My mouth moves to form the words, recalling the details from my memory cards.Tradeseems like a stretch.
“Because a Player was captured,” I answer weakly. “Silenus traded peace for the life of his Player. The captured Player was returned alive, and in exchange, Silenus signed an agreement to tour only South Theatron for five hundred years.”
My head reels. I mean to add that in a decade’s time, that treaty will be up. Thatthisis why they train us for encountering Players, because our world will plunge into chaos when they’re freed, if the wall can’t hold them.
I mean to say all of this, but the room has suspiciously begun to tilt.
Someone screams, but I can’t tell who it is as the classroom fades to groggy shades of gray and black. And in the distance, a pair of golden eyes, watching.
Act I: Scene XI
“No deal,” I hiss at Jude the moment Silenus excuses himself. I watch the door shut behind him longingly, that Script still somewhere in his pocket.
Jude stares down at me. “What are you talking about?”
I huff a breath, unsure what game he’s playing at. I can’t fathomwhy Jude would choose me as his contender, but he’s one of the Players. TheLeadPlayer. Silenus’s second-in-command and supposedly the keeper of the Playhouse’s magic.
His reasons are not good; I’m certain of that.
“Whateverthisis.” I gesture vaguely at the dressing room around me. “Players always want to make a bargain.Nodeal.”
His smile turns coy. “A bargain would implyyouget something out of this.” He strides across the room. “Come. You’ll be expected in the arena—then at the cast party.”
Fear cuts into my veins. I’m marked. Icannotenter this casting call, even if I wanted to. I’m not even convinced I could get back up if I sat down right now.
I panic. “Wait!”
Jude crosses his arms over his broad chest, taps his foot dramatically.
RIVEN: “I—” I wince, bracing myself and hating the words I force out of my mouth. “You have a voice like velvet. The copper of your hair is more beautiful than even the papers give you credit for.”
Jude blinks. “What?”
RIVEN: “You’re twice as handsome as the other Players.”
Jude’s mouth falls open.
I breathe, angry and humiliated. “That’s three compliments. Now let mego.”
JUDE: “The Three Compliments Rule is a myth.” A note of pity pinches his tone as my face hardens. “They still teach that? Just like the North to believe something so foolish. Sweet words cannot satiate Players. It’s kind of you, though, considering you can’t lie about them.Dosay more! I’m curious.”
My face burns with embarrassment, and I think back to the other things we were taught in school, unsure what else could’ve been a myth. “Open it,” I growl, pointing at the gold-encrusted mirror braced on the wall. “YouknowI’m not qualified for the competition. I know Players travel through mirrors. Open the mirror andlet me out.”
JUDE: “No.” He shrugs. “The casting call has closed, and I’m bound by contract to the Playhouse. I can’t summon a portal out.”
RIVEN: “Then justdoit!” The shriek leaves my voice exhausted.I’mexhausted. Clearly, this is some sick form of live entertainment to him. I try to scrape more vicious words from my throat, but the tone that escapes is small. “Why are you dragging this out?”
JUDE: “Do what?” To his credit, he feigns confusion well.
RIVEN: “Just tell them I’mmarked and get itoverwith.”
He hollers a laugh and shakes his head. “Oh,Alistaire. I didn’t trap you here to kill you.” His tone drops, quiet as the tick of the old clock as he steps closer, like a shared secret between us. “You’re here because I need you towin.”
Win.
My mouth forms several words before landing on:“What?”
A Great Dionysia only ends in one of two ways. One, the mortal manages to kill the competing Player during the final performance, seizing fame, immortality, and powerfor themselves.
