by D. N. Hoxa
And when we were finally through the first line of the crowd, I saw what she meant.
The man and the woman standing on a stage-like circle made of silver and gold were dressed in a way I’d never seen anybody dressed here before. He had black trousers and a black jacket on, but his jacket extended down to his knees in the front, and it had bright pink stripes on it, and big golden buttons. His white shirt was tied into a huge ribbon under his chin, and his black hat was like a ten-inch cylinder over his head.
The woman’s hat was a bit shorter, and it stayed put over the two buns she’d tied to the sides of her head. Her blue eyes were startling, and her dress looked more like an undergarment, or maybe three dresses worn together, one over the other. Neither of them smiled at the many faces that were watching them in awe as they raised up their hands and moved their cards, which were all kinds of shapes.
“Pick one,” the woman said to another from the crowd, and suddenly cards of all kinds and numbers suspended on air right in front of the woman’s face.
“I did!” she said excitedly.
The performer moved her hands together, and the cards started to fly up and down and all around her, going between her legs and coming up over her head.
“Pick one,” said the man to the crowd, to a man standing two feet away from us. He eagerly picked, too, and the show went on. The cards flew while the performers guided them with their hands, up in the air so high we lost sight of them, before they came back down and almost hit the ground. It was fascinating to watch. So much magic hung in the air, and even though there were at least fifty cards, the performers never lost focus. Not one of them slipped or fell out of line. It was like the cards were alive, and they kept one after the other in perfect harmony, chasing the movements of the performer’s hands.
Before the show was over, I was dragged back by Charlotte and into the crowd of people.
“There’s a lot to see still,” she reminded me. “We don’t have too much time.”
A few feet away from the stage of the card performers were men and women, dressed closer to how we dressed in Gaena, with long gowns and crisp suits. Except these eight wore white masks over their faces, and they danced with each other in pairs to the melody of a flute. The man who played it sat behind them, right under the torches, and he kept his eyes shut tightly while the people with the masks danced. It was mesmerizing to watch. Their motions were fluid, their feet didn’t touch the ground at all. They slid on air and turned and fell and came back up in seconds, and it was all perfectly orchestrated. The people who watched them were in awe, including me.
Only after Charlotte dragged me back a second time, and an elbow buried on my back by accident, did I realize that Hiss wasn’t on me anymore. He’d probably gone to do his own exploring away from the crowd that was going to suffocate me soon. There were too many people, too little space, and I was nervous. It would only take one person to recognize me.
But as Charlotte pushed us through, I watched the faces pass me by and I realized that nobody looked at me. There was so much wonder going on all around us that nobody was interested in me.
Once I knew that, I was able to relax a bit. Relax and enjoy the countless performers that had set their spaces and stages all around. So much to see.
I saw the floating ribbons even before Charlotte managed to get us in the front line. We were forced to stay far away from these performers by thick, heavy-looking dividers made out of metal—and with reason. There were three women out there, dressed in skintight white bodysuits that glittered when the light from the torches fell on them. The seven ribbons were made out of satin, each a different color, and they unfolded from the ground and moved up in the air, much like Hiss did. To the sides were two men, with their arms raised and their eyes closed, and they seemingly controlled the ribbons while the three women jumped on them. It was impossible not to feel like my heart would fall to my heels any second, every time one of them jumped and a ribbon rushed to her hands. She would grab it, and twist and turn in the air, wrap and unwrap herself all over while the ribbon held her up, before she would jump again.
Glitter everywhere. I kept holding my breath, expecting one of the dancers to hit the ground, but they never did. They just jumped ribbon after moving ribbon, and they moved like ghosts, like their bodies didn’t have a single bone in them. I couldn’t even hear the music they danced to from the unreasonable fear that had gripped me. I kept expecting them to fall, and even my magic was at the ready, on the tips of my fingers, about to jump to their aid as soon as they hit the ground.
This time, I was the one to grab Charlotte by the hand and pull her back into the crowd. I couldn’t take it. They were too high, and those ribbons looked too fragile to me to hold all their weight, even though they did.
“Did you see that?” Charlotte yelled in my ear, making it whistle. “I swear, they hypnotized me!”
“It was beautiful. And scary,” I admitted. “What more is there to see?”
“Follow me,” she said and gladly used her elbows to make way for us to go through the crowd.
We passed three large stands that served food and drinks for the people. Even though I was sweating from head to toe, and thirsty, I didn’t think I had it in me to wait in that line, so I skipped it. I could drink something when we were back at Julie’s.
Soon, I forgot all about it as Charlotte led me to see every performer of the Aderian Circus.
Two men were fighting and dancing at the same time, in a way I’d never seen before. They literally didn’t stop moving from one side to the other for a single second. They hit each other, and I felt their pain all the way to my bones, but they were so used to it, their expressions never changed in the least.
Then, there was the group performing tricks with all kinds of animals. They had monkeys and three rabbits that I could see, and a lot of familiars, too. They were all dressed in white clothes with colorful dots all over, and they all had a bell attached to the collars around their necks. When they moved, they created a melody as they jumped and danced in the tunnel and circles the performers had set up for them.
