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If her mother’s Deck of Destiny had been the one imprisoning the Fates, it explained why her mother had been terrified to find Tella playing with the cards. Tella remembered how they’d been disguised as a foul-smelling sachet until that day. The spell concealing them must have been wearing off when Tella found them.
Tella couldn’t believe she’d touched the deck holding all the Fates—the mythic Fates who’d once ruled the world had been in the palm of her hand.
It seemed impossible, and yet she’d witnessed the proof every time the Aracle had shown Tella images of the future. She’d never seen another card like it, and she doubted she ever would. Because it wasn’t merely a card. It was a Fate, and Tella had it tucked inside of a little trunk.
She squeaked out a laugh at the thought. Her mother must have been a force, to steal the Fates.
But now her mother was powerless, trapped inside of a card, exactly like the Fates.
Tella did not laugh at this thought. Suddenly she regretted having laughed at all.
Since the miserable day her mother had left, Tella had believed it was partially her fault, that if she hadn’t disobeyed her mother and played with her jewelry box, and if she’d never flipped over the card with the Maiden Death, which predicted the loss of a loved one, then her mother would have never vanished. Tella blamed the cards and herself. And she had been right, though not in the way she’d always believed.
Her mother hadn’t left merely because Tella had turned over a particular card; she’d fled because Tella had found the cards, and the cards were even more powerful and dangerous than Tella had ever imagined.
The posters on the walls finally stopped flapping. In their wake the shop went suddenly quiet. Yet Tella still felt the stare of her mother’s poster, giving Tella the feeling that despite what she’d just learned, she didn’t know nearly enough. There was something vital she was leaving out—something she’d forgotten.
“You look as if you have another question,” Aiko said.
Tella had briefly forgotten the other girl was there, and why Tella was really there as well. She still needed to find the third clue, or her mother would stay trapped just like the Fates. Tella didn’t think this was the something she’d forgotten, but whatever she couldn’t remember couldn’t have been as important as this.
Tella pulled out the second clue once more.
* * *
THE GOAL OF THIS GAME IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK,
TO FIND THE TRUTH SEEK THE WOMAN
OF PARCHMENT AND INK.
SHE ALONE HOLDS THE NEXT CLUE,
WHICH WAS LEFT ONLY FOR YOU.
* * *
Tella’s eyes went from the clue to her mother’s Wanted poster.
What if the clue wasn’t referring to the woman who drew the pictures, like Tella had first thought? What if it was referring to a woman on one of them, like Paradise the Lost? Her rendering was made of parchment and ink. And her picture spoke to Tella in a way that it could not have called to anyone else playing the game.
Tella hopped up on her tiptoes and ripped the poster from the wall.
She’d expected a protest from Aiko, but the girl appeared almost as eager as Tella felt when Tella flipped over the parchment and discovered lines of silvery writing on the back.
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.
The only thing in her heart was her mother, whom Legend must have known about since he’d written the clue on the back of her poster. But what did her mother have to do with Caraval?
Her mother had possessed the deck imprisoning all the Fates, and Legend wanted to destroy all the Fates. Maybe her mother had also stolen the object capable of destroying the Fates? But if she had, why—
No. Tella pushed the thought away. Believing the game was real was the quickest path to madness. And yet maybe Tella was already going mad, because she was no longer certain what she believed anymore.
