Act II: Scene XV
If I were to guess how long it takes me to get back upstairs for the second half of the show, based on Sil’s face when I reach the wings: too long.
SIL: “Where in the hells have you been?”
I decide not to tell him I was downstairs slaying his Prop Master or that I was nearly murdered by a dead Player who I assume is nowextradead. I also don’t tell him that I had to hide in silence for another ten minutes before Nyxene drifted back upstairs.
It took breaking Marigold’s ankle with a hammer to get that Eleutheraen chain off, which probably would have taken less time if I didn’t have to keep pausing to retch into the nearest corner. Even if Marigoldwasa monster, I can’t help but wonder at what point I became capable of this.
But I have it. I have the chain. I’m getting out of here tonight. It’s all I can do to hide the excited little skip in my step.
Instead of admitting any of this to Sil, I smile politely and say, “The Greenroom. Napping.” To be fair, Ididgo to the Greenroom to drop off the chain in a leather pack, along with a crossbow I snatched from the armory behind Marigold’s workbench.
Sil’s face says he doesn’t believe me. Then he shoves me onto the stage.
After the shadows in Marigold’s lair, the warmth of the stage is overwhelmingly welcome. Like crawling under your sheets and falling asleep after a long day. The ice in my lungs dislodges as I speak my lines.
Then they don’t feel like lines anymore.
Hours melt into days and then years. Or maybe it’s just been a few minutes by the time my world ends with the crash of a closing curtain and the storm of applause roaring outside it. Reality hits like a hailstorm as I follow Titus offstage and the other Players exit in the opposite direction. What looked like the set piece of a brick alley a moment ago suddenly looks more like the wings now.
And what looked like two strangers arguing in that alley are no longer strangers—they’re Sil and Jude, standing backstage.
Pity Jude couldn’t have stayed dead just a bit longer. That’s going to complicate things.
“Fantastic job, Alistaire!” congratulates Sil just as Jude interrupts with, “You need to take my face off. Now.”
“What? Jealous she wore it better?” Titus asks, clapping me on the shoulder.
Jude grits his teeth. “You’ve been in costume too long—Sil,tellher. It’s dangerous—”
“Our Alistaire looks just fine to me. Don’t forget, there’s still curtain call!”
The curtain flies open, and from the opposite side of the stage, Parrish and Arius approach the glaring spotlights, shattering the illusion of the show as they whirl into fond farewells.
Titus follows with gracious “Thank you”sbefore joining the others off to the side.
Mattia crosses the platform next, dropping into a graceful, low bow. The applause slows, confusion stirring at Jude’s—my—absence.
Sil takes the stage next, and the audience flies into hysterics as he bows.
SIL: “I’m proud to announce we had somewhat of a surprise this evening.”
I will the stage to open up and swallow me whole, already puzzling out what’s about to happen. Now that Jude’s back on his feet, Sil is going to spin it like this cast change wasintentional.
“Alistaire,” says Jude softly and coughs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like hell. And that’s really saying something, considering you look like me at the moment.”
Instead of admitting that I had a little scuffle downstairs with the Prop Master, I take in the dark circles under his eyes, the sickly pallor of his skin, and mutter back, “And you look like you spent most of today being dead.”
SIL: “You’ll notice we are short one face on this stage. That of our Lead Player? You see, just earlier today,we found one of our casting call’s own was secretly harboring an affinity for Mimicry the Playhouse hasn’t seen since the likes of our most beloved Player Atlas.”
The audience shouts their approval. I pass over the archives of my mind, recalling Mattia slaughtered Atlas in the arena. I remember this mostly because it’s the only match so bloody that, at first, no one thought either survived.
SIL: “So! Just for you, tonight we invited this surprising new talent to share her discovery.A force to be reckoned with in this year’s casting call. Everyone, welcomeAlistaire Hunt!”
The audience shatters into a storm of cheers and whistles as Jude and I cross center stage. The applause stills a little in confusion, unsure who is who until Sil calls, “A perfect imitation, no? Come this way, Alistaire!”
Reluctantly, I resume the long walk off the main platform and into its round center by myself, surrounded on all sides by faces and screams as I nervously descend into a bow. My heart hammers in my ears as I come back up, the sea of eyes dizzying. I have told fourteen lies today, and this is by far the biggest. But I’m almost done. I’ll be gone in the next thirty minutes tops.
