changed into when she died?” Poison asked. “I thought she was more the lover sort than the fighter.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t like either of you,” Scarlett spit out.
“She definitely never liked me. It’s a shame, too. Azane could have been glorious.” The Fallen Star’s fingers lit with flames. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.” Scarlett tightened her arm around Julian, her eyes searching for another exit, but there were only three impenetrable walls and burning bars before them. “Let us go.”
“I’m trying to help you, auhtara.” He took another step and before Scarlett could evade him, he pressed his burning hands onto her steel-plated shoulders.
Scarlett screamed and let go of Julian. Her dress’s armor grew thicker but it wasn’t enough to stop the pain, and she wasn’t strong enough to break free. When he’d burned her earlier it was nothing compared to this.
“Stop fighting me, I’m saving you, auhtara.” Golden eyes met hers. “If you leave with that boy under your arm you’ll share the same fate as Queen Azane, who turned into that gown, and Reverie, who became the key in your hand. They were Fates who fell in love with humans and let themselves become mortal and die. But magic cannot die. So, when their human bodies perished, their magic was transferred into objects. Is that what you want?”
“If it means I’ll never become like you, then yes,” Scarlett panted; the air was almost too hot to breathe. She kept trying to break free, but his grip was too tight. All she could do was reach back and press the Reverie Key into Julian’s palm. “Go—”
“You can’t ask me to leave you!” Julian gritted his teeth, took her hand, and pulled with more strength than a boy who’d just been tortured should have had. It still shouldn’t have been enough to free her—the Fallen Star gripped her tighter, searing her metal dress and branding her skin until she cried out again—but in that same painful moment, Scarlett’s gown shifted.
During one ragged breath, the magical dress left Scarlett in only a thin chemise as it changed into two metal gloves that latched on to the Fallen Star’s hands.
All around them, the flames on the bars turned to smoke.
Gavriel cursed.
Scarlett coughed, but she was free of his grip. Her dress had smothered his flames. She saw him battling against it, melting the armored gloves on his hands, destroying her dress, which had sacrificed itself so that Scarlett and Julian could escape.
“Stop them!” Gavriel yelled at Poison.
Poison stepped in front of the lock, holding out his lethal goblet, about to toss its contents and turn them to stone, or worse. “It seems we won’t be great friends after all.”
Scarlett and Julian ground to a screeching halt.
The raging Fallen Star was behind them, still batting the gloves. Poison was in front of them, ready to turn them to stone. They were trapped. Scarlett clutched Julian tighter—when suddenly all of the prison bars began to crumble and re-form around Poison. The thick metal poles herded him away from the door as they formed a new cage, trapping him.
Fetid air, full of smoke, turned magical and sweet.
“Legend’s here,” Julian wheezed. “He’s doing this.”
“Use the key now!” Legend roared.
Scarlett couldn’t see him, but she didn’t hesitate to obey. She darted forward with Julian toward the door.
But Poison was still too close. He was caged, but that didn’t stop him from throwing out the contents of his goblet.
Julian shoved Scarlett behind him, blocking her from the toxin and letting it cover his chest and arms.
“No!” Scarlett screamed, grabbed Julian, and thrust the Reverie Key in the lock, as she thought of her sister and safety.
She found only one of them.
53
Scarlett
Scarlett fell through the doorway in a screaming blur of agonizing color. Blistering orange, searing yellow, and violent garnet. Her shoulders were burning. She’d felt the pain before, but now it was all she could feel.
“Get her damp towels and cold water.” A pair of strong hands picked her up and carried her to a cloud-like bed.
“No,” Scarlett choked. “Take care of Julian first.”
“I’m fine, Crimson.” Then he was next to her, holding a cold cloth to her shoulder, easing a bit of the burn as her head fell against downy pillows and the world went in and out of focus.
She didn’t know how long she lost consciousness for, but when it returned, she was in a cloud of pink and gold, back in her bedroom at the Menagerie, surrounded by marble columns, disturbing frescoes, and