“Despite my actions during Caraval, I don’t enjoy deceiving my sister.”
“But it’s hard to stop once you start.”
“Is that how it is with you? You spend so much time lying you can’t tell the truth?” The words came out sharper than Tella intended, but to his credit Julian didn’t bite back.
“Caraval might all feel like a lie to you, but it’s my life—my truth. This last game was as real for me as it was for your sister. While she was fighting for you, I was fighting for her.” His voice roughened. “I might have lied to your sister about who I was, but my feelings for her were genuine. I need more time with her before she learns anything else that might make her doubt me.”
“What happens if Scarlett sees Armando is still on the island?”
“Legend is sending him to Valenda early, along with a few other performers.”
How very convenient.
“Since I’m doing this for you, I want a favor,” Tella added with a bit of inspiration.
Julian rocked his head back and forth, appearing to consider it. “What sort of favor?”
“I want to know Legend’s real name. Who is Legend, really?”
Julian laughed before she even finished. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with him too.”
“I know better than to fall in love with Legend.”
“Good. And no,” Julian said, no longer laughing. “That’s not even close to a fair trade, and, even if it were, I can’t tell you Legend’s name.”
Tella folded her arms across her chest. She hadn’t really expected him to answer. The few performers she’d been able to question had given her similar responses. There’d been lots of chuckles and smirks, and some had just ignored her altogether. She imagined it was because most of them had no clue as to who Legend really was, but Julian’s response was different enough to make her hope she’d finally found someone better informed.
“If you can’t tell me Legend’s name,” Tella said, “point me in the direction of someone who can, or we don’t have a deal.”
All remaining traces of Julian’s humor vanished. “Legend’s identity is his most guarded secret. No one on this isle will reveal it to you.”
“Then I suppose I’ll just have to expose the truth about Armando to Scarlett.” Tella turned to leave the alley.
“Wait—” Julian grabbed her wrist.
Tella resisted the urge to smile. He was desperate.
“If you promise not to tell Scarlett about Armando, I’ll share the name of a performer who might answer some questions.”
“Might?”
“He’s been with Caraval since the beginning, and he knows things. But he doesn’t give away information for free.”
“I wouldn’t believe him if he did. Tell me his name and we have a deal.”
“It’s Nigel,” Julian answered quietly. “He’s Legend’s fortune-teller.”
Tella had never met Nigel, but she knew who he was. The young man was unmistakable. Every inch of Nigel, including his face, was covered in bright, lifelike tattoos that he used to predict the future. Of course, Nigel’s role sounded different on Julian’s lips, as if he wasn’t truly there for those playing Caraval, but to pass on information to the master of Caraval.
“Be careful,” Julian added, as if Tella needed another warning. “Fortune-tellers aren’t like you and me. They see the world as it could be, and sometimes they try to bring about what they want, rather than what should be.”
5
The air was full of salt and secrets. Tella took a deep breath, hoping the evening was also threaded with the magic that haunted Legend’s ship, La Esmeralda.
Everything about it breathed enchantment. Even its swollen sails appeared charmed. They blazed red in the day and silver at night, like a magician’s cloak, hinting at mysteries concealed beneath, which Tella planned to uncover that night.
Drunken laughter floated above her as Tella delved deeper into the ship’s underbelly in search of Nigel the Fortune-teller. Her first evening on the vessel she’d made the mistake of sleeping, not realizing until the following day that Legend’s performers had switched their waking hours to prepare for the next Caraval. They slumbered in the day and woke after sunset.