Caraval

Part 6 – NIGHT FOUR OF CARAVAL

As Scarlett left the inn, she didn’t smell even a hint of her father’s foul perfume. Right before they’d stepped outside, Julian had sworn he saw her father leave the building. But Scarlett continued tossing glances behind her, wondering if her father were somehow following, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

The delights of Caraval continued to dance all around her. Girls on sidewalk stages dueled with parasols, while bands of zealous participants continued to hunt for clues. Yet Scarlett felt as though the night had been knocked askew. The air was damper than usual. And the light felt unnatural as well. The moon was only a sliver, but it cast a silver glow over the usually colorful shops and turned the water into liquid metal.

“This plan still doesn’t feel right.” Julian lowered his voice as they entered the curving lane that wove around the carousel made of roses.

“A song for a donation?” asked the organist.

“Not tonight,” Scarlett said.

The man started playing just the same. This time the carousel didn’t turn. Its red flowers stayed in place, but the music was enough to muffle Julian’s words as he went on, “I think this hat shop you told me about is too obvious to be the final clue.”

“Maybe it’s so bold, everyone else has missed it.” Scarlett’s feet moved faster as they neared the triple-tiered dress shop where she’d purchased her gowns.

Heavy storm clouds had moved over the moon, and unlike the last time Scarlett was there, all the shop windows were dim. The hatter and haberdashery next to the dress shop was almost too dark to see. Yet its outline was unmistakable.

Rimmed in a wide moat of black flower boxes that circled the rounded two-story building like a brim, the place was shaped exactly like a top hat, with a path of buttons leading to its black velvet door.

“This really doesn’t feel like Legend,” Julian insisted. “I know he’s known for those ridiculous top hats, but he wouldn’t be this blatant.”

“It’s almost too dark to see the shop. I’d hardly call this obvious.”

“Something about this is wrong,” Julian spoke under his breath. “I think I should go in alone and check it out first.”

“Maybe neither of you should go in.” Aiko suddenly appeared by Scarlett’s side. Her skirt and blouse were silver this time, with eyes and lips painted to match. Like a teardrop the moon had cried.

“I’m so glad you decided to wear that dress.” She glided closer to Scarlett, nodding in approval. “I think it looks even better than the other night.”

Julian divided a look between the girls, made of equal parts confusion and distrust. “You two know each other?”

“We went shopping together,” Aiko replied.

Julian’s expression turned to stone. “You’re the one who convinced her to buy the dresses?”

“And you must be the one who left her waiting in a tavern?” Aiko raised two appraising eyebrows threaded with pearls, though she must have already known who Julian was from the drawings in her journal. “If you didn’t want her shopping, you shouldn’t have abandoned her.”

“I don’t care if she shops,” Julian said.

“Then you don’t like her dress?”

“Excuse me,” Scarlett interrupted, “but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

Aiko made an exaggerated point of looking the haberdashery up and down distastefully. “I recommend you both stay away from the hatter tonight. You won’t find any good deals in there.”

Thunder clapped above.

Aiko raised her head as drops of shimmering liquid fell from the sky. “I should go. I’ve never liked the rain; it washes all the magic away. I just wanted to warn you: I think you’re both about to make a mistake.”

Silver rain continued to fall while Aiko glided away.

Drops of wet clung to Julian’s dark hair as he shook his head, his expression conflicted. “You need to be careful with that one. Though I do think she’s right about this hat shop.”

Scarlett wasn’t so sure. Aiko’s dreams had given Scarlett some answers, but not all of them had been accurate. She had no idea whose side the girl was really on.

The rain fell a little harder as Scarlett marched closer to the doors of the hatter and haberdashery. Julian was right—it didn’t feel quite like Legend. There was nothing romantic or magical about it. Yet at the same time it felt like something. Scarlett had an emerald-green premonition that she would make a discovery inside.

“I’m going in,” Scarlett said. “The fifth clue requires a leap of faith. Even if this doesn’t lead me to Legend, it might take me closer to Tella.”

