Chapter Sixteen
As Elara thudded on to dead, yellow grass, accordion music floated towards her. She was up in an instant, but as she looked around warily, she saw past the wide field to a large, looming tent in the distance.
She raised her hand, making sure the snakestone was still with her.
Netted fingerless gloves graced her fingers, the snakestone nestled safely in her palm.
As her eyes peered further down, she saw a deep-red gown, ruffles bulking out the skirt interspersed with layers of black taffeta, the bodice made from whalebone that dug tightly into her waist. She was suddenly aware of a weight on her head and, feeling gingerly above, made out the form of a small top hat, seemingly tilted sideways on coiled hair.
‘Oh Stars,’ she muttered to herself, picking her skirt up gingerly between a thumb and forefinger. Even in a dream state, Ariete had found a way to paint her into some kind of morbid twin of his.
She held the snakestone up to her eye and saw golden footprints, to her relief, much like the ones in Eli’s dreams, leading her towards a large archway, the tent and other ominous shapes beyond.
As she arrived at the archway, she squinted, realizing there were words painted on it in a curling script.
The Stars won’t save you here.
She turned her head, heart pounding as she expected Ariete to be waiting behind her.
But she was alone, only the lilting music for company.
As she looked through the haze, she realized that beyond the arch was a fairground.
The blurred shapes of the tents were clearer here, huge and circular, striped red and black too.
The air held a slight chill, wind whistling.
Elara looked once more to the warning written above her and, with a determined set of her jaw, stepped through the arch.
‘Ticket, madam?’
Elara jumped, an arm raised in defence as she beheld a young, handsome man, his head shaved, revealing a swirl of tattoos over his scalp. His eyes were completely black, and Elara took a step back.
‘Ticket, madam?’ the man repeated, a vacant smile on his face. Elara subtly weaved an illusion between her fingers, holding up a metallic red ticket. A first test.
The steward peered at it as Elara held her breath.
‘Wonderful. Welcome to Lord Ariete’s Circus of Dreams. We hope you enjoy the show!’
Elara gave a small smile, nodding, but the steward looked vacantly past her, those black eyes dimmed as though he had simply stopped being animated. Elara hurried on, the music louder now that she was past the archway.
She smelled buttered popped corn and cinnamon on the breeze, and she had to pause for a moment and get her bearings. This was strange. Far too strange. She had entered Ariete’s dreams while barely encountering any defence.
She held the snakestone to her eye once more, willing it to show her the way to Enzo’s tether. The reds and blacks of the dream faded away, leaving only the golden footprints that stopped right outside a purple tent, vivid against the muted backdrop through the stone.
Elara began to hurry towards it.
As she approached, she saw a creaking sign planted in the ground before it. ‘Madame Fate’s Fortunes’, it read.
Eli had told her to trust the snakestone if she were to have any hope of finding Enzo’s tether. So without hesitation, she stepped inside.
The lilting accordion music seemed to quieten a little around her, as though even the dream had leaned in closer to inspect the curious place. Elara took a wary step and then another through the dark entrance.
The space was filled with incense smoke too dense to see through. Elara squinted, coughing as she took a few more steps forwards, the smoke clearing.
A woman sat at a table, a crystal ball in front of her, a splay of cards next to it.
She wore a purple headscarf, eyes lined with kohl.
‘Isra?’ Elara breathed.
Isra’s usual hazel eyes, alight with warmth, were black—empty—as she gestured to the seat opposite her. ‘Hello, Elara.’
Elara peered at the figure. It was unsettling, the resemblance to Isra. But this person was just another strange figment of Ariete’s dream, and Elara shrugged off the feeling, perching on the edge of the seat.
‘Would you happen to know where a tether is being hidden?’ she asked, her voice hushed.
Isra blinked, her eyes flashing hazel with fear before blinking once more to black. Elara jolted forwards, catching the change. ‘Isra?’
‘You will find Lord Ariete in due course. But you must know your past, your present and your future before you do.’
Elara impatiently held the snakestone to her eye, but the footsteps stopped right there at the table. She would have to transcend this place to reveal the next step, it seemed.
Isra rippled a deck of cards between her palms, making a faint clicking sound.
Elara bit back a noise of frustration as Isra doled out three cards, each face down. The backs of the cards were finished in a beautiful red-and-black foiling, patterns of constellations gracing them.
