Page 108 of Heirs of the Cursed

Darcia ran faster than she ever had before. Her lungs burned from the smoke and the fire blurred her surroundings, yet she kept moving forward. There was nothing that would make her leave the circus without her, not even the destruction that fell upon her.

“Caeli!” she shrieked, above the crackling of the devouring fire, her eyes looking for her in despair. “Caeli!”

There was no response.

And so Darcia pushed the raffia away from the tent and stepped into the darkness only to be greeted once again by the light of a thousand fires.

Her mind swirled over many thoughts that clouded her judgment, her ability to focus. Darcia pushed them all down as she noticed that the tent was completely empty. The dressing rooms were gone, as were their garments and the animal cages . . . She inspected the place with growing suspicion, a troubling thought creeping into her mind—that someone might have known this would happen.

Had it been the army?

Had Harg fulfilled his promise?

Darcia would never forgive herself if that was the case, because she’d trusted him. The soldiers had an important mission to achieve, and even though Harg was known to be the most feared general in all of Laivalon, she couldn’t bear the idea of him being capable of something so brutal.

After all, the Blood Moon Circus was Conrad’s property. Why would the general push his luck and anger him, knowing that he was the only connection they had with the faceless man who was helping them?

Her breath hitched and faded into the void.

Darcia wandered without knowing where to go. The tent was large, with many treacherous wooden beams that could fall over her and burn her to death.

“Caeli?” she called out to her with hot tears in her eyes, coughing several times before trying again. “Caeli!”

She searched and searched, feeling the crackling of the fire and the heat getting closer . . . But to no avail.

Perhaps she’d imagined it. Perhaps fear had driven her to that point of hysteria, where she was unable to differentiate her imagination from reality. Her own magic, a summoner of illusions, could have been tricking its master. Although she tried to convince herself of that, there was no going back until she was certain.

There was only one place left to search: the stage.

The shadows clung to Darcia as if they were part of her. Her power created a barrier around her, making it difficult to advance. But the orders were clear: she wasn’t to stop. She had to keep walking.

As she reached the curtain that separated the main floor from the stage, her magic pulled her back. The last attempt to protect that broken heart about to burst out of her chest. Darcia pushed it down and pulled the curtain aside, determined to face an inevitable fate.

The world stopped, or maybe her heart did.

Caeli was lying on the ground, motionless.

“Caeli!” she cried out.

Darcia closed the short distance between them, feeling the caress of the flames on the fabric of her dress as a warning of impending doom. A hiss of pain left her broken lips, but the one in her soul was too much to bear and numbed that of her body.

Once she reached her, she fell to her knees, against the dirty ground, until her knees became wet with something she couldn’t quite see. Through her blurred vision due to the tears, Darcia saw her girlfriend’s limp body and rolled her to the side to inspect the wound.

She reached a trembling hand to Caeli’s head and, as she brushed back her dark hair, her skin tainted with thick, red blood. Her body spasmed at the sight of it, but she didn’t let it stop her from looking for the source of the wound. She had to find it in order to close it before it was too late.

She had to find it in order to save her.

With a loud grunt that echoed through the tent, she grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her onto her lap.

“Caeli,” she called her between sobs. “Caeli, wake up!”

Her girlfriend’s sweet voice didn’t answer back. Darcia caressed her cheeks and traced that tiny, faded mark on the brink of her nose. For years, looking at her in such peace had been what made her feel most alive, but all she wanted in that moment was for her to open her eyes and smile to her.

Her words lingered in the circus, over and over again. Pleas for her to wake up, to move . . . To do something.

But Caeli wasn’t moving.

Sniffing her sobs away, Darcia lowered a hand toward her chest, that very place where she usually rested her head to listen to her steady heartbeats. The immediate touch of her skin madeher sigh in agony, for it was cold and stiff—even against the flames that grew higher and stronger around them.

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