by Ioana Visan
Broken People:
The Nightingale Circus
IOANA VISAN
Copyright © 2014 Ioana Visan
All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Broken People:
The Nightingale Circus
Copyright © 2014 by Ioana Visan
All rights reserved.
Cover Art by Cristina Birtea
http://adorael.deviantart.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
First eBook Edition: December 2014
Don’t be shy and come inside! The Nightingale is waiting to take flight!
Welcome to The Nightingale Circus! Listen to the singer with an enchanting voice. Watch the knife throwers who are also prosthetic builders. Here is a telecharger on the run and a ballerina with no lungs. There is a broken pole dancer and an Asian bot. You’ll be amazed by a regular girl who becomes exquisite and frightening at the same time.
They’re better known as the famous Nightingale, the Blade Masters, the Magician, the Swan, the Firebird, the Rocket Girl, and the Golden Lady.
They are all waiting to tell you their story about how they came to the circus and why they stayed.
This is a companion short story collection to Broken People.
Table of Contents
The Nightingale
The Blade Masters
The Magician
The Swan
The Firebird
The Rocket Girl
The Golden Lady
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Books by Ioana Visan
The Nightingale
Each morning, Cielo faced the new day with dread. Would they come for her today? Days passed, and the circus moved to another town, but she never forgot about the danger she was in, even if she sometimes foolishly dared to hope. After all, some people still considered her a child, though she had stopped being one a long time ago. After the first abduction.
She went on with her day, doing the morning chores, only to become completely occupied in the afternoon when the fair opened. In the evening, the circus came to life, and she got to sing and feel powerful for a couple of hours until the lights went off and the night surrounded her. She didn’t fear the darkness; she feared the voices echoing in the night when the entire circus slept. And then, if she were lucky, another day came.
“Cielo!” Rake’s voice startled her, bringing her back to the present. “They need you at the candy apple stand!”
She nodded at the tall knife thrower and dashed in the direction of the stand. She didn’t mind helping, and she liked candy apples. Rake probably knew that and had sent her there on purpose, so she turned and waved back, granting him the smile he was lacking.
Selling things was easy, though a little mind numbing. She needed something more demanding to keep her thoughts occupied. Whenever the line was slow, she studied the faces of strangers, wondering about their reason for being there. That man with a straw hat had stared at her too long, hadn’t he? She couldn’t be sure. Too many times she had panicked in vain. She wished she could read people’s minds, but that wasn’t a skill anyone in the circus possessed.
In the evening, Cielo wore her best costume when she headed to the stage. Wrapped in silk and glitter, she added an extra edge to her singing, just in case the man from the line was up to something. The notes sang about peace and contentment, with enough excitement appropriated for each act she accompanied. And of course, as always, she increased the audience’s awe at what they had witnessed and their desire to come back again.
After she’d earned her keep and the last visitor left, she retired to the train car she shared with the dancers. The girls were busy checking their prosthetics the way they did at the end of each show, and their cheerful chatter covered the sounds of hammering coming from the other car. Rake and Spinner worked in the forge on their latest project. Not something for the circus, a new kind of prosthetic most likely.
She peeked through the shutters, and there they were. Shadows moved along the railway tracks. She hated the idea of anyone being hurt because of her, so when no one was looking, she slipped out of the car. The fresh air surrounded her, making goose bumps appear on her bare arms. It was one of those nights…
* * *
Big Dino paced the floor of the deserted circus arena, one lonely spotlight illuminating his way. The empty bleachers, partially hidden in the darkness, would have looked frightening to anyone else but not to him. He’d built this circus from the ground up, adding more cars to the train as the business grew and more people joined the crew. He didn’t like to see the arena empty. The dirty yellow and blue stripes of the tent looked sad without the vital force of an audience inside.
He grumbled under his breath and let his massive body flop down on an upturned crate abandoned in the middle of the floor. He knotted his fingers on his round belly and let out a sigh. He would have been able to join the hunting party not so long ago, but it seemed the weight added to his already big frame was in direct proportion to the expansion of the circus. He had a lot of things on his mind, and the new cook was that good.
The source of his biggest worry entered the tent, accompanied by Rake and Spinner, who both walked at a leisurely pace a few steps behind her. The knife throwers, covered in grime and sweat, towered over the scrawny kid who, except for a nasty bruise on her forehead, looked untouched. The way her jaw worked was a clear sign of how furious she was.
“We found her,” Spinner said, stating the obvious.
Found, not saved.
“I can see that.” Big Dino nodded and wished the well-being of the circus didn’t depend so much on their trophy, but it did.
