Jian handed me a cloudy drink and followed my gaze. “Don’t worry about her, there’s nothing going on with her and Mephistopheles. Not for a while now.”
I accepted the drink and sniffed. It didn’t smell very strong, but I didn’t want to chance impairing my own deductive abilities. “Was she upset when she—”
“—found out he was actually interested in you?” He laughed. “I’ve never seen someone so small throw such a fit. She trashed her costume, and nearly tossed a shoe through Andreas’s magic mirror.” His attention turned to my untouched drink. I handed it over and he gulped it down in one greedy drab. “Now that would’ve been something to see.”
“Would Andreas get violent?”
Behind his mask, I could have sworn his eyes dilated. “I mean it would have broken his heart.” He fixed another drink and swayed in place. “Anyway, Cassie’s not mad at you. If she’s angry at anyone it’s Mephistopheles. He’d better watch himself—she’s the type to teach lessons. You should have seen that last guy.” He shook his head. “He’d have been better off with the lions.”
I tried not to watch her too closely. She was now backing the same young man against the wall, kissing down his neck. It was much too intimate a moment to intrude upon, even though she had no qualms of making a show of it.
“That’s Sebastián.”
“The contortionist?”
“That and he’s her husband.” Jian chuckled at my stunned expression.
Someone chose that moment to shoot a light out. I threw myself to the ground, hands over my head as glass rained down and the room got that much darker. Performers whooped at the dimmer lighting. My pulse thrashed about as I slowly stood. This was madness. Completely unfazed by the growing debauchery, Jian tossed his next drink back, then staggered over to the fountain. I feared if he drank anything else, I’d not get any useful information from him. Shoving my own nervousness aside, I hurried after him.
“Cassie and Sebastián are married?” I asked. “He must have been furious about Mephistopheles.”
A motive to destroy the carnival if ever there was one. Might they be a murderous duo? I stared as they clawed at each other’s clothing. Jealousy was a powerful motive for anyone. And each of them might be suffering from it. Sebastián because his wife had so openly pursued another man, and Cassie for so openly being cast aside. I wanted to rush to Thomas and tell him every last theory sprouting up in my mind, but the cursed bargain prevented me from doing that.
“They both do as they please and it works for them.” Jian looked at me through half-lidded eyes. “Hey… you haven’t finished your drink.” I didn’t bother pointing out that he’d done that for me twice. “Lesss make a toasss.”
“Maybe we ought to hold off until next time,” I suggested. His slurring was much worse. He waved me off and went about making two more drinks, concentrating as if the fate of the world depended on this potion. I would have been more amused if I wasn’t worried the persons responsible for three deaths were passionately embracing in the corner.
Jian poured a knuckle of green liquid into each glass, then managed to place slotted spoons over them without knocking the glasses over. A miracle, considering the state he was in. Next he placed sugar cubes on the spoons, set them ablaze, and maneuvered everything over to the water fountain after the flame extinguished.
Lining the spigots up with the sugar, he twisted them on. Ice water dripped slowly, disintegrating the sugar as it fell into the awaiting liquor. The pale green color shifted to an opaque smoke, reminding me of a forbidden brew. It finally clicked what it was. Absinthe.
Intrigued, I accepted the glass, holding it up to the dim light. It was all the rage in both upper-class houses and bawdy clubs; some claimed it offered hallucinations, but that was only true if extra wormwood had been added to it. I bit my lip. I wanted to try it very badly, but I also needed to act responsibly and gather clues.
Someone stepped up beside me, but a lot of people jostled about. I didn’t pay them any mind. “Are you going to pretend to drink that?” I snapped my attention around. Cassie raised her brows. “Or do you need some help?”
“I haven’t pretended to drink anything.”
“Maybe not.” She studied me. “But there are other things you’re pretending, aren’t there?” Her attention left me briefly and I didn’t have to follow her gaze to know she was speaking of the ringmaster. “You might be acting at infatuation, but he’s not.”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t detect any malice in her words—if anything, there was almost a sense of camaraderie, like we were sisters in battle, fighting against wicked men. I lifted the glass to my lips. “I appreciate your advice,” I said, “but I really am enjoying my time here.”
I went to toss back the drink as I’d seen Jian do several times when a hand shot out and covered the rim. My lips pressed against the crescent moon–stitched glove and I drew back as if I’d been burned. Mephistopheles shook his head. “This might be a little too magical for you, Miss Wadsworth. I’d like to return you to your chambers in one piece. Heaven forbid Thomas Cresswell comes challenging me to a duel.”
He held my stare and I could have sworn there was true concern in his face. I politely removed his hand from my glass, aware of our audience. I had no doubt he was, too. Which was precisely why he shouldn’t have mentioned Thomas. “Have a drink with me.”
“It’s late.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Suit yourself.”
Before he could utter another word, I gulped my drink down. It was most unladylike and barbarous. I loved it. It tasted of licorice and burned pleasantly on the way down, different from wine in the sense of the warmth that spread from my stomach to my limbs. My body felt as if it was as light as air. Muffled sounds grew louder. Colors richer. Someone laughed close by and I giggled along with them for no good reason at all.
“Come, let’s get you to bed.” Mephistopheles gently took my arm, his brow creased. He really was quite good at all this pretend stuff. He almost had me convinced he cared.
I wriggled out of his grasp, grabbing a handful of my petticoats as I darted away. The coarse material felt amazing beneath my touch and I suddenly wanted to prance around the room, kicking my legs up. No wonder everyone appeared so happy—this elixir was pure magic. A woman wearing a full mask stuck her hand out, waving me over. Several women had their arms linked, throwing kicks in unison. Suddenly, it was the most logical thing to do.
Without hesitation, I hooked my arm around hers and joined in the fun. My heart thundered in my chest, alive and boisterous. I’d never felt so untethered before, so free from judgment and restraint. My entire family would balk at my behavior; for all I knew Thomas would even be puzzled. But I didn’t care. Not about any of that darkness. Murder. Crime. Sadness. Loss. I pretended each emotion was a balloon that needed to be released into the universe, and I let it all go.
I kicked my legs higher each time I switched feet, ignoring the fact I was exposing more skin than I’d ever shown in public before. I closed my eyes, becoming one with the rhythm around me. This was how it felt to truly be free.