Chapter 23
CHAPTER
Twenty-Three
In the velvet embrace of Malek’s carriage, Thea reached into her cloak pocket and withdrew the key.
It glowed like a lantern. For a brief beat of her heart-spell, its power was so rich, so potent, that it illuminated the carriage with a thousand possibilities of fate, each strand gleaming in different colours, making Thea wonder at this magic that lived and breathed within her.
Wishing she had been born to it. Wishing it didn’t belong to him.
She forced herself to smile across the carriage at Malek. ‘I am sorry it took me this long to make; it was a greater challenge than I’ve embarked on before. I hope your sister fares well?’
Malek received the key with trembling eagerness. ‘All will be well now,’ he murmured, eyes locked on it. ‘I confess, I did not expect it to be beautiful; I always thought of a key as an object with a use, a means to an end, but this . . . Why, it’s a work of art.’ He lifted his gaze to her.
The tension in Thea’s smile eased; even if he could not see the threads of fate rippling through the carriage, he saw the workmanship in the key, her skill that had given it its potency.
‘As are you.’ Malek’s dimple appeared.
And at last, so did the payment that was necessary for this expenditure of power, this working of fate that she had begged and begged not yet, holding it off just a little longer, just enough to allow her to savour this moment with Malek.
The last moment he would look at her this way.
It popped into her head like an intrusive thought: five years of life.
Her smile melted from her face. Five years.
‘What do I owe you for this?’ His throat bobbed up and down. ‘It must be . . . considerable.’
‘It is,’ Thea whispered.
Malek reached across the carriage to clasp her hand.
‘It’s all right, Thea.’ His smile was tentative.
‘I know what I asked for; for me, no price is too steep for saving my sister from that snake.’ He searched her gaze.
‘Nor will I think any differently of you for taking it. I invited you to the ball for the pleasure of spending more time with you. Had I not asked you for this key, I still would have sought your company.’
Thea took a shaky breath. Jasper had told her that his power required balance, that she couldn’t steal time.
But the way that Malek was looking at her, tender and truthful, prepared to sacrifice a slice of his life for his sister, decided Thea.
What were a few more headaches, another fainting fit, awful as they had been, compared to five years of Malek’s life?
‘I will not take a price from you,’ Thea said softly. ‘Not for this, not when you only wish to do good. It—’ She braced her quivering hands on the velvet bench either side of her. ‘It doesn’t seem fair to me.’
Malek’s breath escaped in a single sigh. ‘You, lovely Thea, are a gift. I cannot thank you enough.’
His dimple reappeared, giving Thea the urge to move and sit beside him. She gave in.
‘Hello, there.’ His smile warmed.
The carriage lurched, throwing them both against one side as it swerved wildly, two of its wheels lifting from the street before the coachman shouted to the horses, drawing them to a halt.
The wheels hit the cobblestones, the impact juddering through Thea as she clung onto the bench, her gown letting out a single high-pitched scream. ‘What was that?’
Malek leapt from his seat, opening the carriage door to reveal the far end of the Magic Quarter, next to the Crypt, before the exit that led onto Prague Bridge.
The street had ruptured.
A rift was running down the centre, tearing the liminal space apart.
Within the rift was a void, blacker than night, its nothingness a presence all of its own.
Mist drifted up. Folks from the Magic Quarter were running out of their homes, exclaiming at the damage, and Thea made to exit the carriage, but Malek grabbed her wrist. ‘There’s nothing you can do now,’ he said, wearing his concern on his face.
‘But—’
‘Come to the ball with me, Thea. You are Lord Stiltskin’s apprentice, are you not?’
Thea frowned. ‘Yes.’
‘Then the apothecary was never yours. It always belonged to him, will always belong to him. You do not owe Lord Stiltskin, nor this Magic Quarter, your entire life.’
Thoughts squalled in Thea’s mind as she stared at Malek. He snapped the carriage door shut and thumped on the roof. It rattled on, exiting the Quarter, skirting the rift and leaving it in their wake. ‘I need to check that my friends, my rabbit, the apothecary are safe . . .’
A raven dashed through the carriage window.
Malek started, but Thea half tore the note from its talon:
We are all fine. Go to the ball, this can all wait for a night.
With love, Talibah
‘My friends agree with you.’ Thea slumped back against the seat, her golden gown half-heartedly trilling a little melody.
Malek poured Thea a healthy glass of champagne.
As she accepted it, a horrible thought lodged in her brain. One that grew and grew until she couldn’t think of anything else. Until it was a single roar. And it bore Jasper’s voice: Fate took its price from you. If I hadn’t entered when I did, then I do not know how much more it would have taken.
Had she just broken the Magic Quarter?
Carriages wound up to the castle, perched atop a hill like an eagle in its eyrie, overlooking Prague and the Vltava river ribboning through it.
Horses stamped their hooves in impatience, tossing their manes and huffing plumes of steam into the cold night as the line of carriages crawled through the Giant’s Gate.
Thea’s dress hummed as she looked out of the window, up at the statues of clashing titans battling either side.
Their carriage clattered through a courtyard, then another gate, leading to yet another courtyard; Prague Castle was immense.
Thea’s nerves returned in force; she should have turned back, gone to help her friends.
But they’d told her not to. And Malek had been right: what did she owe the Magic Quarter, really?
She’d never chosen it. Or if she had, she possessed no memory of the fact.
‘They are giving out masks at the door,’ Malek noticed.
‘How scandalous,’ Thea teased.
‘Quite.’ Malek smoothed his wig.
Perhaps he was nervous. Thea traced the frost-patterned window as they awaited their turn to disembark.
The castle had been left in disrepair since the Bohemian Revolt, until Empress Maria Theresa had got her hands on it and decided to renovate.
Thea searched the skies in case she’d been sent another raven, but saw only decorations: candlelit orbs were hung from trees like fallen moons, making the snowy rooftops and courtyards sparkle.
On exiting the carriage, Thea spotted tiny lanterns strung everywhere, until the castle shone as brightly as a star itself, lit up against an indigo sky.
Trunks sat at regular intervals, with silks and satins spilling from their open mouths like treasure, inviting guests to rummage through their wares.
Thea found a mask in golden silk, a perfect match for her dress. Tying it around her eyes, she turned to Malek. ‘How do I look?’
He appraised her through his own mask, a forest green which complimented his tawny eyes, cut to flatter his smile and dimples, and suiting his brocaded suit and breeches nicely.
‘You are, quite simply, a vision,’ he proclaimed.
His dimple lessened. ‘Though I had been expecting you to wear the gown I had gifted you, you are radiant in gold.’
Thea stifled her confusion. Who else could have sent her this gown but Malek?
But there was no time to ponder that now, as other guests were donning their masks, crowding impatiently behind them.
Thea took Malek’s arm, allowing him to guide her into the Spanish Hall and the spectacle of the Winter Ball.
As the beautifully carved doors opened to admit them, Thea’s intake of breath was audible. Living in the Magic Quarter for the past seven years, dipping her fingers into the pool of fate, had little prepared her for the sight that lay before her.