Page 85 of Heavenly Bodies

‘Bad, bad little mouse. Always trying to run.’ He tutted, knocking back his drink without shifting his gaze.

Elara did not move as she looked down at the stage. Nausea swept over her as two grey eyes found her throughout the whole crowd of dancers. A look of love and will in them.

At the same time, Gem’s hands were waving madly as though creating her own symphony as her puppets danced.

The way the prima ballerina moved, how it had stirred something in Elara, finally made sense. For it was Sofia, firmly in the grip of Gem’s control, who continued to hold her gaze as she stood centre stage, as the dancer dressed as Ariete came up behind her, cradling her as he pulled a knife and slit her throat.

Elara did not hear the scream that ripped through her as she lurched towards the balcony, her hands outstretched. She did not see the blood gush from Sofia’s neck, did not hear the panic of the crowd, the chaos that ensued. She did not hear Ariete’s cackles of glee. Pain engulfed her so thoroughly that time slowed. She saw herself from outside her body, saw Ariete turn, a demented gleam in his eyes at the performance he’d created. Saw Eli blink slowly, the only sign ofanyreaction to the display. She felt her power rip from her. She felt the hopelessness of it all. And the need to get to Sofia’s still body. Sobbing with pain and grief that were tearing her mind apart, she climbed the balcony, and threw herself from it.

The last thing she heard was Ariete’s gasp of shock as she fell. The crowd continued to shriek at the spectacle. At Elara’s pale skin, ebony hair spilling around her, neck twisted at the wrong angle, and eyes glassy with death.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Elara was blinded by tears as she ran, the slick Asterian cobbles providing no purchase. She slipped, forcing her feet to move, the past few minutes repeating again and again in her head.

Sofia’s face. The blood across her throat. The illusions that had risen to Elara, almost unbidden. The fall that she had made the audience and Ariete believe was real. She had felt the fall as it happened, as the illusion took hold, like being in two places at once, as she had rushed to the door of the royal box and out of the theatre. Nobody had been able to see her, the illusion too powerful to deny. Elara was not running down the Opera House’s grand staircase. Elara was not rushing from the building’s entrance, on to the cobbled streets. Elara was dead.

Even now, she panted at the exertion it took to maintain the illusion of her broken, twisted corpse back at the Opera House. She didn’t have a plan, didn’t know how long she could keep her magick there going, deceiving Ariete, before it sputtered out.

She just kept running.

Up ahead, she could see the two statues that marked the beginning of the Bridge of Tears—two weeping, kneeling women, facing each other and carved from grey stone. A shadow waited between them.

‘Did anyone ever tell you that you look sublime in red?’ a familiar voice called. Enzo stepped out of the gloom, but stopped, easy demeanour gone as he took in her shaken state.

‘Get it off me,’ she whispered, sinking to the wet, hard ground. She pulled at the crimson dress.

‘Get it off!’ she screamed, yanking at the chain of rubies around her neck. The chain snapped, gems scattering around her like spilt blood as her chest heaved and heaved, her breath coming in short gasps between sobs. Enzo swore before crossing the space between them in two strides. With one hand, he whipped out a knife from his belt, deftly cutting through the lace stays at her back. He ripped the dress away, leaving her in nothing but a long, thin slip.

‘It’s okay, Elara, it’s okay.’ He knelt behind her, crushing her to him as he breathed her in. ‘You’re safe now.’

She winced, and he instantly loosened his grip.

‘El, I’m so sorry. Leo searched every room but he couldn’t find Sofia.’

‘Dead,’ she whispered.

‘What did you say?’

‘She’s dead. Ariete, he killed her.’

Enzo cursed, holding her as she sank to the ground. ‘I’m so sorry, El. I’m so sorry. How did you get away from him?’

‘I illusioned my death,’ she said, the world growing further and further away. ‘I’m trying to maintain it even now, but I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.’

Enzo replied, but she didn’t hear him. Her ears rang as she faintly registered the sound of running feet and familiar voices. Merissa, and then Isra. They were saying something,but she couldn’t follow the words, as Enzo’s arms tightened around her again.

Cancia’s blood was beginning to fade from her body, Ariete’s venom lurking and creeping back into her bones. But she didn’t care. Not when her thoughts filled with her best friend, hersister’sneck slashed red, the life fading from her clever grey eyes.

She saw Leo appear from the other side of the bridge, concern in his eyes as he ran towards them. When he approached, Enzo briefly explained what had happened, and Elara let it all wash over her.

‘We have to get to the boat now. The moment we cross into Helios, we’ll be safe.’ Leo’s voice seemed distant to her. Then, when the prince didn’t respond: ‘Enzo?Enzo?’

Still no response.

‘Elara.’

Pure, animal instinct cut through her pain at that tone, her back straightening. It was the tone of a king, one that demanded an answer.

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