Finale (Caraval, 3)

Tella didn’t know what pure anticipation smelled like until she reached Legend’s Midnight Maze. The scent of red cloves and growing leaves permeated everything.

She had expected simple leafy green hedges, but she should have known better than to attach the word simple to anything involving Legend. Each living wall was formed of different rare flowers. Burning orange starfire lilies. Deep purple twilight thistles. Brilliant gold creeping faisies. Champagne delights. Scorching red feverbells. All of which grew and stretched with every person that stepped inside.

During her first Caraval, Tella had learned emotions were one of the things that fueled magic, making her wonder if Legend became stronger the more people enjoyed his party, and as a result, the glamour and illusion of the party also grew.

Not that Tella had seen Legend. But she’d heard a few whispers about how magnificent His Handsomeness looked tonight. Apparently, the nickname hadn’t just been part of her dream. But Tella still felt a possessive urge to snap at anyone who uttered it.

Her nerves over what Legend might ask and how she would respond attacked, knotting her up as she slipped deeper into the maze. The fireflies had arrived, making everyone she passed appear a little enchanted as their laughter and flirtations tripped over her head.

Contrary to what the name implied, the Midnight Maze did not begin at midnight. It started around sundown when the horizon was a battle of colors, as if the clouds were trying to break free from the sky. They were probably attempting to reach the maze, which was full of even more colors.

Tella wouldn’t have been surprised if some of it was Legend’s doing. With so many enthusiastic emotions swirling around the maze, his magic should have been growing stronger. Perhaps that was another reason why he’d wanted to go through with hosting the maze—he needed it to fuel his powers before the Fates finished waking up.

“Oh, look!” a nearby partygoer exclaimed. “That door just sprung up in the middle of the hedge. Let’s see if it takes us to the center of the maze.”

Tella heard a rustle of dancing skirts and a muttered “Gentlemen first.”

Then the giggling pack of people in front of her was gone, vanished through a door bursting with celestial blue dragonsnaps that disappeared along with them. Only a hovering parade of fireflies and a patch of near-silence remained. All Tella could hear was the flutter of wings, soft as dreamy lullabies and delicate as butterflies.

Her skin tickled with fluttering that she only usually felt in her stomach as she looked down to see her dress coming to life with the beat of a hundred wings. Tella laughed and butterflies burst free from a skirt that had been inanimate only moments ago.

Legend was there.

He had to be nearby. He was bringing her dress to life and making the maze shift in front of her eyes. It moved more rapidly than before, growing taller and thicker and stronger. Leafy crenulations formed at the top of it, giving everything an enchanted castle-like appearance.

She chased after the butterflies leaping off her dress until she found a glowing archway formed of dazzling white diamond peonies.

As soon as she was through the arch, the flowers moved behind her, sealing her away from the rest of the party and leaving her alone with Legend.

She took several heartbeats just to drink him in.

A dusting of bronze light surrounded him, making his skin glow and his eyes look a little brighter, as Legend leaned against a leafy wall on the opposite side of the enclosure. He was dressed in shades of charcoal black except for the deep red trousers he wore, tucked into tall polished boots. His coat was longer than usual, nearly to the ground, with a regal high collar lined in intricate thread the same color as the bronze light surrounding him, as if bits of the setting sun had stayed behind just to cling to him.

“You’re such a show-off,” she teased.

He gave her a devastating grin. “Only when I’m trying to impress a girl.” His eyes took their time looking her over, sparking a little as they lingered on the delicate ribbons that made up her bodice, before finally meeting her eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He pushed off the wall and stalked closer. But, for once, instead of hearing the confident stride of his boots, all she could hear were the words he’d written in his note: I meant what I said about wanting you.

More butterflies took off from her skirt as Legend stopped right in front of her, close enough to touch. The world no longer smelled like anticipation. It smelled like him. Like magic and heartbreak.

Please don’t break my heart again, she thought. Even if he didn’t ask her to marry him, he looked as if he was going to ask for something. Their secluded corner of the maze was growing brighter, full of infant stars that glittered and danced and shined, but Legend’s gaze remained firmly on hers, intent and intense and as intimate as any touch.

Her breathing turned shallow.

His mouth twitched at the corner. “Have I scared you already?”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“I thought I already told you, I’m only trying to keep you.” His lips brushed a kiss to hers.

The maze, the party, the world, disappeared. His mouth was soft and then it was gone.

It happened so fast, Tella might have thought she imagined it if not for the teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“I came here to claim a prize, not to be played with.” Tella held out a hand as if to collect.

Legend laughed, deep and rumbling. “I’ll always want to play with you. But tonight I’m not playing. I want you, Donatella Dragna. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I’ve never asked anyone this, either.” His voice dropped so low it made her toes curl inside her slippers and half the butterflies on her skirt take flight.

Scarlett was right. He was going to propose.

His eyes grew brighter and his smile turned tempting. “I want to keep you, Tella. I want to make you immortal.”

Everything inside of Tella went still. Immortal. He was asking to make her immortal, not to marry him.

