He’s so convincing, I almost want to believe him.
But I don’t. I remembereverysleepless night, and I remembereverylonely day, getting weaker and weaker.
“You attacked me,” I hiss through my teeth. “Tell mewhy.”
“Me? Cause a scene? Unimaginable!” Jude rolls his eyes. “I was probablybored,Alistaire.”
The padding of footsteps and chatter parade outside. The other Players heading down to the stage door. The lights fall around us, candles hushing out one by one.
I pull the arrow back farther. “Call for them and you’re done.” I cock my head at the mirror. “Portal.Outside.Now. Before they notice we’re gone.”
Questioning him will have to wait.
At last, Jude looks uneasy. “We’re in the North. I don’t know where the closest mirror will be. It could take us anywhere.”
“Guess you’ll just be risking it,” I hiss.
Jude stares evenly at me and my arrow for a hard minute before abruptly turning to the ornate mirror hanging over the lattice red-and-gold wallpaper. He brushes a hand over its frame, then brings his palm flat against the glass, uttering a few words.
I grab the cloak off the hook and hurl it at his feet. “You’ll need that,” I say as the glass opens up. His shoulders shake with laughter.
He turns a look back at me, the surge of Craft making his eyes glow like candlelight. “We’ll be needing a lot more than that to survive this, Alistaire,” he mutters and steps through the portal with me close behind.
INTERMISSION
Intermission: Scene I
I’m not sure I’ve ever been so cold in my life, andthat’ssaying something.
But then, I’ve never been to Paraskenia. Or in this particular tent, staring at this particular family.
I count an older woman and man and what I assume are their two grown daughters. Judging by their faces, I think they must be surprised to see us, too, until the older woman cries out something to the effect of, “Ourprayers—they’ve been answered!” and falls to her knees.
“Aren’t you all lucky? I don’t usually make house calls,” says Jude casually, but he’s stiff as one of the costume mannequins, and I’m guessing he’s also noticed how cold it is out here.
We’re in a canvas tent with four sleeping rolls and a single mirror, from which we’ve barged through. The air smells of smoke, I think from the remainders of a fire I spot burning to its last coals through the slit of the tent.
“Are you alone?” I demand.
“Alistaire, darling, that’s no way to ask—”
This, of course, is when the lot of them notice the arrow I’m pointing at Jude’s back. Their expressions fall, shifting rapidly. Before rage can manifest on their tongues, I whisper to Jude, “Make them forget.”
He turns and rolls his eyes at me. “I’m a Player, Alistaire, not a magician. Players can put things into your heads, but we can’t take them out.” He turns back to the family. “You’ll hold this meeting dear to your hearts, yes?”
Their eyes glaze over, gold and filmy, all at once. I shiver.
“Sodear to your hearts that you wish to share none of it,” he drawls. “You know how greedy people can be. Would be a shame for someone to come try to take this beautiful mirror from which aPlayercame, now, wouldn’t it?”
“No, never, I wouldn’t think of it,” the man babbles.
“Lovely,” Jude says with a nod. “And with that, we bid you farewell, as we must be on our way. Unless you have gifts for us, of course.”
It takes all the self-control in the world not to elbow him, so I settle for, “You’re terrible,” as the family gathers every last bit of food, silver, and a wool cloak from their bags, compiling it in a single pack that they rest in Jude’s hands. He returns a brilliant smile and a bow, then proceeds to gallivant through the tent flap, my arrow just behind him.
“That was an awful thing to do,” I whisper as we step into the night. We’re in the outskirts, and the city isn’t far off; I can see the lights. More importantly, I can see the Playhouse.
I’ve actually made it out.