After them was a man sitting cross-legged inside a circle made of fire. He looked up at the sky before he brought both his hands to his lips and kissed his fingers. When he moved them away, fire spit out of his open mouth, and it shot out at the sky incredibly fast. The crowd went wild as it returned with the same speed, then circled around the hands of the performer. He was bare chested, and we could all see the sweat glistening on his muscled chest, but he didn’t mind. The fire didn’t cause him any pain. It obeyed his every command. When it first changed shape, it became a horse about fifteen inches tall, and it galloped in the air all around the performer a few times, before it turned into a snake. It looked almost exactly like Hiss. It, too, used the air as if it were solid ground and slithered around and opened its fiery jaw at the wide-eyed audience. I had never known fire could be manipulated at this level before. The performer, whatever kind he was, was definitely a Prime.
Before long, I had no idea which way we’d come or where we were going. People, laughter, chatter, music—it was everywhere. And it was getting really difficult to breathe.
The Aderian Circus was a true wonder, but I couldn’t enjoy half of it because of the crowd. I was ready to call it a night, and I pulled Charlotte back to tell her so, when she screamed.
“It’s Daredevil!”
I didn’t know who Daredevil was, but when she shot into the crowd and disappeared from my view within two seconds, I had no choice but to follow. I soon learned that Charlotte’s method of using her elbows to part the crowd was functional, and after I pushed away the first few people, I stopped saying sorry, too. I saw Charlotte’s wild curls before I took in the huge stage she was looking at. It felt like hours until I reached her, and I was going to tell her not to do that again, but then the speakers blew up and a man’s voice took over the night sky.
“New Orleans Shade—welcome to the Aderian Circus! Are you e
ntertained?!”
It was hard to keep my hands from coming up to my ears. The man was on the stage holding a microphone in his hand. He wore one of those strange suits with some pieces of it longer than others, but he wasn’t there to perform. He smiled brightly when the crowd screamed and threw their hands up, as if trying to reach him. But we couldn’t. Metal dividers were set all around the huge oval-shaped stage—the strangest stage I’d ever seen.
“That’s enough, ladies and gentlemen,” the man continued, and the crowd fell silent almost at the same time. “It is now time for the main show of the Circus. Are you ready for Daredevil?”
This time, I couldn’t help covering my ears. The crowd of people, at least most of them, knew exactly who Daredevil was.
“Let’s give him a warm welcome, everyone!” the man called, stepping back with his arms raised to his sides, his chin up and that sneaky smile on his face.
It was a while before the crowd settled down again. The music began—this time only drums—in a rhythm that made you think something big and dangerous was about to happen.
To the left of the oval stage, there was a structure with two metal posts and three thin ropes attached to them. In front of them was a thick wooden pillar, and the rope that extended from it and to the other side of the stage was a bit thicker, too. On the other side, a circle made out of fire hung in the air, a few feet over the stage, and behind it, something big and covered in a black cloth took up most of the space.
The neighing began. I hadn’t heard or seen a horse ever since I’d left Gaena. My heartbeat tripled instantly as the horse came into the light. He was big and completely black, his mane shining like it had been just groomed. He continued to walk slowly all around the tightrope, to the edges of the stage.
The people were stunned by his beauty. After the first round, he began to pick up speed. He went fast and faster, and by the time he was galloping, the crowd was cheering again. I didn’t see it coming. My eyes were on the horse as it ran on the other side of the stage from where we were, and then he jumped on the horse’s back like he’d been hanging in the air right over the saddle.
The man was easily twice my size. His head was full of green hair. He wore a leather vest, and brown leather pants as he rode on the horse’s back, a small smile on his face. He didn’t look at the audience that couldn’t stop screaming, including Charlotte. And when the horse picked up speed once again, he jumped.
He jumped to his feet on the horse’s back. His arms were spread wide on each side, and he waited for the horse to complete his seventh run around the stage before he jumped again.
He looked to be at least two hundred pounds, but the way he moved said he weighed less than a feather. He jumped impossibly high, spun around in the air once, and then landed with his feet atop the tightrope that went through the middle of the stage.
The entire audience held their breaths—including me. He didn’t even waver. His balance was impeccable, and when he started walking on the rope, you’d think he was walking on solid ground. He carried himself gracefully, with such ease, his wide shoulders moving from one side to the other in perfect rhythm, until he reached the middle of the stage. The audience had begun whispering and cheering again, but when he looked at them, they all screamed. His eyes were as green as his hair. His smile was as mischievous as a kid’s who was about to get in trouble.
Then he moved. His arms wrapped around himself, and I didn’t see him reach for anything, but when he raised his hands again, they weren’t empty. The blades of eight small knives were between his fingers, the handles peeking out like enormous rings. Something hissed all around the stage. The crowd fell silent again, a second before small plates as big as my palms began to shoot into the air from all sides.