“I’d say you could take all the time you need to think about it. But now that the Fates are awake, I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to risk losing you.” Legend’s hands wrapped around her waist. He looked as if he wanted to kiss her again, but this time it wouldn’t be just a quick brush of his lips. She could feel his hands growing hotter as his fingers spread out over her rib cage.

If she leaned in, he’d kiss her until it consumed her, until she couldn’t breathe without him and she gasped yes to whatever he asked.

Tella let him hold on, but she didn’t lean in. She hadn’t been entirely prepared for him to propose and she definitely wasn’t prepared for this. “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking. Are you offering to make me one of your performers?”

“No.” His fingers stroked up and down her waist. “You’d be different. My performers aren’t immortal, just ageless. My magic keeps them from growing old, but I can only bring them back to life during Caraval, when my power is at its peak. Outside of Caraval, there’s nothing I can do for them. But as an immortal, if you died, you would always come back. No one could kill you. You’d never grow old or weak or frail. You’d be young and strong and alive forever.”

The lights around them glittered like gems, spinning and whirling and promising that a forever with Legend would be full of magic as well. It’d be like living in one of his dreams. But for some reason, Tella couldn’t bring herself to say yes.

Legend’s mouth turned down, and his hands tightened around her waist. “I thought you’d be more excited. This way we can be together.”

He still looked as if he wanted to kiss her, but rather than lean in, his fingers toyed with the ribbons of her bodice, carefully loosening them so his hands could reach through to brush her bare back.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Only the tips of his fingers touched her skin but Tella felt it everywhere. He’d told her that he wasn’t playing with her tonight, but he definitely was—though she wondered if he even realized it.

People didn’t really matter to Legend. People were game pieces inside of his world. He’d even turned the witch who’d created him into a sacrificed pawn so that he could go on. And yet, despite everything, Tella wanted to believe he didn’t see her that way. Rather than preserve herself, she wanted to persevere. She wanted to believe he wouldn’t break her heart again. She wanted to believe he wasn’t manipulating her, that she was his one exception. But maybe Legend didn’t know how to make exceptions. Maybe he deceived everyone.

He said he’d never had feelings like this before, and he’d never offered to make anyone immortal, but he’d not bothered to mention the one weakness she’d learned about last night.

Immortals cannot love. Love is poison to us. Love and immortality cannot coexist.

On very rare occasions we come across humans who tempt us to love.… If an immortal feels love for even a minute, they become human for that minute. If the feeling lasts too long, their mortality becomes permanent.

Suddenly everything became clear. Tella understood why Legend showed up in her dreams but kept his distance, refusing to touch her until tonight, right before making an offer to change her. Last night she’d thought Legend had real feelings for her—that he could love her. But it was the opposite. Legend wasn’t changing—he was hoping to change her.

And she didn’t believe it was so that she wouldn’t die. Legend wanted to make her immortal so that he wouldn’t die.

He didn’t love her. He was afraid of falling in love with her, because love was his one weakness. If Legend loved her, he’d lose his immortality and become human. But he wouldn’t have to worry about it if she was immortal, because immortals couldn’t love each other.

Immortals felt obsession, fixation, lust, possession. And Legend was clearly experiencing those things. Tella sensed it with each press of his fingers, as he continued to toy with the ribbons of her bodice and brush hot touches against her skin.

She jolted back, eyes opening as she ripped free from his arms.

Legend blazed brighter, the bronze light around him making everything glow. He usually looked human, but for an instant he looked painfully immortal as his perfect lips pulled into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Last night, I found out what your weakness is.”

His shoulders stiffened. “What were you told?”

“That if you come across a human who makes you feel love, then you become mortal, and if the feeling lasts too long, then the change becomes permanent. Which makes me think that you don’t want to change me to keep me alive, you only want to change me to keep yourself alive.”

“No.” His answer was unyielding and immediate. “That’s not why I want to do this. I want you to be immortal so that you won’t die.”

“But I don’t want your immortality, Legend. I want your love.”

He took a step back. She didn’t even think he realized he was doing it. “I can’t give you that.”

“Yes, you can. You just refuse to choose love over immortality.”

The light in his eyes went out and the world became a little darker. “Even if that was true, could you blame me?”

“No,” Tella said honestly. “But I don’t want to be like you. That’s why I can’t let you make me immortal.”

His eyes met hers again. The light was still gone but they shimmered in a way that reminded her of all the magical things he could offer. “You’ll feel differently if you let me change you.”

“But I don’t want to feel differently. I want to feel love in its every form. I used to be so scared of it, but now I think love is another type of magic. It makes everything brighter, it makes people who have it stronger, it breaks rules that aren’t supposed to exist, it’s infinitely valuable. I can’t imagine my life without it. And if you felt any love in your heart, you would understand.”

Tella met his darkened eyes.

A flicker of pain fell over his face. But whether it was real or to convince her to go along with what he wanted, Tella couldn’t tell. “You’ll die, Donatella.”

“I already have.”

“But you won’t come back this time.”

“Most people don’t, but that’s not why you’re offering me this. This makes things easier for you. You don’t want to love me and lose your immortality.”

