I return a look of reasonable confusion and utter horror until he elaborates. “She’s here to keep things in order. But she’s godsdamned violent about it.”
Any wild ideas I had about getting that Script away from Sil slip further out of reach. Jude may be an actor, but I don’t get the sense he’s lying about this.
I inhale sharply as the darkness shirks away from the light. Satisfied, Jude sets down the candle and straightens as if nothing odd has happened.
JUDE: “Do you mean it, Alistaire? I’ll help you, and you’ll keep our deal? You’ll see the casting call through to the end?”
Yes.I feel the word on my tongue.Yes, I will. And then I’ll go to school; I’ll get a job. I’ll have a home and friends, and I’ll find a place in this world just for me.
“Okay,” I whisper. “If you—if youcanfix me, I’ll…” I swallow, taking in the cage around me. “I’ll see it through.”
A chill rolls down my spine at the slow grin working its way across Jude’s features.
“Lovely,” he says in a smooth tone, one that gives me the impression Jude is used to getting what he wants. Then, strangely, he goes for the fireplace.
Confused, I watch as he plucks an iron from the mantel and pushes the hot coals around. “This may hurt, by the way.”
“This may—” I lower my brow, tasting unspoken context in the air. “What?”
He straightens from where he’s crouched by the fire, iron in hand. “You’ll never make it through the competition marked.”
He wants to destroy my mark. My vow to truth and protection against the Playhouse. The markthat keeps mefrom becoming like the Revelers who spend their days worshipping the Players. The mark that keepsmefrom bowing toJude.
The thought sickens me, and I press my back to the wall, pointing at the door. “Get out.”
JUDE: “Now, Alistaire, let’s not be rash—”
RIVEN: “Now. Go.” My next words turn into a shout. “And don’teversuggest that again—”
JUDE: “There’s stage combat tomorrow. You cannot use our Craft or suspend your reality with that mark. You’lldie.”
RIVEN: “Youdo realize—” I lower my voice to a hiss. “My freedom means nothingoutside these walls with a ruined mark.” I’d be more ostracized than I am now.
JUDE: “There must be somethingyou want—”
RIVEN: “Something more than mylife?” I grit my teeth. Even my curse isn’t worth that. “What doyouwant? What will it take to let me out of this?”
Jude’s smile is paper-thin now as he stands slowly. “The gods themselves could plead your case at my gates, and I would not open them. You will not leave this Playhouse as long as I live.”
The words set a chill in the air.
RIVEN: “Leave.” The word comes out as a whisper but fills the room as if I’d yelled.
JUDE: “Perhaps sleep on it—”
RIVEN: “Gods,I saidleave.” I snatch the letter opener and turn to chase him away this time, though Jude is already halfway out the door and barely manages to save his toes when I slam it after him.
I press my back to it, breathing until my vision adjusts to the dying light. Though it’s still easy to see my problems doubling tenfold in front of me.
So long as he lives.
I won’t just have to escape Jude. I’m going to have to kill him.
But Jude has underestimated me, too. I’ve spent my entire life studying the Players. My father gave his life to ensure they stay caged inside this theatre.
And Jude has no idea who he’s let into the Playhouse.
Act I: Scene XV