The performer held perfectly still for three long seconds, knives in hands, his smile never wavering. When he jumped, he turned to the side and spun around horizontally. He threw all his knives at the same time, and they somehow spread all around him, lightning fast. They all hit their targets—the eight plates that were already descending toward the stage. They burst into a million tiny pieces at the same time and hit the stage like a hailstorm.
The audience cheered louder than before. The performer’s smile grew, and I found myself smiling, too—but he wasn’t done.
Reaching behind his back, he pulled out two of his swords and continued to walk on the tightrope to the other side of the stage. People came at him, armed with their own swords, from all sides. They hopped on the stage and charged him, swords raised. There were seven of them, and only one performer, and for a moment there, I honestly believed that it was all real.
Impossible not to. The performer jumped and spun and twisted on his tightrope as he held off the attackers. Blood spilled all around every time his sword sunk into flesh. I felt the pain of the attackers, but I was so engrossed in the show, I didn’t even notice the desire of my magic to take it. I just focused on the performer wielding his swords like a master swordsman and keeping his attackers at bay while he did all kinds of stunts on the tightrope.
The crowd went wild. The more blood he spilled, the more they cheered. He felt pain, too—on his heels and legs for the most part, but none of the attackers managed to cut him. I don’t know if it was just for show, but they really looked like they were trying to cut him off that rope.
None of them managed.
Eventually, he was near the end of the rope. He threw his swords to the sides, and the attackers stopped charging him. He ran the two steps to the end of the rope and jumped toward the circle of fire hanging in the air. His hands wrapped around the top. His pain shot out to me, more intense than before. The fire burned the skin of his palms, but he didn’t even flinch. He just pushed himself back to gain momentum and went right through the circle of fire.
His pain didn’t stop even when he disappeared from our view. I felt it—he was right there still, inside the barrel on the other side of the stage that had been covered in black fabric until now.
“Are you ready?!” the voice of the host shot from the speakers, making me jump. The crowd screamed once more. I held my breath, even though I had no idea what was about to happen.
The sound of the explosion shook me to my core. For a second, I thought I was witnessing the Guild building collapsing under the spell of the necromancer siblings all over again. But then the performer shot in the air.
I only recognized him by his green hair. His head was lowered, and his arms were crossed in front of his chest. He flew up and spun around in the air, flying to the other side of the stage again. I wanted to close my eyes—he was moving way too fast! He was going to hit something soon, and he wasn’t going to survive a crashed skull.
But half a second before he reached the other end, his arms spread up over his head. He grabbed one of the three ropes attached to the metal posts, and his legs moved up to the sky. The pain in his hands was incredible—they were still burned badly, but he’d put leather gloves on. It lessened the impact, but it was still too much for his scorched flesh and skin.
He spun around another five times on the thin ropes before his body slowed down enough for him to jump back on the tightrope below.
The audience couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t decide whether to be angry that someone would willingly put themselves in that kind of danger for no reason at all or impressed that he’d actually survived and only his hands were hurting.
The horse came out again, as if tearing from the darkness behind the stage, and the performer jumped on his back right away. He stood perfectly straight atop the horse’s back while he walked slowly around the stage. The people behind me were pushing me hard enough to knock the breath out of me, trying to get closer to the stage, to the performer.
“Did you see that? Did you see that, Elo?!” Charlotte kept shouting, clapping her hands, her glossy eyes turned toward the stage.
“We need to leave, Charlotte,” I said, but I didn’t think she heard me over the screaming crowd. I grabbed he
r by the hand and pulled her as hard as I could. It was over now; the show was done. The people were impatient to get closer to the stage, so it was a while before I managed to breathe properly.
As much fun and as anxious as that show had made me feel, I was never going into a crowd like that again.
Chapter 11
Chapter
* * *
Charlotte insisted we go all around the Circus one more time, just to make sure we’d seen every performer and every trick they had to show. I wanted to say no, and I was terrified that Julie would find out about it and hold me responsible, but one look at her hopeful eyes and I caved.
It was always the same with my brother Elid. Any time he wanted something, all he had to do was give me a look like that. I could never resist it. I wanted him to have everything he wanted. My heart ached, even now, as I remembered. It wept when my mind tried to come up with what he was doing in those moments, in Gaena. Was he okay? Was he thinking of me?
Did he ever think of me like I thought of him?
“You’re elf.”
The voice was deep, strong, and it caught me completely off guard. I froze next to Charlotte, who couldn’t get enough of watching the dancers jump from one floating ribbon to the other in perfect sync.
I spun around, my hands already reaching behind me for my knives, when I saw the face of the man who walked on a tightrope, jumped through fire, and flew across the stage, just for show.
He had a large jacket with a hoodie on that covered half his face, much like Julie’s shawl did for me. But he was standing right behind me, so I saw his face with clarity. Impossible to miss the resemblance to the man they called Daredevil.
And from so close up, it was impossible to miss the feel of his magic, too.
He was fae.
Shivers broke down my back. My fingers wrapped around the handles of my knives, but I wouldn’t really need those. I could put this man to sleep easily, before he could make his first move.
