The Rose Society
Page 32

Magiano acts first. He turns to the onlookers and waves his arms. “She’s fine,” he calls out. “Just afraid of dragonflies. I know. I worry for her too.”
A few mutters of disbelief come from the crowd, but it works well enough that the people start to disperse, their attention turning back to the other chaos of the city.
“We have to go,” Violetta says as she moves close to me. She puts a hand on my face. It takes me a moment to realize that the visions stopped only because she took my power away. Already, I can feel her slowly giving it back. Behind her, Magiano shoots me an irritated look as he talks to the boatman.
“You didn’t see anything?” I stammer to Violetta. “The fire on the streets? Our father watching us from the canal bridge?”
Violetta frowns. “No. But we did make a scene.”
I collapse backward against the boat and cover my face with my hands. An illusion. It was all an illusion I must have created. But I don’t understand—no one else saw what I did. A hallucination. How is that possible? I think of the precision of the white banners I’d woven over the Night King’s dark ones. I thought I was improving in my powers. Why couldn’t I control them?
A moment later, I realize that because Violetta had to wrench my power away, I had also stopped holding the illusions over our faces. I quickly sit up.
Too late. Magiano’s having some sort of argument with the boatman, who points his oar angrily at me. He doesn’t want us on board anymore. I rise to my feet. The day had felt so hot earlier—now, the air nips at my wet clothes, chilling me.
The boatman pulls to a small dock along the canal, then ushers us off with a string of curses. Magiano skips ahead, bidding him a cheerful farewell. When the boat pulls away from us, he turns to me and holds up a purse stolen off the man.
“If he’s going to be rude about it,” Magiano says, “he might as well pay.”
I’m about to respond when I recognize a soldier in the street. It’s the same young man who had stopped us earlier and turned us onto a different route. He is now leaning over the canal’s edge, listening intently to something our former boatman is yelling up at him. Then the boatman points in our direction. The soldier’s attention turns to us.
Magiano grabs Violetta’s hand and nods. “Follow me.”
We break into a run. Behind us, soldiers shout something and start to push their way through the crowd in our direction. Magiano veers sharply onto a small side street, then darts back into a huge main square. I recognize it immediately as the square where the Night King’s estate is located. We weave through the throngs that have gathered out here. Some mourn, although I can’t tell how sincere they are. Others cheer. I don’t have time to study the scene more closely. Behind us, we can hear the soldiers’ hurried footsteps.
Magiano scowls. “An illusion would be really helpful right now.”
I try, but my strength scatters as soon as I attempt it. I’m too exhausted from my strange hallucination to even pull a shadow from the ground. I shake my head at him. He curses under his breath.
“And here I thought you were powerful,” he snaps.
For an instant, I think he’s going to leave us behind to fend for ourselves, while he vanishes into the crowd.
Instead, he pulls at my energy. He’s going to try to mimic me. I can feel the faint tug of his power against mine—his eyes dart to one side, and there in the crowd, I see him evoke the fleeting shapes of identical versions of us, running in a different direction through the square. At the same time, he pulls us into a thick cluster of people.
“There!” one of the soldiers shouts behind us. I turn to catch a glimpse of them between the milling bodies in the crowd. They are following the decoys’ path.
Magiano lets the illusion drop. It’s most likely all he can do, given my weakened state. We reach the end of the square. From here, the harbor comes into view between the streets’ buildings. I run faster. Beside me, Violetta’s breath comes in gasps.
“Keep going straight,” Magiano calls over his shoulder. “Until you hit the piers. Hide when you get there. I’ll find you.” He takes an abrupt detour, veering sharply left of us.
“Stay with us!” I shout. I’m suddenly afraid he’ll be captured. “You don’t need to be a noble—”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he shoots back. “You’d better wait for me.” Then he’s gone, vanished into the crowd before I can even think of what to say. Moments later, he reappears off in a corner of the square, where he hops up onto the stone railing overlooking a canal and pulls his lute from his back. He shouts something into the square that sounds like a taunt.
Behind us, half of the soldiers change their route to head in his direction. But the others continue pursuing us.
I try again to use my energy. Again, I fail. For a moment, I feel like I’m completely new to using my power, searching and reaching but never quite able to touch the threads of energy hovering inside me and all around us. What has happened to me?
Violetta tightens her grip on my hand. She points to where sailors are throwing ropes off one of the docks. She pulls me along.
An arrow whizzes past us from the roofs. It narrowly avoids hitting Violetta in the arm. Several screams go up from the people we pass. Others part the way as soon as they realize the soldiers are after us. Fear emanates from everyone around us—it feeds me, and I feel my strength grow. Come on, I urge myself. I reach again for my energy.