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“Indeed. Which is why I’ll keep you there, the energy is a perfect appetizer,” The Ringmaster’s smile turns cold, “but end it. Now.”
“No,” the word comes out before I can stop it. I’ve been dealing with this for decades, but I won’t … I can’t let him go completely.
“No?” He laughs. “Then I’ll return him to the Patrons when we leave here. They still speak of him even though he was only there three years, so many years ago, they feel like they might have been robbed because of the deal.” He stands up. “End it enough that he doesn’t even care to be around you, or I’ll give him back to them, and this time, I won’t let you take his place.”
“But the Big Top?” I say it almost as a plea, because those five days seem like freedom.
“You’ll no longer be required except on the final night. I want you as far from him as possible.”
That night, when he was already upset … I let him think I was cold, callous even. That I didn’t care what our jobs here were. That I was the monster I am. I still see his face in my nightmares, the way his mossy eyes shifted to hurt.
“Fuck you, Tobias.”
He had walked away, and I let him go. For his safety.
* * *
“The Ringmaster is changing her routine,” Kenan says suddenly beside me, pulling me away from the memories.
“That wasn’t the plan,” I straighten, as she’s almost to the stage now.
“Since when does he stick to plans?” He runs a hand through his dark hair, now out of its bun. Was it down because of Rosie? I bite back the jealousy that surges through me. Then I think better of it. No, he pulled it down for a different reason.
“You care about her,” I observe as he watches the crowd start to cheer for her.
He doesn’t answer, but I can see it in his face. I’ve known since last night, the way he went to her – the way he held her. The way he tried to help her escape.
Emerson’s arrival has changed something, I can feel it in the air, in the way The Carnival itself breathes. Because she’s not only caught his attention … but mine as well.
Chapter 16
The crowd erupts in applause around me as I step onto the stage. My heart thunders so loudly I can feel it in my ears, and the spotlight momentarily blinds me. The aerial hoop hangs above me, suspended and waiting. I feel frozen, my feet heavy and unsure. I have lost my mind. It’s official. I can’t do this.
Then the music starts — a slow hypnotic beat that vibrates through the floor and up into my bones.
“Make the audience see what you want them to,” Tobias’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He’s not beside me, but it’s the same voice as last night that told me to run. Illusionist indeed. So, he gave Kenan grief for giving me the knife, but didn’t say he told me to run – he was there.
I walk to the silver hoop, each step more confident than the last. The sound of the crowd fades as I grasp the cool metal ring. With one fluid emotion, I pull myself up and hook my leg around the hoop, lifting myself higher. The music swells and I start to spin. I extend one leg out in a graceful line, and the lace of my bodysuit catches the light. I extend my legs into a split as the hoop continues to spin before arching backwards and hanging just by hands. The crowd gasps as I flip my body in a graceful roll that has me upside down, the world now inverted.
The music pulses faster now, and so do I. Each movement flows into the next. I catch glimpses of Tobias at the edge of the stage, his painted gaze never leaving mine — hungry, prideful. Something about his gaze fuels me, pushes me to reach higher, spin faster, stretch my limbs into positions I’ve never even thought of.
The world spins around me, lights blurring into streaks of color as I lose myself to it all. My arm burns from the brand, and my muscles ache, but I continue on.
The Ringmaster’s voice suddenly cuts through the music. “Such a marvelous beauty is she not?”
I continue my routine, they haven’t yet lowered it for me to dismount. I transition into a backbend within the hoop. Thank you Evelyn for those gymnastic lessons.
“But tonight,” The Ringmaster continues, “we have a special treat. A collaboration of talent that will leave you breathless.”
What the fuck? No one mentioned a “collaboration”.
My rhythm falters slightly as I twist to look around, and then my breathing stops altogether as the crowd screams again.
“Kenan, The Master of Knives,” The Ringmaster’s voice booms around me.
The spotlight shifts, and there stands Kenan at the edge of the stage. I squint to see him better as I slow my spin. This wasn’t planned- what is he doing? His skull mask is in place, but the small wrinkle near his eye tells me he’s smirking — no, it’s more than that. The skull mask isn’t the only mask he’s wearing; this is the performer in front of me. His torso gleams with oil that highlights every defined muscle. He flips his dagger in his hand, handle to blade and back again. “I’m lowering the ring,” he yells up at me.
I’m still suspended fifteen feet above the stage, uncertain what’s happening. Kenan looks up at me, and his eyes lock with mine as he signals for the stage crew to lower me. The ring descends slowly, my thighs and palms keeping me in place.
