challenge called to her. To the part of her that wanted to win, made her hungrier for it the more unpredictable the path.
The fools thought they could treat her like a flower—take away her sunlight and water so she would shrivel up and die. But she was more the stubborn plant, the kind that thrived anywhere if that’s what it took to live. Their first mistake was in thinking obstacles gave them an upper hand. Little did they know, she would always find a way to grow through cracks in the stone.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as she led them both to the gathering of contestants. She kept her chin raised while his jaw worked the whole way over. “This is unfair. We have no proper stage, no time to fully prepare for—”
“The world is our stage, Demarco. And we’ve practiced far more than any of them, and they know it.” She chuckled at the expression on his face. “Don’t panic. You know our act. All the tricks are on me, you’re simply there to look pretty.” She winked, squeezing his hand firmly. “Now, we win.”
The word felt good on her lips. She could taste the victory, so close. None of the other contestants reverberated with quite as much energy when they finally reached the group.
“Quite a night this has turned into,” one of the few remaining contestants said with a nasty leer. “Are you nervous?”
Kallia beamed. “For you.”
His face went ashen, but the bravado remained thick in the air in the small circle of magicians. The guests of the party looked on from a short distance, whispering restlessly amongst themselves as they waited for the performance to begin.
Erasmus entered the ring, his face alight with trickery.
“Apologies for the sudden turn of events,” he said. “Have to keep everyone on their toes as much as the participants, no matter what.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure all the participants were treated equally and knew nothing until this very moment.” Lottie appeared beside him, her viper stare aimed at every top hat in the circle. “Isn’t that right, Mister Mayor?”
“Miss de la Rosa, who said you could drop in on a private meeting?” Mayor Eilin sniffed. “And I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Sure you do. I heard it all in our last interview regarding the treatment of the contestants. You said, and I quote, ‘Boys will be boys, and we stick together.’” She grimaced. “Guess that applies to cheating as well.”
His face reddened even more, eyes turning murderous. Though not as murderous as Erasmus as he regarded the mayor. “You told everyone?”
“Not everyone,” Demarco chimed in pointedly.
“Surprise, surprise.” The proprietor threw up his hands. “Those who rig the game are the weakest players of them all, you know.”
“This is not solely your game, Rayne. You may have bound us all here in that contract of yours, but you don’t make all the rules. What does it matter, whether things were fair or not? That’s life,” the mayor declared, snapping a triumphant finger. “No, that’s show business. And if any contestant is too rattled to perform, well, I’m afraid they’re not cut out for it.”
“You should be afraid,” Kallia interjected, hands on her hips. “Because I’m ready.”
You’re not ready.
Jack’s words from long ago kicked back in her mind, the ones she hadn’t wanted to hear. The ones she hated.
She inhaled deeply.
You’re wrong.
She was ready, and she always had been.
The mayor stammered in irritation before spinning back to the crowd. The faces of contestants and judges throughout the circle turned frustrated, while others grinned. Demarco, surprisingly, not one of them. Kallia didn’t know what to make of that, but the flutter of unease dissolved as the guests quieted, save for the servants clearing away stragglers from the center of the floor.
“Rather than move everyone into the main theater,” the mayor resumed his announcement, all tight smiles for the party, “we thought the ballroom would make a worthy arena for our final performance. The Court of Mirrors, after all, used to be quite a showroom itself, back in the day. With a stage already beneath our feet.” He raised a gloved hand, crooking two fingers upward. “Gentlemen?”
Kallia jerked at the harsh, rusty groans, one after the other. Across the floor, where she and Demarco had danced, the surface shifted. Servants in elegant black suits pulled floor panels up from the ground, raising them to their full height and forming a wide ring within the dance floor. The six raised panels encircled