She scowled down at him. She had joined to get away from the officers hunting for her. To escape the comandante’s wrath. To forget Ignacio.
Her attention roamed upward to the city they were bumping toward. It was so unlike what they just rode through. The buildings were ornate and made from polished stone. The streets were bursting with people in fine clothes that had been dyed in bright hues. It was against the law to wear anything too outlandish, but that was how one knew a person came from wealth. Only the rich could afford to pay the fines accrued by standingout.
The onlookers were jubilant as they waved their pretty flags made in the carnival’s colors. A giant billboard with glowing bulbs showcased some of the carnival’s attractions. At the very center, painted in scrawling letters, it said:
Who Will Be Carnival Fantástico’s New Star?
She returned her gaze to Ignacio. “I joined the carnival because I didn’t want to be a nobody anymore.”
Ignacio’s jaw flexed as if her answer had irked him.
The bell wagon leading the parade began the carnival’s signature ragtime tune. A few more yards and the procession would be fully engulfed between the towering buildings of the city. Not a single officer was in sight, even though the carnival was known for its speakeasies and for harboring fugitives. But Ángel’s alliance with the railroads and the towns they supplied was so strong that not even the king dared to soil their parade.
They were crossing the rim of the city limits. She had to come up with something to make herself stand out. She must get past this first challenge.
“Can you breathe fire by any chance?” she asked.
“Stay focused. I still have questions for you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“If you didn’t write to my father, then I need to find out who did. My only clue is that they used a very peculiar blend of ink. It has a dark undertone but glistens like a kaleidoscope in the light. It can move and shift. Like the posters hanging in the carnival. I know you know the ink I’m speaking of.”
“Of course I do. The deck I use to tell fortunes is drawn up with this very ink. It’s enchanted. One touch, and it can reveal your hidden desires.” She wiggled her brows. “Care for a reading?”
“Who did you get the ink from?” he asked. “I…” He frowned. “I searched high and low for that ink this past year and found it nowhere but within the carnival.”
The past year? I thought he only recently started searching for whoever was writing to the comandante.
“How did you get it?” he asked.
“The cards show up in my curio cabinet before the carnival starts each night.”
“So, it would be the ringmaster, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. No one discusses where the magic comes from or how it works.”
“But you’ve used that ink before. You have personally written letters with it.” He said it like an accusation more than a statement.
“No. I haven’t.” She spoke slowly so each word would find its way to his brain.
He shook his head bitterly. “Are you so callous that you would forget?”
She barked a harsh laugh. “That’s funny coming from you.”
The cheers of the expectant crowd drew her attention. People were shouting out the names of the other acts before her. They called out for Camila and Pilar. They screamed when Paco the Fire Breather blew out a heart-shaped flame from his lips. Anella the Contortionist—her float was situated right in front of Esmeralda’s stolen birdcage—was standing on top the rotating carousel and twisting her body into shapes that shouldn’t be legal. Clearly, these acts were putting on their best shows. They were in the Running as well and understood the stakes.
But none understood them better than Esmeralda.
She had to get the audience to love her. To force all the attention onto her so Ángel would see how she shined.
Ignacio was trying to say something to her, but she paid himlittle mind. She couldn’t let Anella the pretzel one-up her. But no one was calling Esmeralda’s stage name. No one knew who she was.
That simply wouldn’t do.
She clambered onto her feet, the swing only slightly wobbling because Ignacio was holding it steady.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone exasperated per usual.
