“King’s toes,” she whispered. She blinked hard, watching the bird flap its tiny wings. “This is sensational.” A laugh escaped her. “This is amazing!”
Her smile faded ever so slightly when she realized the bird was a dove.
She’d only called herself La Paloma Blanca—the white dove—because it was the first thing that popped into her mind when she joined the carnival. The ringmaster had said a stage name would make her seem more mysterious. So she gave herself one. But she’d regretted naming herself that instantly. Because every time she saw a damn dove, she thought ofhim.
Esmeralda shook her head to rattle all thoughts of Ignacio from her mind. He was gone. If only she could have left her memories of him in that jailer’s cart too.
She threw another card to see if the transformation was a fluke. It wasn’t. A second paper dove fluttered about her wagon. Giggling, she flung the entire deck into the air. A bevy of doves flapped their paper wings.
Her laughter grew.
She raised her arms and twirled in a circle, her skirts whirling around her legs. The doves followed her movement. She lowered her arms. The doves flew low to the floor.
“This is wonderful! Incredible! The bee’s knees!”
She danced, and they danced too.
When her hands fell to her sides, the doves tumbled to the floorboards, landing flat and uncreased as if they had never shifted shape.
“Absolutely astounding,” she said. Her front teeth scraped over her bottom lip as she peered down at the mess of cards on the floor. She rested her hands on her hips. “Now I need to figure out how flying doves will make me so unforgettable that Ángel will have no choice but to pick me.”
The next morning, the train slowed to a stop in the undeveloped lands just beyond the next city they were set to perform in. As far as cities went, it was nothing remarkable compared to some of the wealthier metropolises crowding Costa Mayor’s three coastlines. But as the locomotive passed by the outer edges of the city, she could tell that it was large, with extravagant cathedrals built in the name of King Amadeo and buildings gleaming with new money, so it made sense why Ángel would choose such a place.
Like a swarm of ants finding a picnic platter, the scores of performers and carnival hands funneled out of their boxcars and wagons and got to work. Tents needed to be raised. Games and roller coasters put in place before the day’s end.
The enchantments that fueled the traveling revelry were never as illustrious when the sun was up. Magic was lazy during the daylight hours. Carnival Fantástico had to be built like any other humdrum circus.
Elephants used their trunks to pull the bale ring—a massive steel hoop that helped raise the center poles of the Big Top. People worked in tandem, singing about pretty ladies and money as they clanked their heavy mallets onto stakes. The ringmaster’s newest recruits scampered back and forth, running errands for the stars of the Big Top show. Ángel was forever adding new crew to the carnival, needing to fill in the spots of those whose twelve months had come to an end.
WhenEsmeralda was the lead act, she would have all sorts of new recruits to boss around. She pictured the scene now. Someone would cool her down with a feathered fan while shelounged on a chaise in her expensive costume. She’d be eating cherries, just as she told Ignacio she would when they were younger. People with money were always lazing about eating grapes in the pictures she’d seen. But cherries? Now those were a luxury indeed. She’d only had cherries on a few occasions in her life. Each time it had been withhim.
She stomped her foot. “Stop letting your thoughts drift to that rodent of a boy,” she told herself. “You need to stay focused.”
Wit and panache wouldn’t earn her the lead spot alone. Her personality would only take her so far. She needed a glamorous new costume to fit the bill. It might bite into her savings, but this was an investment for her future.
Esmeralda slinked out her wagon door and headed straight to the tailor virtuoso. She burst through his tent with the full breadth of her excitement on display.
The tailor yelped, and the bolt of fabric in his arms thumped to the ground.
She winced. “Sorry, Jorge. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
He fanned himself with his fingers. “I thought you were one of my creditors finally come to do me in!”
She giggled and bent down to retrieve the fabric. It was a stunning shade of pearly white. Her thumb brushed over the cloth.
“This is perfect,” she whispered.
“It is!” He took it from her, scratching at his strawberry blond hair. “But for what, I haven’t decided.”
“Good thing I am here, then, because I just decided for you. I need a new dove costume.” Something that was as beautifulas her gloves. She couldn’t wear her old getup now. She’d look ridiculous.
“This material isn’t cheap, you know?” he said.
“I can’t expect all reward with no risk.”
“Might you have other reasons for wanting to dress beyond your means?” He wiggled his brows.
“Like what?” she asked.
