Page 103 of Heart of Thieves

“Not now.”

My stomach twists at the dejection in his tone. I try to remind myself this mess is only temporary. I just have to keep Enzo here long enough to fill up the voratium on the roof. Once that is finished, the Unbreakable Lie will be undone, and I’ll be able to tell him and the Tentacles everything. I’ll explain all my reasons to Nic, too.

I will fix this.

We just have to make it to the eclipse.

I glance at my watch. “Do you . . . ,” I ask gently, “. . . still want to play Nocturne’s game?”

He shrugs. “Might as well.” But gone is his enthusiasm, swallowed whole by the numbness in our heart.

“It’s nearly six in the morning,” I say, “which means we have two hours. Did you find any clues?”

“I didn’t see anything, and then your emotions . . . Well, then we came running to find you. I thought you were in trouble.”

Ostena and Forsyth flash across my memory, and panic jolts through me. Ostena recognized me. Which means it’s only a matter of time before my father shows up.

“Why don’t we keep looking?” I ask quietly. “See if we can’t find anything?”

“Sure, Lola,” he says before shuffling out of the room.

I follow, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach at the fact that he called me Lola and not an absurd nickname this time.

What have I done?

I spend the next several hours strategically planting illusionary clues to keep Enzo occupied until closer to dawn, but as sunrise ticks closer, the pain in our heart only sharpens. I’d better cut this short so he can get some rest.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I say, “I think the exit might be in the cellar. I saw one of the other players go down and never come out.”

Enzo nods stiffly. “Perfect. Let’s get out of here.” We make our way below, through the illusionary set piece and the door it hides, and into the crisp, country air.

It doesn’t take long for Enzo to spot an odd, glassy tree blending in on the edge of the theater’s grounds. As soon as we step into its shadow, the illusion in the voratium I buried in the ground beneath our feet ripples into view, another set of smoky ribbons twining into letters in the air.

Once lit up alive,

Where deceits thrive.

Your secrets deprived

And morality dives.

Enzo frowns, and my cheeks instantly heat. Certainly not my best poetry, but in my defense, I have a lot going on at the moment.

“What do you think it means?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I have no idea.”

“The most direct bit is probably the ‘where deceits thrive’ piece,” I muse.

Enzo looks up. “You’re thinking my brother’s casino?”

I inwardly thank the stars he caught on so quickly. I’m desperate to sink into my bed and be unconscious for a few hours.

“‘Your secrets deprived,’” Enzo goes on. “That’s pretty obvious, too.”

“Don’t act so excited,” I try to tease, but he doesn’t even grimace in response. Sighing, I steer him toward the street. “Why don’t we head home?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not the Brig.”