Where Dreams Descend - Janella Angeles Page 0,153

the center like petals unfurling, surrounding a spacious expanse right beneath the largest chandelier of the ballroom. The guests clapped in awe at the beautiful display it formed, the way the lights hit the reflection with an otherworldly glow. A stage like a bright cage for all to peer into.

Made entirely of mirrors.

Kallia blanched. The surfaces gleamed dangerously like well-sharpened knives raised over a chopping board. Before she could grab Demarco’s hand—to pull him aside or make a run for it altogether, she didn’t know—the mayor gestured invitingly to her.

“And since our lovely Kallia is dying for her time onstage,” he said, a little too gleeful, “it’s only fair to give her the privilege of going first!”

* * *

Daron wanted to break something.

This couldn’t possibly go on. And yet he moved closer to the newly raised stage with Kallia, who seemed just as dazed when, only moments ago, she was determined to tear this show to the ground.

“I-I need a quick word, with Aaros about the music. I’ll be right…” Kallia didn’t even finish, rushing to meet her assistant at the edge of the mirrors. Even in the frenzy, her expression was shrewd, focus pushing through. Never one to let a twist knife at her, unlike him.

As soon as those mirrors were raised, it took everything to tamp down the urge to run.

“You really think this is a good idea, Daron?” Lottie sidled beside him. The last person he needed to see, when he needed to remain calm.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you know.”

Eva.

“It’s a very different act,” he bit out. “This isn’t the same.”

It wouldn’t be. They wouldn’t even be going near the mirrors. The proximity to them would set him on edge, so he would focus on Kallia. Just Kallia.

And she would win. There was never any doubt in his mind about that.

“That’s not what I meant.”

A new, quiet panic entered him as Lottie pulled at him, her expression blazing as he’d never before: desperate, haunted. “Don’t perform, Daron. Nothing good will come of tonight.”

His breath hitched at the cold certainty in her voice. With how little he had to do in the act, he honestly couldn’t see how. Until all at once, he remembered those moments when power had burst through him without warning, out of pure reaction. Instinct.

There was no way she could’ve known that. “What are you talking about?”

Lottie was never speechless. It was the first thing he’d noticed about her when Eva had first invited her to join them for a post-show dinner, like bringing a wily stray cat home who had refused to be ignored. Daron never thought it a wise friendship, but Eva never cared. She preferred the company of those who were clever with their words, magician or not, and Lottie had an endless supply. Arguing, persuading, criticizing—each play of words, her specialty.

But now she didn’t know what to say. And as much as he wanted to wait for it, Aaros frantically waved him over to the stage area.

“I need to go.” Daron shook out of Lottie’s grip, his heart thundering.

“Dare.” A low growl of warning. “If you do this, I’ll—”

“Write a thousand stories about me for all I care, Lottie,” he said, backing away. “I’m not leaving her alone in this. I’m not going to do that to her.”

She did not try to stop him this time, instead grabbing the nearest flute of alcohol and drowning it in one swallow. A bolstering vote of confidence. Whatever it was, he couldn’t let her panic bleed into his.

He concentrated entirely on Kallia as she conversed with the musicians arranging themselves around the stage of mirrors. Aaros lingered behind, beckoning Daron to the side.

“How does she seem?”

Aaros looked troubled. “Fine.”

That wasn’t a good sign.

“Take care, judge,” he continued, digging into his coat pocket before passing off an item. “If anything has shaken her even a little, something bad must be in the air tonight.”

Daron didn’t want to think that way. Ominous thoughts only led to ominous things. The assistant departed, leaving him with Kallia. Once the musicians took their places, her arms crossed, fingers running over a small scrap of cloth, a hint of bloody petals along its edge.

“Everything is going to be all right,” he promised, reaching for her. “Those fools wouldn’t dare mess with the act in front of all these people. It will go just as we rehearsed.”

Kallia nodded slowly, tucking the cloth back into a hidden fold of her dress. Her fingers tensed at the absence. “And if it

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