“You believe she disappeared?” He bit back a hard laugh, recalling all the headlines and write-ups after his last act. Daring Deed Ends in Tragic Last Act. Demarco Deals in Death on Stage. When Fatal Accident Meets Assistant. All alliterative nonsense, all hooks Lottie could not resist. “The woman who blew all the whistles about her death?”
“Death is a faster story to accept. No one listens to disappearances. I know that all too well.” Something new reared up in her voice, a bitterness so sharp it bled. “And I think you know, too, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
Everything she was saying was exactly what he’d wanted to hear—someone who believed him, believed in this—which was the trouble of it. It was a long, deep inhale after having no air for years. Eva had trusted Lottie far too quickly, and it had led to lies about her in the papers. An end to her story, when there was far more to it.
Suddenly, he imagined what would’ve happened had Lottie published the truth instead. The assistant of the Daring Demarco walks through a mirror, leading her Zarose knows where, only to never return. A story like that would result in either dead silence or utter chaos. The papers would hound him, Aunt Cata and the Patrons would descend. The world would watch.
Surprisingly, Lottie chose the story with less questions.
Death, the most believable ending.
Daron lifted his cup and sipped at the last, cold remnants. “So what did you find?”
Pleased, she leaned back comfortably in her chair. “I spoke with the mayor the other day. The man seems to be in the weirdest daze of resignation—not that I blame him. The mess Raz has unleashed is worse than any he’s ever left behind, that’s for sure.
“But there’s something curious he said that went beyond stress,” she continued, her finger dragging in small circles on the table. “He’s very adamant about not talking about the city’s history, always looking forward. Except when I asked him a simple question—how long he’s been mayor of this city—he couldn’t remember.”
Daron paused. “That’s it?”
“What do you mean, that’s it? Surely if you’re the leader of anything, and as prideful about it as he is, the least you could do is remember basic facts,” Lottie said pointedly. “I even asked who his predecessor was, and he gave no answer. He just up and left.”
“Because he’s hiding something?”
“No, I know the look of a person who’s hiding something.” She stole a quick glance at him before returning to straightening the silverware beside her. “Mayor Eilin looked like he had absolutely nothing to hide, nothing to say. Not even a lie to cover the nothing, that I would’ve at least expected.” Lottie bit her lip. “It was the same when I asked a few other locals. They all had the same look, the same nothingness.”
A chill ran through him. “What do you think happened here?”
“You tell me. Eva always thought this place held a strange sort of power,” she said. “It makes sense. People are disappearing, accidents keep happening, locals remember nothing, and you lot can’t leave for whatever reason. I can only wonder what else is wrong—or what else could go wrong.”
As the café quieted around them, a waiter approached to clear Daron’s empty cup. Lottie didn’t even look up as he whisked away, not even to ask for the coffee she’d wanted.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask the others,” she began, “but has your magic been feeling … different, lately?”
He stared down at his palm, the words racing up his throat like they couldn’t get out fast enough. He swallowed them down.
“I know you don’t perform anymore, but I heard you cast some protective magic over Kallia during the second night. Stopped the show altogether,” she continued. “I’m assuming you two patched things up since you’re looking to be in much better spirits.”
At the sudden hunger and intrigue in her voice, his guard shot up. It was a wonder how little it had taken for it to lower. “We’re not here to talk about her or me.”
“Sorry, bad habit.” Her smile lingered, her writing hand restless against the table. “I just thought maybe the strangeness of this place couldn’t be all bad. Maybe it could’ve offered some key to finding Eva.”
It was what he’d hoped, too, but whatever magic had seeped back into him changed nothing. It only made him more unpredictable, more dangerous. “Maybe the key is still here.”