A Darker Shade of Magic (Shades of Magic #1) - V.E Schwab Page 0,67

remembered Lila’s kerchief. The one she’d given him in exchange, tucked into his back pocket.

Seems right somehow, she’d said. You gave me something of yours. I give you something of mine. Now we’re linked.

Linked, thought Kell. His mind spun as he dragged the square of fabric free. Would it work? Not if she’d somehow been torn apart or trapped between the worlds (there were stories, of non-Antari who tried to open doors and got stuck). But if she’d never come through, or if she was here somewhere—alive or dead—it might.

He brought the bloodstained kerchief to the wall and pressed his hand flat against the echo of his recent mark.

“As Enose,” he commanded the magic. “As Enose Delilah Bard.”

* * *

Lila opened her eyes and saw red.

Not a bold red, splashed like paint over the buildings, but a subtle, pervasive tint, like she was looking through a pane of colored glass. Lila tried to blink away the color, but it lingered. When Kell called his city Red London, she assumed he’d picked the color for some arbitrary—or at least ordinary—reason. Now she could see that he meant it literally. She drew a breath and tasted flowers on the air. Lilies and marigolds and stargazers. The scent was overpowering, verging on sickly sweet, like perfume—no wonder it clung to Kell. After a few moments, it calmed a little (so did the tint), as her senses adjusted to her new surroundings, but when she drew too deep a breath, it assaulted her again.

Lila coughed and lay still. She was on her back in an alley, in front of a rather pretty red door (painted, not tinted). A loose street stone dug into her spine through the coat. Kell’s coat. It was spread beneath her on the ground, billowing out like wings.

But Kell was not there.

She tightened her fingers to make sure she could move them, and felt the black stone nested in her palm, still humming. It worked, she thought, letting out an amazed exhale as she sat up. It had actually worked.

Not perfectly—if it had worked perfectly, she and Kell would be standing in the same place—but she was here, which was to say there. Somewhere new.

She’d done it.

Delilah Bard had finally escaped, sailed away. Not with a ship, but with a stone.

As for where she was exactly, she hadn’t the faintest idea. She got to her feet and realized that the red tint wasn’t coming from the sky, but from the ground. The world to her right was considerably redder than the world to her left. And, she realized, senses tuning, considerably louder. Not just the usual noise of peddlers and carts, for the Londons seemed to have that in common, but the din of a growing crowd, all cheers and shouts and celebration. Part of her knew she should stay still and wait for Kell to find her, but the other part was already moving toward the swell of light and color and sound.

Kell had found her once, she reasoned. He could do it again.

She tucked the black stone into the hidden pocket of her worn cloak (the dizziness upon letting go was brief and shallow) then scooped up Kell’s coat, dusted it off, and pulled it on over the top. She expected it to be bulky, if not outright unruly, but to her surprise, the coat fit perfectly, its silver buttons lying smooth and even on the rich black fabric.

Strange, thought Lila, shoving her hands into its pockets. Not the strangest thing by far, but still strange.

She wove through the streets, which were like her London in their narrow, twisting fashion and yet so different. Instead of rough stone and soot-stained glass, the shops were built of dark wood and smooth rock, colored glass, and shining metal. They looked strong and strangely delicate at once, and running through them all, through everything, was an energy (she could think of no other word). She walked in the direction of the crowd, marveling at the change wrought in the world, a world whose bones were shared with hers, but whose body was a new, glorious thing.

And then she turned a corner and saw the source of the commotion. Scores of people had gathered along a major road, bustling in anticipation. They had the air of commoners, and yet their dress was so much finer than Lila had ever seen on the commoners at home. Their style itself was not so foreign—the men wore elegant coats with high collars, the woman waist-cinched