Chapter 20 · Lights Before the Curtain

Orla’s scream came from above them.

It was not the sharp cry of someone startled by a falling prop. It climbed through the theater in ragged layers—pain first, then fury, then a strangled sound that seemed to belong to the building itself. Dust shook loose from the ceiling. Somewhere beyond the shattered mirror hall, a bell rang once.

Then the Curator spoke.

“Payment received.”

Maeve’s bleeding hand closed around the torn scrap of the missing page. The paper writhed against her palm like a living thing, its ink bleeding into the cuts across her knuckles. Around her, the last fragments of the mirrors hung in the air, suspended in a glittering storm. Eli stood between her and the largest shard, shoulders hunched, blood running from a cut above his eyebrow.

“Where is she?” Maeve demanded.

The Curator’s voice came from every direction at once. From the floorboards. From the broken glass. From the inside of Maeve’s skull.

“The lighting booth. The contract is being amended.”

Eli’s face changed.

He seized Maeve’s wrist and pulled her toward the only door left standing. “We have to move.