“No talking once we get inside. And keep your mask on.”

The man in the crow mask flicks off the ash from his cigarette. The smoke curls in a blue-grey plume up into the fog over the city.

Pale blue eyes meet mine from under his mask, half-shadowed by the high walls of the alley. If my heart weren’t thundering in my ears I might have found them beautiful. I wonder if this is the color they say the sky used to be.

“You can still turn back,” he says. “Trust me, you’re not going to like what you see tonight.”

“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. “And I don’t trust you.”

“Smart,” he says with a smirk. “Pity you’re not smarter, though. If you were, you wouldn’t be here at all. Come on, then. Don’t wander off.” He turns and slips into the darkness further in.

I hesitate a beat too long before stepping in after him. Fear sends regret plunging into my stomach as the darkness swallows me. I move to turn back, and someone catches me from behind, pressing a hand over my mouth. My yelp of surprise is swallowed in their grip.

“I told you not to wander off,” the crow mask growls in my ear. I fight to regain control of my pulse, the urge to bite his hand.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

I nod, shaking. He lets go of me, and I gasp for breath as quietly as I can.

He’s not looking at me anymore, instead busying himself with tapping on the wall adjacent to us in a short, rhythmic pattern. A door slides open where there had been brick just before.

“Bright lights this night,” a voice calls from within.

“Twin stars cast twice the shadow,” the crow mask responds.

A moment of silence, then a shuffling sound. A hunched man with a fox mask emerges, holding two silver pins.

“May the heavens be silent,” he whispers.

“May our drums outlive the thunder,” the crow mask replies, taking the pins and fixing them to our cloaks. The fox mask nods and turns back, gesturing for us to follow.

It feels like ages, walking in the dark. Our footsteps echo slightly. Somewhere distant there’s the sound of music and laughter, growing closer as we progress. I still can’t see a thing, and have to resort to clinging to the crow mask’s sleeve.

Finally we reach a door. Light filters out around the edges, and the music follows. The fox mask raps loudly, thrice then twice. It swings open, bringing the smell of wine.

It’s blinding, at first, as we’re thrust through the doors. I’ve never been somewhere so brightly lit. Dancers, musicians, couches of tangled lovers and trays of delicacies seem to blur past us, a circus of excess.

“Corvus!” someone calls from nearby. He’s a large man in a suit of blue satin, his mask that of a bear. “Glad you could make it, friend. And — oh, who’s your guest? I’ve not seen this star before.”

“Karhu,” the crow mask greets the bear. “Panter,” he says, giving the name of my mask.

“Ah, a fierce beast indeed,” the large man laughs. “What a treat, what a treat. And how long will you be staying, dear? I’m sure our host here has quite a night of fun planned for you, but I do hope he’ll consider sharing. Eh, Corvus?”

“Careful, Karhu,” the crow mask warns, voice sharp. “If you want a toy, bring your own.”

“Oh, no offense intended, none at all,” the bear mask says, wiping sweat from his temple. “I wouldn’t dare, sir. Please, enjoy your evening, miss Panter.” He hurries away.

“Oh, it’s Corvus!” a woman’s voice calls from the other side, a moment later. “Here he is, everyone. You know, you’re terribly late,” she chides, having made her way closer. She’s a busty woman with long red hair. Her dress is shockingly low-cut, layers of shimmering greens and blues to match her peacock mask.

“I’m sure you handled it fine,” he answers, moving her hand from his arm, “judging by the stink of wine. Who let Karhu in, by the way? He’s getting on my nerves.”

“I’m sure you have someone you can send to take care of him, if you’re really sick of him,” the peacock laughs darkly, her breasts bouncing in sync. “But enough about that drunkard. Rumor has it you’ve brought a new face among us. And on a night like this, no less. Do tell me everything, dear — this is unlike you, after all.”

“It’s none of your concern,” the crow answers. “Just a favor to a friend. She won’t be a regular.”

The peacock’s lips purse, and her eyes flick to me.

“Well, she’s pretty, I’ll give her that,” she says with something bitter in her tone. “But this is cruel, even for you. What, did you bring her just to show off to the dogs in the arena? I didn’t think you were the type.”

I’m glad I’m not expected to speak. I couldn’t begin to understand what they’re talking about, much less form a response.

A vein on the crow’s jaw is popping out, but it’s enough for the peacock to notice. She lets out a laugh that drips with poison.

“Have I struck a nerve? Jealousy, maybe? You don’t want those bastards slobbering all over your little pet? You should have kept her at home, then.”

She sighs, adjusting the straps on her dress. “Oh, loosen up, will you? I’m sure nobody will try anything stupid, not with you glowering like a gargoyle the whole time. Just keep an eye on your girl and it’ll be fine.” He doesn’t respond, still eyeing her coldly. She turns on her heel and disappears back into the crowd.

“Remember, not a sound,” he growls in my ear, when we finally make it through the crowd. “Once we enter the arena, everything will fall into place. Watch closely, now.”