Legendary

NIGHT FIVE

OF CARAVAL

At first it seemed there were no stars. From below, the sky looked like a sparkling mirror of black. But from above, for one brief moment inside of her sky carriage, Tella could see the heavens were not all dark. A thin outline of white stars glittered in the shape of a heart. It encompassed most of Valenda, shining fairy-dust-thin light on the edges of the ancient city, hinting at bewitchment and spells and childhood dreams.

Tella leaned closer to the carriage window. Even with the incandescent starshine, it was too dark to clearly spy the people below. But she pictured those still playing the game rushing through the streets. No one had said anything directly to her, but Tella had overheard a few maids discussing how disgruntled everyone was that Elantine had cancelled night four of Caraval.

With her life dependent on the outcome of the game, Tella hadn’t wanted to miss out on a night of play either. But her body had greedily taken the rest. After Elantine’s dinner, Tella had slept and slept and slept. She’d half expected to wake covered in blood pouring from her eyes. But either Jacks had given her a reprieve, or the blood Dante and Julian had fed Tella was still working to counteract Jacks’s murderous kiss.

Unfortunately, she was not completely uncursed. Her heart once again beat slower than it should have.

Beat … beat.

Nothing.

Beat … beat.

Nothing.

Beat … beat.

Nothing.

Tella clutched at her chest and cursed Jacks. The extra missed beat felt like his way of nipping at her and urging her to hurry.

As her carriage descended on the Temple District, she pulled out the third clue, which she’d copied from the back of her mother’s poster, so that it would be easier to carry.

If you’ve found this you’re on the true track, but it’s still not too late to turn back.

Clues can no longer tell you where to head; to find the object Legend needs, your heart must lead instead.

Tella was now fairly certain the object she needed to win was her mother’s cursed Deck of Destiny. She also believed it was not just a game, and that Legend really wanted this deck. But she imagined he didn’t know where it was. So, through the clue, he’d instructed Tella to follow her heart, hoping she would know where her mother had hidden the cards.

A pungent cloud of incense surrounded Tella’s coach as it landed in the Temple District. Prayers and hymns still filled the streets, but it was not nearly as busy as it had been a few nights ago. No whispers of Legend reached Tella’s ears.

She appeared to be the only player whose heart had guided her here. Though it wasn’t so much her heart leading as her mother’s fiery opal ring, which Elantine believed was some sort of key connected to the Temple of the Stars.

Tella hoped the empress was right and that if it was a key, it would unlock the secrets Tella needed in order to find her mother’s Deck of Destiny. But Tella doubted it would be that simple, and the ring’s connection to the temple made her wary.

Religions practiced in Valenda appeared to be shrines of entertainment rather than sanctuaries of faith. But Tella had heard those who worshipped at the Temple of the Stars were true believers, willing to sacrifice youth, beauty, or whatever else the stars asked of them. And though Tella didn’t know much about the stars themselves, she’d heard the ancient beings were soulless, even less human than the Fates. It made her suspicious of anyone willing to join their congregation.

She tightened the rope at her waist, which held in place the flimsy sheath she’d asked a palace servant to procure. To gain entrance to the Temple of the Stars, she needed to look like an acolyte, docile and compliant, and dress in a horrid acolyte’s sheath.

She shivered at the wind slicing between her legs. Tella had never been modest but she felt as if she were only wearing a split sheet, held together by a knot tied at her shoulder and a braided cord around her waist. The cord dragged on the ground with her every step. Completely unflattering, and difficult to run in.

And everything about the Temple of the Stars made her want to turn and flee in the opposite direction.

Massive wings perched atop the temple’s domed roof, glowing as bright as fresh flames, and yet for all their magnificence, no one lingered outside of the temple’s great entrance. Perhaps that’s why there were so many statues littering its wide moonstone steps, giving the impression of visitors and life. Though anyone who looked at these sculptures up close would never have mistaken them for humans.

Thick and tall as temple columns, the men possessed muscled arms as large as tree trunks, while the women had been given overflowing breasts and eyes made of aquamarines. Tella imagined they were supposed to be the stars. They might have been beautiful, if she hadn’t also noticed the other statues. The smaller, thinner ones, on their knees before the stars. Disturbingly real and lifelike. Burning torches cast fireweed-red light on the human statues, on the beads of sweat at their temples and the calluses on their hands. Their feet were all bare, and some hunched in submission while others held out their arms, offering up swaddled babes or toddling children.

Tella choked on something that tasted like disgust as she wondered what her mother might have traded for the opal ring on Tella’s finger.

“If you don’t like this, you really won’t approve of what you find inside.” Dante leaned against one of the pillars flanking the temple’s massive door, all bronzed flesh and brilliant tattoos—

And, oh glory, he was shirtless.

So very shirtless.

Tella willed herself not to stare, to march past him and ignore him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him or prevent the rush of heat that spread across her chest and up her neck. She had seen young men unclothed before—she was fairly certain she’d even seen him without a shirt—but somehow Dante looked different at the top of those steps. Taller and thicker. More consuming. He was dressed like one of the statues, with only a wide white cloth wrapped around his lower half, accentuating the bronzed perfection of his legs and chest.

Tella snapped her mouth shut, but it was too late. He’d seen her jaw drop, and now the vainglorious bastard was smiling. All white teeth and flawless lips as if he were one of the stars worshipped inside the Temple. And Tella had to admit, in that moment he could have convinced her. Just like he’d managed to trick her into believing that he actually cared about her.

This was the first time she’d seen him since he’d carried her broken body away from Idyllwild Castle. She imagined he expected a thank-you for saving her that night. But after what he’d said to Julian, about only caring because she could lead them to the cards, Tella wasn’t about to thank Dante for anything. She wanted to say something witty or scathing, but to her horror all that came out was: “You should never wear a shirt.”

His grin was devastating. Dante pushed off the pillar then and propped an elbow against one of the statues closer to her. Moonlight danced over the thick black thorns tattooed across his clavicle while his dark eyes did the same to Tella. They slid up one slit of her dress until …

He scowled.

Something dipped in Tella’s stomach. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dante reached down, grabbed the end of the cord holding her scrap of fabric together, and tugged.

Every inch of Tella’s skin went hot. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you.” He inclined his head toward one of the female statues who wore a garment similar to Tella’s, only the rope around her middle started directly below her breasts and then wrapped around several times creating a diamond pattern until it knotted at the waist, leaving only two short tassels hanging near her curving hips.