“Señor Blanco,” the swan scoffed. “What a horrible thing to say.”
The man innocently shrugged his many appendages. “Oh, Doña Mariposa, you know how these challenges go. Half the fun is watching these poor little ragamuffins work themselves to death to impress the ringmaster.” He gestured toward the unicorn. “Francisco here bet seven gold coins that the new main act wouldretirewithin a month.”
Why did he emphasizeretirelike that?Ignacio wondered. As if the word had a different meaning altogether.
“Just a month, though?” the swan queried. “That seems so short.”
The unicorn waved her off with a hoof. “During each Running, our performers grow bolder…or should I say more desperate. With the threat of war looming over their heads, they need the carnival and all its spoils more than ever. They’re willing to take greater risks to earn our Ángel’s praise. Whoever is chosen to be the next main act must be truly tantalizing if they want to keep us coming back for more. Hell, they’ll probably saw off their own limbs to keep from having to retire.”
“What about Melanie the Marionette?” the octopus asked. “Sure, her act was risky and all, flying in the air like that, but it wasn’t jaw-dropping by any means.”
“And where is she now? Hmm? She was put out to pasture in the blink of an eye. She went from a star to a nobody,” the unicorn said. “Which is fine by me because now I get to cast my bet on someone new.”
Ignacio’s fingers snapped the feathers he was clutching. These bastards were gambling on the performers’ demise.
These awful, no-good fiends were so pompous. So arrogant. So unfeeling. And judging from their use of honorifics and extravagant, complexly stitched attires, they were filthy rich. Most likely part of the king’s own court come to escape the false piety they exuded across the kingdom and show their true selves behind their masks.
Ignacio ducked his head a bit lower. He doubted it, but one might recognize him as the comandante’s son, like the jailer who had tried to take him to the military barracks.
Gasps of awe bubbled around him as they moved from the open air of the carnival into a strange sort of corridor. The entrance to the Big Top was large and arching. The voices and footfalls bounced around like an echo chamber. When Ignacio let his gaze roam upward like the rest of the crowd, he gawked.
A thousand pairs of eyes were blinking down at him. He squinted. They weren’t eyes at all, but hundreds and hundreds of smooth black stones reflecting the spectators’ faces back at them. There was something peculiar about their reflections, though. Something that made everyone appear a bit different than what they really were.
Ignacio caught his own reflection. He seemed…better. For lack of a proper word. He appeared as a man who moved around with confidence. Like a man who never made mistakes. Or failed anyone. He wished he could be this version of himself. If he were perfect, perhaps his father might have loved him more. Perhaps Esmeralda would never have left him. Perhaps those farmers would still be breathing. What Esmeralda had said to him inside her wagon came to mind. Their deaths weren’t his fault. He couldn’t have saved them. Had he openly allied himself with Dos Palos, he’d surely be dead too. Maybe he could accept Esmeralda’s words one day.Afterhis father and the king were dealt with.
The jazz music, which was always playing in the background, roared to an unignorable volume. People gasped and cheered. As the patrons funneled into the main hub of the tent, he could see why. The Big Top was alive.
Clowns on stilts walked by throwing handfuls of confettiin the air. Massive elephants and pearl-white ponies pulled the floats from the parade. They marched around the tent in a wide circle, the performers waving and blowing kisses to the audience. There was a large center ring, flanked by two slightly smaller rings on either side. Inside each ring, people in jewel-toned dresses twirled in rhythmic unison. A medley of colors swept over the space from the glowing bulbs dangling overhead. Massive mirrors made from the same black stone that had winked down at him within the entrance tunnel hung from the tent walls and rafters. Inside the mirrors stood the ringmaster himself, with his curled mustache and top hat, waving and singing “The Tale of the Valerio Brothers.”
With the guests headed to their seats, Ignacio could finally move more freely. He started toward the exit door flaps, which were on the other side of a row of bleachers, but he paused when the lights dimmed and the music lowered to a beating thrum.
A single spotlight sent a direct beam to the center ring. There was a quick explosion of sparkling dust and then the ringmaster appeared. Standing proudly on a rounded platform, his arms were spread wide. His teeth glinted as he turned in a slow circle. His purple coat winked with sequins.
Ignacio instinctively looked around for Estefan the ostrich, but he was noticeably not part of the show.
The audience stood and cheered, electrified.
“Fans, friends, and fiends!” the ringmaster roared. “Welcome to the most fantastical, most sensational”—people in the stands shouted the words along with him, including the woman in the swan costume and her companions, now sittingin a coveted box, who were yelling the loudest—“most deliciously delinquent, most wonderous, most death-defying, most enchanting show!”
People stomped their feet, creating a drumroll with their boots and heels.
The ringmaster’s gaze drifted upward as he soaked up their praise. He took off his top hat and shouted, “Welcome to Carnival Fantástico!”
The audience whistled and clapped and hollered. Exhilaration was so thick in the air, Ignacio almost got caught up in it himself. But he pushed his legs to move. He needed to find the tailor and see what was in that letter.
Something in one of the mirrors hanging near the exit caught his attention and he halted. A face that was neither human nor beast stared at him hungrily. Its eyes glowed. Ignacio blinked, horrified. But in the next second, the face was gone.
Unease filled his belly. He stepped close to the oval mirror, but the only thing he saw was his own haunted reflection.
“As you may know, I am on the hunt for a new main act since our beloved showstopper Melanie the Marionette hung up her strings. During the welcome parade, you saw many of the amazing performers who are in the Running.” The ringmaster put his hand to his ear. “Scream out your favorite act so far.”
Thousands of voices barked out their darlings.
“Nicola the Escape Artist!”
“The Flying Córdovas!”
“Paco the Fire Breather!”