His mouth parted and closed and parted again, and for a brief moment before he spoke he looked entirely lost. “It’s not that I don’t want to love you, Tella. I can’t love you.” His voice was flat and empty and utterly sincere. It didn’t just sound as if he was saying this because he was an immortal, but because he truly believed that he was incapable of the feeling. If that was true, if he really thought himself heartless, then maybe he hadn’t actually been tempted to love her. Maybe he just wanted to possess her. I want to keep you.

“You’re not thinking this through.” Legend reached for her hand.

A week ago, her heart would have soared because he wanted to touch her. But she forced herself to take another step back. She wasn’t tempted by immortality, but she was tempted by him. She couldn’t touch him again if she was going to do this. “I don’t need to think about it. Sometimes you just know. And I know that I can’t imagine spending an eternity with someone who will never love me.”

She turned to leave.

“Tella, wait—”

She pressed forward. She didn’t even let herself look back. The archway she’d walked through to meet him was gone. A flowering wall had taken its place. The velvety petals felt real against her skin. But she knew it was just an illusion. Almost as soon as she touched them, Legend parted the flowers and hedgy branches to let her through.

The leafy passageway before her was dimmer than she remembered. The fireflies had gone, and a chill had crept into their place. Bumps crawled over the back of her neck. The chill should have felt good after her heated conversation, but the wind sweeping through was fetid and wrong, a dream gone awry.

When she strained to hear, there was no more distant party laughter; any footsteps she picked up were harsh, fleeting.

Something was wrong.

“Tella—” Legend grabbed her hand, appearing by her side.

“Please, just let me go.”

“This isn’t about us—” He cut off. His grip on her tightened. He winced, face paling as the glow around him faded.

“What’s wrong?” Tella asked.

More frantic footsteps echoed in the distance, followed by a series of muffled cries. Leaves poured off the walls of the maze, decaying as they fell to the ground.

“Get out of here,” Legend said. “Go to the tower and lock yourself in your room.”

“I’m not locking myself in a tower!”

“Then run away. If you ever do anything for me, do this—I think the Fates are here.”

Then his lips were on hers. Severe. Quick. Hot. And gone far too soon.

Tella stumbled forward as he let her go. The maze around them was just a series of skeletal branches and rotting leaves. Tella could see right through them.

“Are the Fates doing this?”

“Tella, just go!” Legend roared.

The foul scent in the air grew stronger and sweeter, thick and charnel-sweet, like death, as two shadowy figures appeared on the other side of the hedge.

The blood in Tella’s veins froze.

The pale woman wore a jeweled eye patch, and the man had a great gash slicing along his throat as if his head had been severed and put back on his neck. The Murdered King and the Undead Queen.

Her knees buckled and her throat went dry.

Tella grabbed for Legend’s hand, to get him to flee with her. But a fresh hedge sprung up between them, cutting her off.

“No!” She banged her fists against the hedge’s spindly, prickly, and entirely leafless branches. It was weaker than his earlier illusions, but it was enough to form a barrier between them.

“Prince Dante,” the Murdered King said slowly. “I wonder if history will call you Dante the Dead or just forget you altogether after tonight.”

“Tragic,” cooed the Undead Queen. “Your face would have looked marvelous on a coin.”

Before Tella could catch another word, the prickly hedge before her moved. It pressed against her chest, forcing her to stumble back. Faster and faster it shoved against her, herding her farther away from Legend and the Fates.

That bastard! Legend was using his magic to push her away and she was powerless to stop him—or the Fates who’d come for him.

She wanted to turn around, to battle against the wall at her back, and return to Legend. But the magical wall was relentless and she hated to admit there was nothing she could do against the Fates except hope that he was stronger. She’d survived when the Undead Queen and Her Handmaidens had tried to kill her. Legend would survive as well.

He had to.

Ahead of her the palace glowed, moon-bright against the black sky. The only spot on earth that didn’t seem to be in pandemonium. The rest of the grounds were still dark; all the lights of the party were now vanquished. But Tella could hear people scrambling to leave the maze as its branches began to crack and crumble. There were still a few occasional giggles and laughs; some people must have thought this was all part of the game.

If it had been Caraval, Tella would have believed the same; she’d have imagined this was Legend’s plan. But she’d felt his fear when he’d kissed her and then forced her away.

Tella’s feet burned as her slippers crashed against the ground while the hedge continued to shove at her back. It scraped against the earth. She could sense the churning of dirt and hear the crush of its branches and—

The ground beneath Tella shook. She told herself to keep running. But she couldn’t hear the hedge anymore. When she slowed she didn’t feel it at her back. And when she turned she did not see it.

The hedge, the maze, the butterflies fluttering all over her skirt, everything that had been the party was gone. All that remained were thick spires of smoke, twisting upward.

No! No! No! Tella didn’t know if she shouted the words, if she gasped them, or if she just thought them. She knew there was only one reason Legend’s magic would suddenly stop.

He was dead.

“No!” This time she definitely shouted the word. Then her legs gave out and she fell to her knees.