Esmeralda sat on the steps of her wagon listening to the sounds of the Big Top as she counted her tips. She’d never earned so much before. She’d stolen that much, sure. But not earned it. Though, she wasn’t certain if scamming people by telling them false fortunes truly counted.
None of that mattered now. If she didn’t get that top spot, she’d never earn enough dough to purchase passage out of the country in her two months left with the carnival anyway. Ángel had taken her safety net when he found her box of snagged goods. And General Keara was without a doubt going to tell the comandante she was here, especially since Esmeralda hadn’t been particularly helpful.
What else was she supposed to do? Rat Ignacio out to the general?
Never.
Even thieves had a code.
Her palms started to sweat. If the ringmaster found herunworthy, he might very well hand them both over to Comandante Olivera himself. She wouldn’t let that happen.
“I can’t believe he left the Blackbirds,” she murmured. “He turned his back on the man he practically worshiped.” To be fair, she had worshiped the comandante just as much when she was younger. Perhaps more.
From the age of ten until she was sixteen, Esmeralda had watched Comandante Olivera with admiration in her eyes. He was so large and commanding. He intimidated everyone. His presence was enamoring. No one dared say no to the man. They would do whatever it took to please him. He was respected. Feared. Honored. Esmeralda had wanted to be like him because she thought that no one would ever brush her off or push her away again if she was that powerful.
Until one day she overheard him berating Ignacio for some insignificant mistake. Her hackles rose. No one should ever speak to anyone in such a manner, certainly not their child. Her resentment for the comandante grew. And when she decoded one of his missives to the front lines, she realized how terrible the man truly was. He’d ordered his Blackbirds to destroy everything in their wake. He told them to leave no home, school, or shop in one piece until they found their target. She had assumed the target meant enemy leaders, but now she wondered if it was whatever General Keara put in those satchels.
She had tried to tell Ignacio his father was a warmonger the morning she learned he was enlisted into the Blackbirds. But he refused to listen. He refused to see his father in a dark light.
At leastnowhe knew the truth, and he was trying to do something about it.
That didn’t mean she could ever forgive him for leaving her behind, though.
“Damn you, Pigeon,” she whispered.
She shoved off the steps of her wagon and started to walk, stuffing her tips into her coin purse before concealing it amongst her curls.
Esmeralda nodded at a worker filling up balloons for a game. Preparing for the influx of new customers to come as soon as the main show ended. Nearly everyone was inside the Big Top. Their applause andoohsandaahstumbled out of the tent and echoed in the air like a haunting fog. The sounds taunted Esmeralda. They whispered,You aren’t good enough to be in here with us. It was clear she hadn’t proved herself to the ringmaster enough or else he would have invited her to perform.
A scream tore through the sky. Esmeralda’s head snapped toward the Big Top. She waited for the applause. For laughter.
But more horrified screams rang out.
Knowing the Sánchez sisters would be performing, she rantoward the tent.
She kept her eyes forward as she bolted through the arch of a thousand mirrors. She hated the things. Hated how it felt like a million eyes were crawling on her skin like spiders. She skidded to a halt as she met a wall of animals, performers, and carnival hands whispering and sobbing into each other’s arms before the side ring.
“What happened, Jade?” she asked the manager of the menagerie.
Jade’s green eyes met Esmeralda’s. She shook her head. “I…I’m sorry, Paloma.”
“For what?”
“There…there was an accident. Camila, she…”
Esmeralda shoved her way through the onlookers. She pushed them hard, with little care for manners. She needed to see Camila.Now.
She stumbled through a tight opening and gasped. Her hands clamped over her mouth to seal in her shocked cry. Camila writhed in pain on the sawdust-covered floor. The bottom halves of her legs were buried under a pile of the marble slabs she and Pilar used during their act.
But where was Pilar?
Ignacio, Gabriel, and two other carnival hands were frantically digging through the rubble. A sequined slipper lay upside down near Ignacio’s knee.
“No,” Esmeralda whispered.
She dashed forward and fell beside a thrashing Camila. She reached for Camila’s hand but noticed it was bent at an awfully wrong angle.
“Where’s my sister?!” Camila sobbed. “Where’s Pilar?!”