A bell tinkled as Scarlett pushed open the door to the unusual shop.

Peach bonnets, lime bowlers, yellow knit caps, velvet top hats, and flashy tiaras covered every inch of a domed ceiling, while pedestals of oddities sprouted up around the shop like bizarre wildflowers. There were bowls of glass shoehorns, lines of invisible thread, birdcages full of ribbons made of feathers, baskets brimming with self-threading needles, and cuff links supposedly made from leprechaun gold.

Julian trudged in after her, shaking rain from his person onto everything in sight, including the boldly dressed gentleman who stood at an angle a few feet from the door.

Even amid so many colors and fine things, this gentleman made a statement. Dressed in a deep red tailcoat and matching cravat, he looked as if he could be a decoration. The type of young man someone invited to a party just because he had a way of looking beautiful and intriguing at once. Underneath his coat, he wore a matching red vest that contrasted with both his dark shirt and snug-fitting trousers, which tucked neatly into tall silver boots. But what drew Scarlett’s attention most was his silk-trimmed top hat.

“Legend.” She gasped, her heart dropping into her stomach.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Ink-dark hair spilled across the corner of the gentleman’s forehead and grazed the tip of his black collar as he took off his top hat and set it on a display of identical-looking caps. “I’m flattered, but I think you have me confused with someone else.” He cracked an amused smile as he pivoted in Scarlett’s direction.

Beside her Julian tensed, and Scarlett froze as well. She’d seen this young man before. His face was not the kind a girl easily forgets. Long sideburns fed into a neatly trimmed beard, shaped like a work of art, outlining lips designed for dark whispers and straight white teeth perfect for biting into things.

Scarlett shuddered, but she didn’t look away. Her eyes continued to take him in, traveling upward until they reached his black eye-patch.

It was the same young man she’d seen the night her vision had gone black-and-white. He’d not noticed her then, but he watched her now. Intensely. His right eye as green as a fresh-cut emerald.

Julian edged closer, the damp of his coat sending crisp shivers over her arms. He didn’t say a word, but the look he cut toward the other young man was so clearly threatening, Scarlett swore she felt the room shift. The colors in the shop seemed to grow violently brighter.

“I don’t think he can help us,” Julian muttered.

“Help with what?” The gentleman had a slight accent that Scarlett couldn’t place. But even though Julian continued to give him murderous glances, his tone remained inviting. He looked at Scarlett almost as if he’d expected her.

He might not be Legend, but Scarlett sensed he was someone. She held out the buttons she’d collected during the game. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about them, but she hoped by showing him, he might open up some secret door, like the one she’d found in Castillo Maldito or Tella’s bedroom. “We were wondering if you could help us with this,” Scarlett asked.

The gentleman took her palm. He wore black gloves, yet Scarlett could feel that beneath the velvety fabric, his hands were soft. He was the sort of aristocrat who let others do his hard work.

He lifted Scarlett’s hand to take a closer look at the buttons, though his sharp green eye stayed on hers. Vibrant and elegant and poisonous.

Julian cleared his throat. “You might want to actually look at the buttons, mate.”

“I did. But I’m not really interested in trinkets.” The gentleman folded Scarlett’s fingers over her palm, and before she could pull away he kissed her hand, letting his lips linger much longer than necessary.

“I think we should go,” Julian said. His knuckles were white, his own hands clenched at his sides, as if he were holding back from doing something violent.

Scarlett debated leaving with him before anything regrettable happened. But a leap of faith wasn’t supposed to be easy. She reminded herself that this young man’s cravat had been in color after she’d drunk the cider, which meant he had to be important.

The gentleman watched her as if there was a question he hoped she might ask. His lips curved into another smile that showed off those dangerous white teeth.

Julian wrapped a protective arm around Scarlett. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped looking at my fiancée like that.”

“That’s funny,” the gentleman said. “All this time, I thought she was my fiancée.”