thing, with an equally fine-looking letter poking out from beneath it.

  “What’s this?” Tella plucked the note from under the book. It was addressed to Scarlett. Tella didn’t recognize the return address but she was familiar with the name above it: Count Nicolas d’Arcy.

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