Ignacio’s pulse raced harder than before. First Anella the Contortionist nearly met her end by suffocation. And now the Sánchezes had been pummeled. He thought of what those people said in line. Of the bets they were casting.
He couldn’t help but step closer to Esmeralda. If something or someone so much as thought they could harm her, they would have to go through him first.
“We should leave this very minute,” the healer said. “We can pack up everything and be out of here within the hour.”
The ringmaster watched Pilar. His gaze roamed over her battered body so unhurriedly, Ignacio nearly throttled him. They needed to move. To get her to a physician before it was too late. Yet Veracruz stood there like he was waiting for Pilar’s breathing to slow.
Esmeralda must have noticed too because she rushed forward and took the ringmaster’s arm. “Ángel, please,” she said.
Heat seared through Ignacio at the intimacy of the touch.
The ringmaster gazed down at her almost lovingly. Ignacio clenched his fists so hard his knuckles popped. Veracruz’s eyes flicked to him before returning to Esmeralda. He half smirked.
“You are right, darling.” He patted her arm. “As soon as the Big Top performances are over, we will pack up and go.”
“You must be joking,” Ignacio said.
“I never joke about such matters. You should all know by now that the show must always go on.” Once again, his gaze flicked to the mirror. “Come, let us leave the sisters here with the healer. The final act is readying to begin.”
Ignacio planted his feet. He wouldn’t leave the girls. He didn’t know exactly why, but he couldn’t trust they’d be okay.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay with them,” Gabriel said to the healer.
He must be sensing the same thing Ignacio was. Sensing the wrongness permeating the air.
They looked to Veracruz for approval.
The ringmaster’s jaw muscles flexed before he flashed his signature grin. “But of course. You’re a good friend.” He faced Ignacio. “Why don’t you find some extra hands and begin discreetly packing up the third ring attractions? No one will worry much over those.” He motioned for Esmeralda. “Follow me, love. I want you to take notes on how to thrill the crowd.”
He placed his hand on the small of Esmeralda’s back and urged her toward the exit. Ignacio saw her shoulders stiffen. Hestarted forward but stopped himself. If she said nothing to the ringmaster, who was he to intervene? She’d probably scoff at him anyway.
Veracruz looked over his shoulder and found Ignacio’s gaze. He winked before he and Esmeralda disappeared into the shadows. Through his nostrils, Ignacio breathed out the boiling rage filling his lungs.
It had taken much longer for them to tear down the carnival and pack everything onto the train than Ignacio liked. The moment the train started moving, he dashed out of his shared bunk. Something was terribly wrong with this carnival. He had to figure out what. And he was going to start by seeing what exactly was in those mirrors. He kept thinking about “The Tale of the Valerio Brothers.” When the ringmaster recited the ballad, he spoke of a god of smoke and mirrors. Perhaps he wasn’t speaking in riddles as Ignacio first thought but, unbelievably, in truths.
Ignacio had heard a tale similar to the Valerio brothers’ before, but he couldn’t remember how or when. And it was driving him mad.
With a grunt, he shoved open the rear boxcar door. Wind whipped across his skin. His eyes watered from the cold as train tracks whizzed beneath his feet. He slid the door shut and hopped onto the next wagon. He would do this until he made it to the boxcars that held the Big Top materials.
He passed through the menagerie car and opened the next door.
Ignacio halted.
Esmeralda lay in a tight ball on a small balcony welded onto the boxcar being tugged behind the one he was on. The healer’s sign bumped against the metal door above her as the tracks sped by below.
With his footfall shielded by the rattling groans of the train, he jumped across the gap between cars and landed beside her. He shivered. It was a wonder she could sleep with the windchill so biting.
He couldn’t leave her here. It wasn’t safe, for one, but also, she’d freeze.
Kneeling, he scooped her up. He paused when her mass of curls fell away from her face. The skin around her eyes was swollen. She had been crying.
There had only been two times he’d seen her shed tears. The day he told her he had been enlisted into the Blackbirds was the most recent. The first time had been one summer night when they were fifteen. They lay under the stars on his roof. He told her about his mother and how the loss of her left a hollow cave in his chest.
Until he met Dovie.
That night, she had wiped the tears from his cheeks while her own eyes filled with them. Then she had scooted closer to him, offering him her warmth.
“I often talk to myself,” she had said. “Keeps all the sad thoughts away.”
