Act Two: Attend the gala at the Venezia Royale. Wear the mask of the fox. Say nothing. Find the man with the silver scarab pin. Hand him the key you will find in your coat pocket.
“The script says I won’t remember pulling the trigger,” she said. “But you forgot something, Julian.” masquerade dangerously yours script
She turned and walked away, the detonator dangling from her fingers. Behind her, she heard a single, confused footstep on gravel, then nothing but the wind. Act Two: Attend the gala at the Venezia Royale
She found the key—a brass thing etched with a labyrinth—in the lining of her coat. She didn’t remember putting it there. The gala was a whirlwind of silk and lies, a sea of anonymous faces. The man with the scarab pin was waiting by the poisoned fountain. He didn’t speak. He simply took the key, pressed a single, gloved finger to her masked lips, and whispered the line that wasn’t in the script. Find the man with the silver scarab pin