Laila would meet death standing.
Earlier, she had made herself dress for evening, but she had skipped dinner entirely. Only now did she realize that not once had her Forged necklace of white diamonds tightened with a summons. Séverin was lost to himself. Perhaps he thought findingThe Divine Lyricswould be the truest vengeance for Tristan, and now his guilt only thickened in his blood and forced him away from the world. Or perhaps… perhaps he thought nothing of her absence. He would never know that death raced toward her.
Each time she’d thought to tell him, fury stilled her tongue. She couldn’t live with his pity, and she would die at his apathy. All that remained was his silence. Laila wondered if that was the truest death—being slowly rendered invisible so that all she inspired was indifference.
Laila glanced at the invitation on her vanity. The theme of the Winter Conclave was dusk and dawn… to herald the transition of a new year.
For tonight, she selected a gown steeped in midnight. The Forged silk clung to every contour. Its only nod to opulence was the ends of the gown, the tendrils of which appeared like ribbons of ink suspended in water. If she leaned forward, the top of the long scar down her spine peeked out. It used to make her feel like a doll hastily put together; now, she merely felt like she wasn’t hiding her truth. Laila fastened the cold diamonds to her throat.
Now what?
“Now,” said Laila, more to herself than to anyone else. “Now, I dance.”
At the top of the staircase, the loud sounds of revelry reached her, thrumming with urgency and desperation. Candles lined the stair banister, Forged to appear like gleaming suns. Lustrous moons crowded the ceiling, and silver confetti spiraled slowly through the air so that it was like watching a constellation explode in slow motion. The members of the Order of Babel had dressed as gods and goddesses, demons and seraphs… all of whom embodied dusk or dawn.
Laila scanned the crowd, looking for the others. From the Midnight Auction’s podium, Hypnos led the crowd in chanting the lyrics to a bawdy song while the auctioneer looked increasingly distressed and kept gesturing to the time. When Hypnos saw her, he winked. Not an uncommon gesture coming from him, but it made her pause. It felt intentional, like he was deliberately distracting the crowd. But to what purpose?
“Mademoiselle L’Énigme,” said a familiar voice at her side.
Laila turned to see Eva, dressed in a ball gown of brightest green. Her red hair was arranged in a cascading coiffure, with a gold headpiece unfurling behind her ears like slender wings. Eva crossed her arms, and Laila caught the glint of her silver ring sheathing her pinky like a claw. Eva caught her looking and smiled. It was a cat’s smile with all her small, sharp teeth. Eva opened her mouth, but Laila spoke before her.
“You look beautiful, Eva.”
Eva paused, almost flinching at the compliment. Abruptly, her hand went to the ballerina pendant at her neck before she dropped it.
“We could still be friends,” said Laila.
Death’s shadow robbed her of subtlety, and she watched as Eva’s eyes widened almost guiltily before she snapped back to herself.
“You have too many things I want, Mademoiselle,” she said coldly, and then tilted her head. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be you.”
Laila smiled. “A short-lived wonder, I imagine.”
Eva frowned.
“Who are you supposed to be?” she asked. “A goddess of night?”
Laila hadn’t really considered herself dressed as a goddess, but now she thought of the stories her mother had told her, tales of star-touched queens who trailed nighttime in their shadows.
“Why not,” she said. “And you?”
Eva gestured at the green of her gown, and only then did Laila notice the delicate pattern of insect wings.
“Tithonus,” said Eva. “The ill-fated lover of Eos, goddess of the dawn.”
When she saw the confusion on Laila’s face, she said, “Tithonus was so beloved of the goddess of dawn that she begged Zeus for his immortality, so that he might stay with her forever… but she forgot to ask for eternal youth. He grew old and hideous, and pleaded for death that no god could grant until Eos took pity on him and turned him into a cricket.”
The story raised goose bumps on Laila’s skin.
“You’re dressed as a warning, then?”
“Why not,” said Eva, lifting one shoulder. “A warning to be careful of what we demand from the gods.”
From the podium, Hypnos struck a gong and pointed at the musicians. “A dance before we divide our treasures!”
The crowd clapped. The auctioneer threw up his hands in surrender just as the musicians struck up a lively tune. When Laila turned back to Eva, she realized the other girl had moved closer, until she was hardly a handspan away from her.
“That necklace is beautiful,” said Eva, tilting her head. “But it’s gotten turned, and the clasp is at the front. Allow me to adjust it.”
