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Unwrapping the small knife, she offered it to him.
“Where the hell did you get that?” he asked, already reaching for his own jacket pocket.
“You gave it to me.” She met his eyes. “More than thirty years from now.”
Dakari took the same knife from his own pocket, a twin to the one he’d given her—the one she’d lost in the past and then found again. He looked down at the two matching blades. “My father carved this knife,” he told her. “There shouldn’t be another one like it.”
“I know,” she said, feeling a little more certain. “He gave it to you when you left for New York.”
Dakari let out an uneasy breath and looked at her with a mixture of wonder and fear. “I think I’d like to hear that story of yours now.”
MALOCCHIO
1902—St. Paul’s Chapel
Viola had known that she was a fool three times over for venturing to St. Paul’s the day of Ruby Reynolds’ wedding. What business did she have at the church where Ruby would be wed? What had she hoped to accomplish by putting herself through such a thing? She’d gone out that morning with the purpose of trying to forget the event was even happening, and somehow her feet had directed her to the chapel just the same.
At first she hadn’t gone in. Before the ceremony, Viola had watched from across the street as the guests began to arrive, all dressed in silk and lace. Then came the carriage decorated with swags of flowers and greenery, and within it, the bride. Viola had seen Ruby only from the back, a blur of ivory silk and tulle, but as she mounted the steps of the church, Viola felt her dark heart twist.
Suddenly, she hated Theo. She hated Ruby as well. Or she tried to.
She should have left. If Viola had even a little bit of anything at all between her ears, she would have. But her feet would not seem to go any direction but closer. When the bells had called out the hour and the organ had summoned the bride down the aisle, Viola could not stop herself from slipping into the back of the chapel. She waited until Ruby had finished her journey and had been given over to Theo’s keeping before she took a seat at the back of the church, far from the rest of the guests. But she still felt too close.
At the altar, Ruby stood next to Theo, hand in hand. Fair and slender and perfectly matched. But when Ruby turned to the guests sitting in the church, there was no joy in her expression. Then Ruby’s eyes found Viola’s, and the sadness turned to surprise. Perhaps even hope?
Viola’s heart had risen into her throat—but almost as soon as the moment had arrived, it was gone. Ruby turned back to the priest, who was asking for her intentions, and Viola realized it had all been a mistake. Her coming there. Her ever having hoped. A terrible mistake.
She didn’t remember standing, didn’t realize her feet were carrying her away from the church until she was nearly hit by a carriage when she stepped into the street. She’d pulled back just in time not to be flattened by hooves. Standing on the sidewalk, she ignored the curious looks of passersby as she tried to catch her breath. As she tried to keep her heart from crumbling to dust in her chest.
Finally, she forced herself to leave. She crossed the road without any care for her own safety. Darting between the carriages, she knew only that she had to get away—to escape—and she was nearly to the other side when the sound of an explosion drew her attention back toward the chapel.
Smoke was pouring from the church she’d just left, and the wedding guests were all fleeing, coughing and shouting as they fled from whatever was happening inside the sanctuary.
Viola didn’t hesitate. She ran toward the church, only barely conscious of the cold energy that flowed from within it. Without stopping, she plunged headfirst into the fleeing crowd, shoving past women clad in silk and men in crisply pressed wool as she pushed her way back to Ruby.
Inside, she could barely see through the thick smoke. The flames climbing up the walls behind the altar had started to spread. They were a strange greenish blue, but despite their brightness, they gave off no heat. Instead, they continued to produce more of the thick, pea-soup fog that had filled the sanctuary. It crackled with an unmistakable cold energy. But however much the fleeing guests were shouting about Mageus, Viola understood the truth. This was the work of corrupt magic, debased by ritual and controlled by someone without any affinity.
Which didn’t make it any less dangerous.
There was something else in the air as well—the sickening sweetness of opium. Its presence was cloying and heavy in the dense fog. Whoever had done this had come prepared.
From the front of the church, Viola heard a woman’s scream, and sending her affinity out into the chaos, she found the familiar pulse of Ruby’s heartbeat. It raced along, erratic, but alive just the same.
Viola took a shallow breath, trying to avoid the threat of the opium as she struggled through the fog until she’d reached the altar. She stopped short when she saw Ruby near the front of the church, not far from where she’d taken her vows with Theo at the altar.
At first Viola couldn’t understand what she was seeing. There was an enormous creature lurking over the altar. It was shaped something like a man—impossibly broad, impossibly tall. But the arms were too long and the neck too short for any human, and when it opened its mouth to roar, the strange flames burst forth from its open jaws, and more of the dark smoke flooded out. It looked as though it had been taken from a nightmare. It seemed to be made of darkness, or perhaps it had been formed from something like the strange fog that filled so much of the sanctuary. But Viola knew it was solid and alive because it was holding Ruby over its shoulder like she was no heavier than a rag doll.
Theo was trying to free Ruby by attacking the creature with the blunt end of a tall candelabra, but the heavy base sliced through the monster without so much as touching it. Its fog-formed body simply rippled, even as its enormous arms continued to hold Ruby tight. When Ruby screamed a warning to Theo, a ribbon of fog slid across her face, obscuring her mouth as completely as any gag.
Suddenly, Jianyu was there next to Viola, gasping for breath.
“I followed you,” he said simply, before she could even ask. He gave no more explanation but wore a look that said she should be thankful he had.
“It reminds me of the gala,” she told him. This creature wasn’t made from stone, but it seemed very much the same. Like that other creature, she could not sense a heartbeat. It contained no true life, no true magic.
Jianyu nodded his agreement. “If it is false magic, its master must be here, close. Rituals such as this cannot work without someone to direct them.”
“Jack Grew,” Viola said. He had wanted to frame Theo for stealing the ring, and he’d wanted Ruby dead long before this. Who else could it be?
