Page 23 of Chaos Carnival (Cirque de Sanguine #2)

Chapter 22: Veiled Visions

Tess

“You practiced without me?” Lilith's voice sounded like it was coming through water, distorted and rippling.

I giggled, swaying as Maverick's arm tightened around my waist. “Practice makes perfect,” I sang, the words tasting like a purple haze on my tongue.

The apartment walls kept shifting, breathing almost, and behind Lilith, dark wisps coiled and stretched, forming into people. So many people, all laughing, pointing, their faces twisted in cruel mirth. Lilith, standing there in her expensive clothes while darkness rained down around her.

I tilted my head, studying the scene. “Poor Lil, it's all so dark, Lil. Why are they so dark on you?”

Through the haze of shifting colors and dancing shadows, a familiar crystalline voice cut through my hazy mind.

“My dear, while I typically encourage artistic exploration of consciousness—having dabbled quite extensively myself in various mind-altering substances during my corporeal years—I must say you appear to be having what the youth these days call a 'bad trip.'“

Oscar's skull sat on the coffee table, his empty eye sockets somehow managing to convey genuine worry. The crystal caught the light in fractals that splintered across my vision.

“Beaut—” I reached out to touch one of the void people, but my hand passed through empty air.

“Beautiful like the wallpaper at my deathbed, perhaps. Though I dare say even that held more charm than your current state of supernatural intoxication.” His voice carried that sharp wit I'd grown used to, but underneath lay something softer. The room spun lazily as I processed his words. Even in my state, I could hear the real concern beneath his usual sardonic tone.

Lilith's eyes narrowed, something like alarm crossing her features. “What happened?” she demanded, looking at Maverick.

“Sit down,” Maverick was saying, trying to guide me to the couch, but the cushions looked like they were made of writhing snakes, and I jerked away.

“No no no,” I said, wagging my finger. “Snakes bite. They always bite. Ask Ivan. He knows all about biting snakes.”

“Tess,” Lilith's voice cut through the kaleidoscope of images spinning through my mind. “Look at me.”

I did, but there were three of her now, all wearing different expressions: concern, anger, and something that looked almost like fear. “Which one are you?” I asked, reaching out to touch one of the Liliths. My hand passed through empty air.

“What happened?” Lilith asked again, her voice sharp.

“She tried to show me the thread-weaving,” Maverick explained, finally managing to get me to sit in an armchair. “But something went wrong. The lines... attacked her. Wrapped around her throat and disappeared into her skin.”

I watched in fascination as his words took physical form, floating around his head like golden butterflies. “So pretty,” I murmured, trying to catch them.

“Shit,” Lilith snarled. “She tried to weave without protection circles, or proper grounding.”

Through the haze of colors, Oscar's dry voice cut through with crystal clarity: “Well my dear, it appears you've managed to achieve what I never could in life—simultaneously existing in multiple planes of consciousness while maintaining enough wit to still be absolutely ghastly at following instructions.”

The accuracy of his observation struck me as hilarious, and I doubled over laughing, watching as my giggles took physical form, floating up toward the ceiling like soap bubbles filled with starlight.

The butterflies turned to ash, falling in a gentle gray rain I could taste on my tongue—bitter and sweet at the same time.

Maverick's voice cut through, ominous and cold as winter steel, sparking something electric inside me. The playful spark that usually danced in his eyes had vanished, replaced by something ancient and lethal. “Did you tell her she needed those things?”

“I didn't think she'd be stupid enough to try it on her own!” Lilith snapped back.

“Hey,” I protested weakly, but I was distracted by the way the room had started spinning, colors bleeding into each other like wet paint. “Everything's melting...”

“Tess.” Lilith was suddenly in front of me, her hands gripping my face. “Focus. What did you see when the strands went in?”

“Everything,” I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks. They felt hot, like liquid fire. “Nothing. Both. Neither. The spaces in between...” My voice faded, watching as cracks appeared in the air itself, showing glimpses of something vast, harrowing, and beautiful.

“Make her stop talking,” Lilith ordered. “She's making it worse.”

Maverick's face appeared in my field of vision, blocking out the cracks in reality. “Sleep,” he commanded, his voice carrying that seraph resonance that made my bones vibrate.

The last thing I saw before oblivion took me was Lilith's face, those three versions of her merging into one as she muttered something that sounded like, “Well, this is quite curious.”

Then everything went black, and the threads that had been singing in my blood fell silent.