Finale (Caraval, 3)

Paloma looked like a wicked version of Scarlett. Tella didn’t know where her mother had found new clothes, but she now wore a floor-length black leather coat with short sleeves that showed off long garnet-red gloves. They were the same color as her corset top. On her legs, Paloma wore fitted bone-white breeches, which tucked into black leather boots that went over her knees. A dagger rested in a sheath, snug against her calf, while a thin silver rope wrapped around her opposite thigh like a pet snake.

She looked brutal and beautiful, like a criminal who’d just escaped from a Wanted poster—a myth who’d ripped herself free from a story to give it a different ending. And Tella desperately wanted to be a part of that ending.

“Please, don’t leave again!” Tella cried.

Then she was running, barreling through the cavern, leaping over the stream of red and into her mother’s arms. Tella hugged her with everything she had. Maybe if she held on tight enough she wouldn’t have to let go this time. Tella wanted a different ending, too. She wanted one with her mother and Scarlett, smiling and laughing and making wondrous plans for the future.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Paloma said, her voice sharp, and yet she didn’t release Tella. She stroked her ratted curls with a tenderness Tella had never been able to capture in her memories.

“I knew you’d be fierce,” Paloma said. “But, Donatella, this is a fight that will destroy you if you don’t walk away.” She dropped her arms.

“No!” Tella grabbed her mother’s wrists; she’d hold on for the rest of her life if she had to. “You belong with Scarlett and me. I don’t know what you think you need to do, but please come back to us.”

“I can’t.” Paloma tried to shake free, but Tella refused to let go. “You need to get out of here—it’s not safe.”

“My life hasn’t been safe since you left!”

Paloma’s hazel eyes turned glassy, and her voice gentled at last. “I hate that you’ve experienced so much pain. But I’m only going to bring you more. I’m the one who’s dangerous tonight, Donatella. I’m here because I need to kill someone.”

“No,” Tella argued, even as she felt the blood drain from her face. “You’re just saying that to make me leave.”

“I wish I were. But there are things from my past that I need to make right, and I won’t risk letting you and Scarlett get involved. I’ve made countless mistakes, but you and your sister are the only things I’ve made that have brought something better into this world.” Her daring smile returned, giving Tella hope that maybe her mother didn’t really want to do this. Tella only had to convince her of that.

“Just come back with me to say good-bye to Scarlett,” Tella pled. “She’s missed you too!”

“I wish I could.” Paloma reached up and cupped Tella’s jaw. “I would go with you, but I have to do this, or you and your sister will never be safe.”

She stroked Tella’s cheek, one gentle touch, before she slipped her gloved fingers to the back of Tella’s neck and pulled her closer. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry.”

Something sharp poked out from the tips of Paloma’s gloves and pricked Tella’s nape. She felt a bite of cold and a sense of liquid being injected into her veins.

“Wh—what—” Her tongue felt suddenly heavy and useless. She wanted to ask what her mother had done. She wanted to ask why she suddenly couldn’t move her arms or legs. She wanted to say so much more. But nothing came out except that one powerless what.

Her mother had only pulled her close so she could paralyze Tella with the tips of the gloves. This must have been what she’d done to the knocked-out guards.

“It will be all right,” Paloma soothed. Her hands hooked beneath Tella’s arms.

But nothing felt fine.

Tella couldn’t believe her mother had left her, then drugged her, or that she was now dragging Tella’s body toward the mouth of the cavern. Tella tried to fight, but her limbs wouldn’t obey—she could barely even feel them.

Her mother finally stopped at one of the cracked wheels of death—the kind circus performers strapped women to and then threw knives at while the wheel spun and spun. Her mother didn’t strap Tella to it, but she did tuck her behind it, hiding Tella between the circle and the granite wall.

No! Don’t do this! Tella tried to object, but her tongue was so thick and heavy she couldn’t even manage a squeak.

“You should fall asleep soon. Once you wake up, leave this city with your sister. I’ll find you when I can.” Paloma kissed Tella on the cheek, her lips lingering longer than before. But despite what she said, this did not feel like an I’ll find you later kiss. This was an I’m planning on never seeing you again kiss.

Mother! Tella tried to shake the numb from her limbs. She wasn’t passing out like the guards—her mother must have used up most of her poison on them. Tella could feel tingling in her toes, but she couldn’t get them to move. She couldn’t even crawl after her mother as she walked away. All Tella accomplished was a ragged breath, but the sound was so pathetic, it was muffled by the grate of footsteps entering the cavern. Heavy and pounding, the sort of footsteps that wanted to make an entrance.

Tella didn’t know if it was her mother’s drugs, but the air grew hotter as the menacing sound became louder. The intruder moved close enough for Tella to see a pair of masculine boots caked in dust. But the figure continued past, not even pausing as he spun the cracked circus wheel in front of her. It groaned alive, ticking like an off-kilter clock as it rotated.

Click.

Click.

Clack.

Tella didn’t like the sound, but it allowed her to view the cavern when the fractured wedge of the wheel rotated her way. Her first peek between the broken crack only lasted long enough to see that sparks now filled the cavern, as if the air was on the verge of catching fire. The tiny flames danced around the man, making the gold on his red military coat sparkle. He stood right in front of her mother.

Paloma looked much smaller than before as she lifted her face toward him expectantly.

“I feared I’d seen you for the last time,” she said.

The wheel continued to rotate, obstructing Tella’s view once more. When the crack reached Tella again, the intruder was stroking her mother’s hair. And her mother was gazing up at him with adoration in her eyes, as if she’d been waiting for this clandestine meeting even more than Tella had been longing to reunite with her.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“Gavriel.” Paloma said his name as if it were a secret that only she’d been told. “I’ve missed you so much. I hoped you’d come back to these ruins.”

