Scarlett craned her neck back toward the bridge, its lights fluttering as if winking at her. Two days ago she would have said it was impossible, but now the thought didn’t even cross her mind. She wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but she’d stopped doubting the magic.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” The boy stirred his cider, sending fresh streams of apple-scented steam into the air.

“Oh—” Scarlett was about to say no, her standard response, but then she remembered something. “Did you say this would help me to see things more clearly?”

“You’ll not find a brew like this anywhere else.” The monkey on his shoulder nodded again in agreement.

A welcome chill raced over Scarlett. What if this was the reason Nigel had told her to follow the boy with the heart made of black? Maybe if she drank the cider her eyes would be sharp enough to spot the clue she needed.

Scarlett snuck a peek at the game’s instructions: Number four will cost you something valuable.

“What will I have to pay?” Scarlett asked.

“Not much—the last lie you told.”

It didn’t seem like much of a price. But even if the cider was not the next clue, it would most likely give her some sort of edge, which she definitely needed.

Feeling fortunate she’d taken Aiko’s advice in the tavern, Scarlett leaned close and whispered her story about the mermaid fountain. The boy looked disappointed at not being told a juicier lie, but he handed her the cup.

Browned sugar and melted butter with hints of cream and toasted cinnamon. It tasted like the best parts of the Cold Season, mixed with just a hint of heat. “It’s delicious, but I don’t see anything different. …”

“It takes a minute or two to kick in. I promise, you won’t be disappointed.” The boy nodded a parting good-bye, and his monkey saluted her as he began pushing his cart in the direction of the tricky bridge.

Scarlett took another sip of cider, but now it tasted too sweet, as if it were trying to mask a harsher flavor. Something wasn’t right. Scarlett’s emotions were swirling into messy grays and dull whites. Normally Scarlett just saw flashes of color attached to her feelings, but as she watched the boy depart, she could see his skin shifting to ashy gray, while his clothes turned black.

Scarlett blinked, unsettled by the image, only to be more disturbed when she opened her eyes once more.

Now everything was shades of black and gray. Even the candlelight lining the bridge was foggy gloom instead of golden. She tried not to panic, but her heart beat faster with every step as she crossed back over the bridge and returned to a world no longer full of color.

Caraval had shifted to black and white.

Scarlett dropped the cider, buttery gold liquid splashing over gray walkways, the only puddle of bright amid the awful new dull. The boy with the monkey was nowhere to be seen. He was probably laughing at her as he pushed his cart, searching for a new victim.

She looked up and found herself near the Glass Tavern’s back exit. Aiko had just stepped outside, her bright dress now charcoal.

“You look dreadful,” she said. “I’m guessing you didn’t catch the young man you were after?”

Scarlett shook her head. Behind Aiko, the door to the tavern was closing. Scarlett scanned the inside quickly enough to see Julian had still not arrived, or if he had, he’d already left. “I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“Then make it into something better.” Aiko strolled down the cobbled street as if the world could crumble around her and she’d just keep going. Scarlett wanted to feel like that, but the game seemed to be constantly working against her, and she imagined it was easy for Aiko, since she was only observing. No one had stolen her sister, or the color from her world. Scarlett could picture Aiko gliding on air if enough bits of earth fell away. The only thing she held on to securely was the battered notebook in her hand. Brownish green, the color of forgotten memories, abandoned dreams, and bitter gossip.

It was an unattractive thing, yet—

Scarlett’s thought broke off. The journal was in color! An ugly color. But in a world made of black and white, it called to Scarlett. Maybe this was how the cider worked? It took away the colors of everything so Scarlett could clearly see the things that really mattered—or find the next clue.

Number four will cost you something valuable.

Nigel’s advice really had been clue number three. After Scarlett followed the boy with a heart made of black, he had led her to the boy with the cider, which had taken away her ability to see colors—costing her something valuable.

Her chest now fluttered with excitement, rather than panic. She hadn’t been tricked; she’d been given what she needed to find the fourth clue.

Scarlett followed as Aiko paused in front of a busy waffle-maker. He dipped one of his pastries in the darkest chocolate before passing it to Aiko in exchange for a glimpse at a page in her journal.

Carefully, Scarlett tried to take a look as well.

Aiko snapped the book shut. “If you want to see what’s inside, you’ll have to give me something like everyone else.”

“What sort of something?” Scarlett asked.

“Do you always focus on what you’re giving up, rather than what you’ll be gaining? Some things are worth pursuit regardless of the cost.” Aiko beckoned Scarlett onto a street lined with hanging lanterns, smelling of flowers and flutes and long-lost love. The road narrowed, a watery canal hugging one side as the other curved around a carousel made of roses.

“A song for a donation.” A man in front of a pipe organ held out a thick hand.