“The third thing,” I demand, my voice hoarse. Jude shuts his eyes, resigned, and I press on. “The third thing you would have me know before the end of this. Tell me what it is.”
Jude’s eyes flutter open, bright with determination. “That I have loved you.” He raises his head, voice steady, certain. “Unreasonably. Entirely. Unfairly and, gods know, selfishly. In every life that I have lived.”
My fingers hesitate on the bowstring. Just once, I nod. “Then forgive me for what I have to do in this one.”
In a breath, I twist, leveling my arrow at the moon glowing overhead, and release it.
Act III: Scene XXXII
For a moment, the world is silent.
Then the sound of an Eleutheraen gold arrowhead ripping into the very heart of the Playhouse crashes through the stillness. My arrow found its mark, piercing the marble dome directly overhead and what lies above it: the stage.
The Playhouse quakes violently as what seems like millions of cracks crisscross the dome, reaching farther and farther.
In a breath, our illusions dissipate like dust in the wind. Eleutherae slips away, replaced by the horrified cries of an audience watching, bewilderment filling the arena as the lights flicker.
Drawing a second arrow, I aim at Jude, who watches me, open-mouthed, as chaos erupts. Before he can make a move, I level it at his chest and breathe one word.
“Run.”
His jaw shuts to clenched teeth. Defeated, he turns and runs from the arena like a bolt of lightning, disappearing beneath the arch.
The audience rises to their feet in confusion, panic closing over the arena as I catch sight of Sil shouting orders at the rest of my cast to file out.
Shutting out the voices, the shuffling feet, I home in on my inner world, my bridge.
“Methexis.”Power reaches up from the ground, warmth beckoning. I draw from it, from the depths of my motivation, until Craft pulses through my bones so strongly, I think they might melt.
I lure that power to the surface of my tongue and look at the audience.
“Leave,” I command, Compulsion dripping from the words. “The mirror closest to you. Now.”
There’s no hesitation. All at once, the audience floods toward the exits, unable to resist the command. Rapidly, the arena begins to empty.
In the center of the chaos, I embrace every bitter reality I’ve fought for as long as I can remember: of what’s unfair, of what’s imperfect, of what’s temporary. Of what I can’t have, of what I can’t control. My body is breaking under the weight of my own anger, and I can’t hold on to it any longer.
I inhale—three deep breaths. And finally,finallyrelease it.
I forgive every moment of it.
Something shatters deep in my head, and I feel the Player in me shriek, her grip on me slipping as the bond between us fractures.
When I look up, I find Sil, his eyes ablaze and burning holes into the place where I stand. But as the marble splits open at my feet, fissures racing up the walls like a cracked teacup, he turns with furious resignation and runs for the exit.
And so do I.
Act III: Scene XXXIII
My legs grow heavier with each step, the Player beneath my skin alive, awake,furious,grasping for control but no longer able to puppet me so easily.
When I emerge into the hall outside the arena, Compelled spectators seem to be making frantic exits through every mirror portal in sight.
And if every mirror is open, that means at leastonething so far has gone according to plan.
Sil will have fled to the Greenroom, where he expects to find the other Players.
But I flee to the lobby instead, where the Players will have actually gone.
