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“Legend’s here,” Julian wheezed. “He’s doing this.”
“Use the key now!” Legend roared.
Scarlett couldn’t see him, but she didn’t hesitate to obey. She darted forward with Julian toward the door.
But Poison was still too close. He was caged, but that didn’t stop him from throwing out the contents of his goblet.
Julian shoved Scarlett behind him, blocking her from the toxin and letting it cover his chest and arms.
“No!” Scarlett screamed, grabbed Julian, and thrust the Reverie Key in the lock, as she thought of her sister and safety.
She found only one of them.
53
Scarlett
Scarlett fell through the doorway in a screaming blur of agonizing color. Blistering orange, searing yellow, and violent garnet. Her shoulders were burning. She’d felt the pain before, but now it was all she could feel.
“Get her damp towels and cold water.” A pair of strong hands picked her up and carried her to a cloud-like bed.
“No,” Scarlett choked. “Take care of Julian first.”
“I’m fine, Crimson.” Then he was next to her, holding a cold cloth to her shoulder, easing a bit of the burn as her head fell against downy pillows and the world went in and out of focus.
She didn’t know how long she lost consciousness for, but when it returned, she was in a cloud of pink and gold, back in her bedroom at the Menagerie, surrounded by marble columns, disturbing frescoes, and familiar faces. But Julian’s was the only face she truly saw.
The h
orrible mask was still covering half of his face. But the chains around his wrists were gone. He was standing up without any help. His chest was smooth and brown instead of red and sweating, and he was taking even breaths as he unfolded a damp cloth to cover her neck and her chest.
“Is this real?” she asked.
“You tell me.” He pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead with the side of his mouth.
“But … how are you unharmed?” Scarlett sputtered.
“You told me that we were getting through this together, or we weren’t getting through. And”—Julian’s brow wrinkled in something like confusion—“whatever was in Poison’s goblet healed me.”
“I wish some would have been poured on Scarlett,” Tella said.
Scarlett turned to see her sister. She was perched on the other side of the bed, her delicate hands pressing another cold cloth to Scarlett’s other shoulder. At first glance, she looked stunning in a gown covered with dark blue ribbons and pale blue lace. But when Scarlett looked closer, she saw her sister’s eyes were puffy and her cheeks were splotchy, as if she’d been fighting back tears all day.
“Tella? How did you get here?”
“I had a little help.” She nodded toward the columns flanking the window, and the room’s other guests. Fates.
Scarlett jolted back.
Tella had gone insane. She’d brought the Maiden Death, along with another cloaked Fate who looked extraordinarily out of place, as gauzy curtains fluttered behind him. He wore a rough woolen cape over slouched shoulders and a hood that kept his entire face concealed. Scarlett had to run through the list of Fates until she remembered the Assassin, the mad Fate who could travel through space and time.
“It’s all right,” Tella said, though Scarlett swore her sister’s voice was higher than usual, as if she was still convincing herself of this. “They want the same thing we do.”
Scarlett didn’t want to trust any of them. But, she knew her sister hated the Fates as much as she did. Tella wouldn’t have trusted these two without a good reason, and Poison had probably saved Julian’s life with whatever he’d thrown on him.
“Is Poison working with you two?” Scarlett asked.
“We have no alliance with Poison,” answered the Maiden Death as the Assassin shook his head.
