TITUS: “Why bother learning their names? Odds are whoever makes it through will be blood on the stage before this is over.”
I draw inward at the words, frightened on behalf of the fools who are actuallyauditioningfor this. It’s taking all of the self-control I have not to make a panicked dash for the hall.
ARIUS: “You’re terrible. May Hades give you no rest.”
TITUS: “If he’s half so handsome as they say, mayIgiveHadesno rest.”
ARIUS: “Fine. Then a long life in hell, I pray you.”
MATTIA: “Don’t bother. The gods do not listen to the eternally damned prayers ofactors.”
I hold in a scoff. I’m pretty sure the gods have stopped answering prayers altogether.
SILENUS: “Ladies and gentlemen!” The director’s voice booms behind the curtain, resonant and overpowering the surplus of chatter. The crowd quiets into a restless standstill. “Welcome to the Playhouse. I hope you’ve all had a chance to get acquainted?”
There he is.My eyes lock on the curtain, imagining the director—and that Script—on the other side of it.
Nervous laughter burbles from the crowd in response. While I can’t see them, I imagine a sea of nervous expressions, each desperate to impress a Player or to catch the eye of their elusive director.
“So many lovely faces in our casting call tonight!” Silenus’s speech continues, slightly muffled behind the curtain. “But I warn you, I do not choose my Players on beauty alone. It is rarely the most beautiful, the most talented, the loudest—though of course our casting calls bring all of these and more!”
Dizziness fizzles in my head. I squirm impatiently, willing the director to call his Players out,awayfrom here. Then, when he retreats through this corridor alone, I’ll grab my knife and—
“But rather, it is whoever draws the eye,” Silenus explains. “Take it not personally, my friends—actors are born! Not made.”
I wrinkle my nose at that. It feels impossible to believe these creatures were everborn, mere mortals who won the casting call by killing the Players who came before them.
They don’t look like they were ever human.
PARRISH: “There you are!”
I perk up at the new voice—a girl’s. It sounds young, accompanied by the soft chime of bells.
Down the hall, she emerges. Player Parrish is smaller than the other three, with hair like raven feathers, deliberately messy and shorn in sharp, chocolate-brown layers around her neck. There’s a youthful bounce to her step that sends all of her many anklets and bracelets jingling.
Parrish’s statue in the District unsettles me the most, always laden with an array of odd objects, ranging from marriage bands to loved ones’ ashes, thanks to rumors that she hoards rare items. A mouse, I dub her. A greedy one.
PARRISH: “Say, where is Jude?”
The wolf, Titus, shrugs at her question. “Combing that pretty hair of his, probably.”
SILENUS: “Five of you will remain with us after tonight to compete for a role in my cast, and so wemustbe selective. But enough of this! Allow me to introduce you to our honored stars of this evening.”
The audience hollers a response, and relief washes over me. Once the last Player is out, I’ll wait by the curtain. My hand dips into my coat, curls around my Eleutheraen blade.
I can do this. Surely I can take an old man in a fight.
SILENUS: “Please welcome our Comedians: Players Arius and Parrish!”
My ears ring as thunderous applause echoes, the dove and the mouse stepping through the curtain. I count two remaining Players awaiting their entrance.
Their Lead Playerismissing. There should be five altogether—
Never mind it. Maybe their Lead Player is on the platform already. Once these two are gone, I’ll wait by the curtain. Silenus has to come back this way atsomepoint—
SILENUS: “A warm welcome for our Tragedians: Players Titus and Mattia!”
The last two, the wolf and snake, step through the curtain, met by another round of earth-shattering applause that shakes the walls.
