When Tella wrote back to ask for this man’s name, the man himself simply replied:
It’s best if you don’t know.
—A friend
Tella always took this response to mean her friend was a criminal, but he’d been a faithful and clever correspondent. The information he’d provided about Legend was not what she’d expected, but using it, Tella had written to Legend again and pleaded for his help.
She succeeded this time. Legend replied to Tella, and as soon as he agreed to help her and her sister escape their father, the Aracle changed from Scarlett in a wrecked wedding gown to Scarlett at a lavish ball, in a gown made of rubies that drew the eye of every suitor she walked by. This was the future Tella wanted for her sister, full of glamour, celebrations, and choices.
Unfortunately, a day later the vision was replaced by another glimpse of the future that had not changed since.
Tella didn’t know if the enchanted card would show the same awful picture today; after everything that had happened during Caraval, she hoped that perhaps it had changed.
But the image hadn’t shifted.
All the air and hope fled Tella’s lungs.
The card still showed her mother. She looked like a battered version of the Lady Prisoner, depicted in Decks of Destiny, covered in blood, and caged behind the harsh iron bars of a dim prison cell.
This was the future that had prompted Tella to make another request of her friend and ask him if he could also help find her mother. Tella’s previous searches for Paloma had led nowhere, but her friend, who was not bound to a backwater island like Tella, clearly had better ideas and methods of how to search.
She had memorized his reply by heart.
* * *
Dearest Donatella,
I’m looking into the request regarding your mother and I already have a strong lead. I believe the reason you couldn’t find her before is because Paloma was not her real name. However, I will not be able to reunite you with her until you pay me back for the information I sent you about Caraval Master Legend.
In case you forgot, I need Legend’s true name. The others I’ve tasked to do this have all failed. But since you’ll be spending time on his private isle, I’m sure you will succeed. Once you have the name, we can discuss my payment for finding your mother.
Yours,
A friend
* * *
This news about Paloma’s name was the only information Tella had learned about her mother since she’d left seven years ago. It gave Tella genuine hope. She had no idea why her friend wanted Legend’s name, whether it was for personal use, or if it was information another client had tried to purchase. But Tella didn’t care; she would do whatever it took to uncover Legend’s name. If Tella could do this, she believed she would finally see her mother again. Her friend had not let her down before.
“Good lord!”
Tella looked up to see her sister’s large eyes go wide as she reentered the room. “Where did you get all those coins?” Scarlett pointed at Tella’s open trunk.
But at the word coins, Tella’s thoughts were suddenly elsewhere. Her friend had wrapped a strange coin inside the last letter he’d sent. That’s what she was missing! It must have slipped out of her pocket when she’d been tumbling around the forest floor with Dante.
Tella needed to get back to the forest and find it. She concealed the Aracle inside her pocket as she shot toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Scarlett called. “Don’t tell me you stole all that money!”
“Don’t worry,” Tella replied. “I took it all from our father, and he thinks I’m dead.”
Before Scarlett could respond, Tella raced from the room.
She moved so fast she was already outside of the turreted house, on a street lined with hatbox-shaped shops, when she realized she was still barefoot. A mistake she felt quickly.
“God’s teeth!” Tella yelped. She was only halfway to the forest and it was the third time she’d stubbed her toe. This time she swore a rock jumped up from the cobbled street and attacked her exposed feet on purpose. “I swear, if another one of you bites my toes I will drown you in the ocean where the mermaids can use you to wipe their—”
Tella heard a low, deep, and unnervingly familiar chuckle.