‘Your fate, written by the Stars,’ Isra said smoothly. Elara scoffed. ‘Which would you like to see first?’
‘Past,’ Elara sighed. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Isra’s smile snaked up her face in the most disconcerting way as she turned the first card over.
It was from a Tarot deck, not a Stella deck, judging by the border of it and the font of the title.
Elara had played with similar cards many times herself as a teenager with Sofia and Lukas.
But this particular card appeared to be a new one, and her breath hitched as she read its inscription.
‘The Moon.’
A moon was depicted as a bright white orb shining in the darkness.
Below it was a river, and kneeling in it, arms raised to the sky…
was Elara. Her head was tipped back in worship or prayer; she didn’t know which.
To her right was a wolf—one that reminded Elara of Astra, an inky black.
The shadows were darker on that side of the card, and to her left lay a lion illuminated by golden light filtering through the darkness.
‘What is this?’ she whispered.
Isra smiled, leaning forwards as she clasped Elara’s hand and pressed it over the card. ‘Let’s find out, shall we?’
The world spun, the room around Elara shifting and blurring as dark purples made way for blues, constellations wheeling above her. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding on to her snakestone for dear life until finally the colours settled, the room coming back to her.
Except this time, she wasn’t in the fortune-teller’s room.
She looked around, seeing the familiar looming statue before her, one hand holding a skull, the other the moon.
The stars twinkled in the sky above her, and she felt something hard beneath her.
She looked down and saw to her alarm that she was sitting on the Moon’s throne. She was back in the heavens. Back home.
She could see coils of long white hair reaching to her waist, could feel the power bursting from her bones. And cold—she felt cold. Not warm and mortal, not like Elara.
Then her head turned, against her will, as though a puppet was controlling her movements, as though she was simply an observer in her own body.
She saw a shadow in the corner and wanted to scream, but the Moon was already speaking, Elara unable to control the words.
‘I need your help,’ the Moon whispered to the shadows.
‘Well, well, well,’ came a sardonic and familiar reply. ‘The righteous Moon finally needs a favour from a lowly Star.’
Ariete emerged from the darkness, his aggressive charm wrong in the peaceful night.
Every bone in Elara’s body screamed at her to run as she saw the face that haunted her waking thoughts and nightmares.
But the Moon—the body she was in right now—was not fearful.
Instead, she replied with the authority of a queen.
‘I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate,’ she said coldly. Ariete grinned, swaggering towards the throne and bowing before her. ‘So how can I be of service?’
Elara felt a wave of sadness sweep over her that wasn’t her own, but the Moon’s. And fear, too, a thrill of it coursing through her chest.
‘I need you to kill me.’
‘What?’ Ariete laughed.
The Moon’s brow furrowed. ‘Ariete, you’re the only person who I know would do it willingly, who wouldn’t mind being the villain.’
Ariete’s tongue was in his cheek as he mulled over the Moon’s proposition.
‘I know you won’t be able to kill my essence, who I am. But…I need you to bind me—to a mortal body.’
Ariete raised a brow. ‘You’re asking me to perform magick from my world on you? An abomination in this one.’
‘Blood magick, yes.’ The Moon paused. ‘I can’t live like this, so far from my Sun.’
Ariete rolled his eyes.
‘I’m unable to touch him, tortured by spending my life watching him from across the skies. I want a lifetime which I can spend in his arms, where our burdens aren’t so heavy.’
‘And what of me?’
The Moon let out a long breath, and Elara could feel the warring within her. ‘If you do this for me, I will allow you to rule in my stead. I know you’ve always wanted my crown.’
‘The other Celestes would never allow it. One in particular.’ He hissed the last part, looking warily to the shadows on the wall.
The Moon winced. ‘That’s why you’re going to have to bind us all.’
Ariete’s eyes narrowed as the Moon watched him, chewing her lip.
‘What did you just say?’
‘Make us mortal,’ the Moon whispered. ‘All of us. Then let us leave and live human lives. Save for the Dark. Bind it in the Graveyard, and never let it leave.’
The Elara trapped within this body tried to scream. This couldn’t be true—what she was witnessing had to be a cruel joke. There was no way that the Moon had seen this through, that Elara had.
‘What you’re asking of me is impossible.’
‘It’s not,’ the Moon replied. ‘No one will expect it. And I can’t go on like this. It is the only way.’