“Even more crowded than last year, if you can believe it.” Dace shouts to be heard over the din. Scanning the crowd as he adds, “It’s like every single citizen of Enchantment is here. Maybe even some out of towners as well.”
“Why would anyone choose to come here to ring in the New Year? Talk about depressing.” Dace and I exchange a quick look, as he grips my hand tighter and pulls me through the mad crush of bodies.
The two of us ducking clouds of confetti and clock-faced balloons that drop from the ceiling like giant chunks of hail. Passing walls plastered with black-and-silver banners proclaiming HAPPY NEW YEAR! as a hidden projector sends an image of a neon coyote swirling through the room.
It’s madness.
So much sensory overload, I’m not even sure where to look. Which is probably why we’ve made it all the way to the center before I realize that along with all of the noisemakers and glow sticks, everyone present is wearing a mask.
“What is it with these people and masks?” I glance all around. Unlike the masks worn on the Day of the Dead, none of these are skull masks, but they’re elaborate all the same. Some covered in lace, some with intricate feather headdresses attached, some harlequin-style, some ribboned and jeweled, some in the shape of butterfly wings, some bearing giant, hooked noses, some with horns, some crafted from slim pieces of silk intended to obscure only the surrounding eye area and nothing more.
“As if it wasn’t hard enough to find Phyre and Cade in this crush. This makes it nearly impossible!” I shout to be heard above the noise.
“Originally, the masks were meant to represent the darkness dwelling inside. Their removal during the midnight kiss symbolized an act of purification, a chance to begin anew. But the Richters aren’t much for tradition. They’re always driven by their own sordid agenda.” Dace presses his lips to my ear, his touch brief but welcome. “Wearing a mask lessens the inhibitions. Which in turn, inspires the susceptible state the Richters manipulate.”
“Everything they do has an angle.” I continue to survey the room. The constant swirl of flash and noise, bubbles and fog, make it impossible to discern anyone in particular. “How are we supposed to find our friends, much less our enemies? Lita said they’d be in the usual spot, but I can’t even tell where that is.”
“We’ll find them the same way we always do,” Dace says. “Tune out the noise, and tune in to what your gut already knows.” He swipes two masks off a table and hands one to me.
“Got anything a little more discreet?” I eyeball the plain black mask he slips over his face, preferring it to the bright turquoise one with the silver-and-gold feathers he gave me.
“It suits you,” he says, carefully arranging it to cover my eyes, before adjusting the strap to lie smoothly against the back of my head. Then pressing his lips to my cheek, he says, “C’mon, Santos. Follow me.”
Glittering bits of confetti rain down all around us as Dace pulls me through the slam of bodies. Leading me halfway across the room to where Xotichl is sitting with Lita as Auden stands off to the side with his mask pushed back on his forehead, caught in an intense conversation (or maybe that’s just because of all the yelling required to be heard in the crowd) with a man I don’t recognize.
“I just read your text for the hundredth time.” Lita glances up from her phone. “And while I’m glad you’re still alive and your soul is returned,” she directs the words at Dace, “I think the real headline here is that Phyre Youngblood is a poison woman!” She shakes her head, and pulls her Marilyn Monroe mask back down to cover her face. “Did I tell you, or did I tell you?” She speaks through molded, puckered lips.
“Did you tell us what?” Xotichl says. Having forfeited wearing a mask for her own, natural, clean-scrubbed good looks, she scrunches her nose in amusement. “I don’t recall you ever mentioning that particular theory.”
“I said I didn’t trust her.” Lita pushes her mask up again, pointedly looking at each of us. “I said she was up to something. And this proves I was right!”
Xotichl shrugs, not entirely convinced, while Dace jabs a thumb toward Auden and says, “Who’s he talking to?”
“You mean the guy with the ponytail and the double hoops in his ears?”
It takes a second for us to catch it, but when we finally do, Dace and I lean toward her and say, “Xotichl—can you see him?”
She takes a deep breath and nods ever so slightly. But before I can react, she’s quick to add, “I can see him in
the same way I did in the Lowerworld. The outline of his shape, the color of his energy. Stuff like that. Figured those things swinging from his neck and ears was either a ponytail and hoop earrings, or he’s just another Rabbit Hole demon.”
“So the magick did stick.” I study her closely. I didn’t think it was possible. Then again, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that there’s way more to the world that I’ve yet to discover.
“I didn’t say anything earlier because I wasn’t sure if it would last, and I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up,” she says. “But now, I’m thinking maybe after this whole mess is settled, we can go down there again and see if it improves.”
“Count on it.” I raise a grin. Grateful for one good thing in a big, fat pile of awful.
“Anyway, ponytail man is from a record label. Auden met with him earlier. He’s interested in signing Epitaph. Isn’t that great?”
Xotichl is brimming with excitement, so I do my best to match it. But part of me can’t help but question why anyone would come to Enchantment on New Year’s Eve to scout bands. It seems strange. Doesn’t really make sense. But Xotichl is so adept at reading energy, I’m sure if there was anything strange about it, she would have caught on immediately.
“Any sign of Phyre or Cade?”
“They’re both here. Suriel too,” Xotichl says.
“They got here just before me. I was about twenty people behind them in the line to get in,” Lita says. “So that’s when I decided to go through the back.”
“Did they see you?” I ask, an idea forming in my head.