The wheel continued to spin. When the fragmented piece came around again, the man’s hand was in her mother’s hair.

“You’re as beautiful as I remember,” he said. Then his lips pressed to hers, and Tella swore all the flames in the cavern surged brighter. The sparks in the air glowed like stars. Tella could feel their heat from behind the wheel.

Tella was going to be ill. She wanted the wheel to stop, to block her from seeing anything else, but instead it began turning faster, as if it was enthralled by the kiss. Tella prayed to the saints for the embrace to end, or that she’d at least regain her ability to move, to fully block it out. But her limbs remained numb and the kiss went on, intimate and burning and so, so very wrong.

Clearly, her mother hadn’t come here to murder anyone. She was here because she wanted to be with this man more than she wanted to be with her daughters. Tella might have felt a knot in her stomach if she’d had more sensation in her body.

“My memories of you did not do you justice.” His lips had moved to her jaw.

“I’m glad you missed me, too,” she said.

“I thought of you every day.” His mouth trailed to her ear, but what should have been a whisper echoed throughout the entire chamber. “I pictured all the ways I would get my revenge against you.”

Click.

Click.

Clack.

This love story had just gone very wrong. For several tense seconds Tella’s heart raced. She couldn’t hear anything other than the wheel until her mother’s strong voice grew louder when she said, “Gavriel, I made a mistake.”

“You forced me back inside that cursed Deck of Destiny once you learned I was a Fate. That’s a very intentional error, Paradise.”

God’s blood and teeth.

This man—this Fate—had been trapped in the cards too. Her mother had just kissed him. What was she doing? She’d pushed away her own daughter so she could cling to one of the monstrous immortals who only saw humans as pawns and fragile sources of entertainment. Tella didn’t know which Fate he was. He could have been the Assassin, the Fallen Star, the Poisoner, the Apothic, or Chaos. It didn’t matter—all of them were demons.

Tella wanted to scream at her mother to leave. But Tella’s tongue was still thick. Her lips were numb. All she could feel were a few rebel tingles, and even if her mouth had moved, even if she’d warned her mother, Tella doubted Paloma would have responded. Her mother already knew the man before her was a Fate, she probably knew which one he was and what terrible powers he had, and she didn’t appear to care.

Another spin of the wheel showed Paloma leaning into the Fate again. “I was warned that you’d kill me to keep yourself from falling in love with me,” Paloma said, her voice much more tender than the way she’d spoken to Tella earlier. “I panicked, Gavriel. I did what I thought I had to, to defend myself. We both do what it takes to survive; that’s one of the things we’ve always had in common. But I’ve regretted that choice ever since. Why do you think I’m here right now?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” he said.

Tella had met Fates before, the Prince of Hearts and the Undead Queen. This Fate’s voice was even colder, his presence more commanding and powerful, the little flames around him sparking with his every word. But Paloma didn’t pull away.

“There’s nothing to figure out. I’m here because I want to be with you.” She rose up on her toes.

The wheel whirled, blocking out what happened next, but the stretch of silence told Tella they were kissing again.

“Do you still want revenge?” Paloma gasped finally. “Or do you want to be with me, too?”

“Maybe revenge can wait.” His mouth returned to her mother’s.

Tella started to close her eyes; she couldn’t watch any more of this. But just as she was about to stop looking, she caught a glimpse of silver in her mother’s hands as Paloma pulled out a knife and quickly dug it into the Fate’s heart.

A roar echoed across the cavern.

Tella could have cheered. But she wasn’t sure what her mother was doing. Fates were immortals; if they died, they just came back to life. But maybe her mother knew something Tella did not. She held her breath as the wheel came around yet again.

But the Fate wasn’t lying on the ground or falling to a temporary death. He was standing, staring at Paloma as if she’d truly surprised him. Then, in a flash, too quick for Tella to see, his massive hand pulled out the dagger and thrust it into Paloma’s chest and twisted.

She let out a sound that Tella knew she’d hear in her nightmares forever. It rocked the cavern walls as Tella tried to scream too. But she couldn’t even manage to whisper. Her lips were still tingling with numbness. There was a similar prickling sensation in her limbs, but it wasn’t enough to move them.

She tried to crawl on her belly, out from behind the wheel and somehow save her mother, but all Tella could do was watch.

The wheel of death slowed to a crawl.

Click …

Click …

Clack …

Everything had been moving too fast, and now it was all going too slow.

When the wheel finished its turn, Paloma was totally still on the ground, while the bleeding Fate looked down on her.

Get up! Get up! Get up!

Tella finally got her fingers to move. Her toes were gaining feeling too.

But her mother wasn’t moving at all.

Tella dug her fingers into the ground until they started to bleed. But it wasn’t enough to propel her forward.

Even the wheel had ceased spinning. The Fate fell to his knees, but her mother remained on the ground.

Tella managed to crawl forward an inch. She wasn’t ready to give up yet. Her mother couldn’t be dead. Her mother was too strong to die. Tella had fought too hard to lose her. The story wasn’t supposed to end this way.

I will rip your arms from your chest! “You sonofa—”

A hand clamped over her lips. Cold and sweet, like apples and Fated magic.

“Quiet, my love,” Jacks whispered. “There’s nothing you can do for her now except keep yourself alive.”

His cool fingers stayed in place until after Gavriel finally died from the wound her mother had inflicted. His massive body fell to the ground. The cavern should have filled with silence, but Tella could hear the pieces of her heart as it shattered.