Page 72 of Heart of Thieves

“Perfect.” He raises his gaze to the dancing phantoms in the sky, a grin lighting his face as he presses a hand to my shoulder.

Now that the show has begun and I have literal glamours flowing out of me, I can’t very well rush off to a restroom. I may have practiced a lot over the past few months, but I’m not that good.

I seek out Estelle lurking in the shadows behind one of the pillars, looking at me with wide eyes as though to say, What the depths are you doing?

Go, I mouth to her, tilting my head toward the stage. Please.

Her perfectly arched brows rise in shock. Me? she mouths.

I nod vigorously. Now!

Pursing her lips, she strides up the steps, and I cast an illusion of invisibility over her at the same instant I send my shadowy dancers in the sky toward the stage. They prowl through the streets, climbing spiderlike over buildings until they coalesce on top of Estelle.

I’m going to have to turn her into Nocturne.

Not even pausing to second-guess the decision, I increase the intensity of the shadows’ movement. Agitated, they draw tighter as the music accelerates.

Then I detonate the illusions like a bomb.

The illusory sound is an explosion. It echoes off the buildings, rattling windows as the shadows balloon outward like shrapnel, smoke whipping people’s faces.

Gritting my teeth, I pull Nocturne out of Estelle with the ice in my veins. The glamour unfurls from the smoke, hair a mist of shadows, face a pale smear, eyes dark and gray and fathomless as she cocks her head and smiles.

When she speaks, I hush every sound in the square.

“Hello, dear Aethera,” she breathes into their ears. “Welcome to Enclosure.”

With that, I shoot walls of darkness around the square that meet overhead like a dome. Enzo gasps, grabbing my arm, and I almost laugh, excitement thrumming through me far more powerful than even the magic.

“Enclosure,” Jade hisses. “Like the children’s toy?”

Audience members whisper excitedly about the popular game—a handheld wooden contraption composed of little mazelike compartments encasing a tiny metal ball. My father brought one home to me for a birthday years ago, and I played with it obsessively. To win, the child turns the toy this way and that, using gravity to maneuver the ball through the mazes inside each enclosure until it finally slides entirely out.

It took me months to succeed with my first one, after which my father got me progressively more difficult versions with increasing numbers of chambers and more complex movements to trip the trap doors between them.

“Maybe,” I agree with Jade in a whisper, as though I don’t know it’s precisely that.

I make Nocturne’s face glow, the only thing visible in the dark.

“This is how the game will work.” I channel the words through Nocturne, grateful I decided to keep her face indistinct from the beginning so I don’t have to be as precise with her mouth movements. “Aethera is now our game board, and on this game board, there are three magical enclosures—one for each night of the game. Tonight’s task, should you wish to play, will be to locate and enter the first before its walls go up at midnight. You will receive a single clue to help you find it.”

“A clue?” Enzo whispers, and I startle so hard the Nocturne illusion flickers.

I grip mentally onto the magic to steady it.

“Jumpy, are we?” he teases.

“Depths, Enzo,” I rasp, “are you trying to kill me?”

“I’ll never tell.” He is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with nervous energy. “What kind of clue do you think she’s going to give us?”

“I don’t know,” I reply.

“I hope it includes cinnamon buns. I’ve been craving them.”

“Make sure you are inside the boundary of the enclosure by the time the clock finishes its toll,” I have Nocturne continue. “Anyone outside at that point will be eliminated.”

“That’s kind of terrifying,” Soren says under his breath.