“It wasn’t you?” Ignacio asked.
“I want to keep Comandante Oliveraoutof my carnival. I certainly wouldn’t invite him in.”
Veracruz stood suddenly. Ignacio readied himself for whatever punishment might come his way. He had lied to the ringmaster that day on the caboose. He’d told him he was there for Esmeralda, but that wasn’t the only reason.
Fortunately, no punishment came.
Veracruz simply took off his top hat and scratched at his head.
“You aren’t mad that I lied to you?” If Ignacio had gone behind his father’s back like he had done with the ringmaster and Father found out, the man might have backhanded Ignacio right then and there. Instead of a wallop, the ringmaster simply shrugged and put his hat back on.
“Look, you seem like a smart kid. And I believe you are right. Your father is up to something. Perhaps whoever is communicating with him recognizes that. But I want to understand why they would want him to come here.”
“That’s what I’d like to figure out too.”
“It’s settled, then.” Veracruz patted Ignacio on the shoulder and started to walk away. “When you find the answers we both seek, please be sure to let me know.”
“That’s it?” Ignacio called after him.
The ringmaster twirled around and offered a bow. “That’sit.”
The music grew louder. The sun had finally disappeared, and the carnival was ready to rise from its slumber.
“I best get ready for the show.” Veracruz flicked his fingers, and the letter Esmeralda wrote to Ignacio years ago fluttered toward him. Ignacio caught it. He eyed the forever gleaming words scrawled on the page in her messy handwriting. Ignacio called after him. “What about this ink?”
“The ink?” the ringmaster questioned.
“Yes. The ink used to invite my father here. It’s the same ink Esmeralda wrote this letter with. The same used to createthe posters and her fortune teller cards.” And the glue that nearly killed Anella had that same shimmering gleam. “Where is theink?”
Veracruz was already halfway down the alley, walking straight for the Big Top. “We’ll have time to talk again once my guests depart. In the meantime, enjoy yourself.” He waved. “Thanks for speaking so freely with me,Ignacio. I have a good feeling aboutyou.”
Ignacio’s eyes narrowed as the ringmaster strolled away. Something was off about that man. He was too calm, too easygoing. Anella had nearly died. Ignacio had just told him someone in his carnival was communicating with the commander of the king’s army, despite his rules. Yet, the man only worried about his show.
Either way, Ignacio had work of his own to do. He ran to the bunk boxcar meant for carnival hands that he’d been assigned to. There, he transcribed his chat with the ringmaster so he wouldn’t forget. He also wrote down what he remembered from “The Tale of the Valerio Brothers” because there was something eerily familiar to him about the story. When he was satisfied, he slipped the papers and the letter from Esmeralda under his stiff mattress, then smoothed the worn sheets and tucked them tight at each corner. He had never left a bed untidy since he was four years of age.
By the time he was finished, he was half starved, and the carnival gates had been opened for guests. He left his shared boxcar in search of something to eat. He rounded the first bend near the ticket booth before coming to an abrupt stop. His heartthundered faster than the bouncing beat romping around the fair. There, in her Blackbird black-and-silver uniform, stood General Keara, his father’s right hand. The tailor virtuoso bowed as he escorted her into his costume tent. General Keara glanced over her shoulder.
Ignacio dove into the only hiding space he could find, a wooden coffin made for sawing performers in half. His jaw dropped when he lowered his eyes. His body was invisible from his torso to his toes. He really hated the magic inside this place.
When he peeked out toward the tailor’s tent, Keara was gone. A few moments later, the tall and muscular form of the general sauntered out. Her uniform was hidden beneath a burnt-orange cape. She now sported a fox mask, clawed gloves, and a swishing tail.
She promenaded like the fox she dressed as. She was heading directly toward a purple wagon labeledLa Paloma Blanca: Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.
Chapter 21
Esmeralda
“I can’t believe how many people are in line to see you,” Gabriel said as he pressed an eye to the tiny cutout in the wagon wall.
“Ican,” Esmeralda said. “I was superb out there.”
Gabriel cleared his throat.
“With your and Camila’s help, of course. Thanks for making me beautiful. Well, even more beautiful than I already am.”
“Always so humble.” Gabriel sealed the hole shut with a cork and turned around. “The tension between you and that godlike, dream of a man didn’t hurt. The crowd loved you two together.”
Esmeralda harrumphed. “The only person who is godlike in this carnival is the tailor.”