Pushing the blonde wisps of hair away from her face with both hands, Cielo thrust her pointed chin up. “I refuse to live like this any longer.”
And here they went again. One day she would turn into a beautiful woman, but for now she was a skinny kid, only joints and bones, dressed in a too big shirt and faded shorts, and on the verge of a tantrum.
Rake’s chuckle didn’t help improve the situation.
“You were told not to leave the train,” Big Dino said in a reasonable voice. “You are safe there, and we can’t run around chasing after you to protect you.”
“I wasn’t safe the last time.” Cielo held his gaze without blinking. “No one was.”
“We fixed that glitch,” Spinner said, voiced subdued and head lowered between his shoulders. It had been his fault for not taking into consideration that particular scenario. The security system was new, and they still worked on figuring out all of its quirks.
Big Dino nodded in his direction. See?
“They would have hurt people.” A stubborn crease formed between the girl’s eyebrows. She was too young for wrinkles.
“We would have gotten to them in time,” Rake said, and Cielo glared at him. Not too young for holding a grudge.
“Not good enough,” Cielo said, her small fists clenching by her sides. “I want this to stop. I can’t keep killing people.”
So this was
what the whole fuss was about. Big Dino often forgot to think of them as people. They were wrongdoers who tried to kidnap and enslave a child and deserved what they got for it. Unfortunately, Cielo didn’t see it that way.
“We try our best,” he said. “The only way to be safer than this is to either leave the circus or stop singing.” Those weren’t reasonable options as far as both of them were concerned.
“I’m not leaving my home.” Cielo drew a line on the ground with the tip of a dusted sneaker. “And I won’t give up singing. Think of something else.”
They stared at each other in a standoff. There was no alternate solution.
“Erm…” Spinner coughed into his fist. “I might have an idea.” He winced. “It’s quite extreme but … it will take care of the problem.”
Big Dino arched an eyebrow, inviting him to speak further. He liked extreme.
“What’s the catch?” Cielo asked.
“You won’t have to leave the circus, and you won’t have to quit singing,” Spinner said. “But you will have to give up everything else.”
Cielo’s nose wrinkled. She needed less than a second to decide. “What do we have to do?”
But she wasn’t the one in charge, so two pairs of eyes turned to Big Dino. He took his time, scratching his chin while avoiding the dark crusts spread over his greenish skin, long enough for Cielo to become impatient.
“Let’s do it!” She stomped her foot on the floor.
Big Dino narrowed his eyes as he watched Cielo starting for the exit. Faint, but she had used the voice. Rake and Spinner were already turning to follow her. This wasn’t right. They had a strict agreement that she wouldn’t use her voice on the circus’s employees. At the end of the day, she was still a kid. He couldn’t stop her since the voice worked on him too, but he could teach her a lesson.
“No anesthetic this time,” he said.
Rake’s eyes flared wider when he glanced back over his shoulder, but he didn’t protest. Big Dino was the boss.
* * *
Strapped to the surgery chair, Cielo fidgeted, anxious to have the procedure done as soon as possible. The testing machines covering the wall to her left blinked quietly while they checked her vital signs. All the readings stayed on the green scale, but Rake and Spinner still had adjustments to make in the other room. She studied the prosthetics that hung on the wall to her right. Left in various stages of completion, more than half of them were old and barely holding together. They wouldn’t have passed the current standards, but since they were usable, they were good enough for people who couldn’t afford the real thing.
Watching Rake and Spinner design prosthetics from scratch or repair old ones used to be one of Cielo’s favorite activities. She had stopped coming over once she’d become old enough to realize that her presence endangered their work. She didn’t worry about the knife throwers who were always armed and, thanks to their implants, stronger than the average human, but it would have been a shame to have the prosthetics stolen or destroyed. Many people needed them. It made for good, lucrative work for the circus, a side business that brought a considerable income, never put in the books.
Although Cielo was one of the few circus members whose skill didn’t rely on prosthetics and was relatively healthy, all this was about to change. They had explained the procedure in great detail—twice, to make sure she understood—and then Big Dino had tried to talk her out of it. But Cielo was a stubborn child, and she knew what was right. She accepted the consequences, including the pain. Anything was better compared to the constant state of fear that she lived in.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rake asked a short while later, securing the last part of the equipment above the chair, angled towards her right leg. His wide back completely blocked the light when he towered over her.
Cielo pursed her lips and nodded.
The severe lines of Rake’s face told her he didn’t approve. It was ironic, because they were used to cutting and reattaching limbs, but apparently breaking a girl’s leg for no medical reason was too much for them.
They didn’t understand. Despite living with the circus since she was four, Cielo had never felt like she was part of the crew. She held the circus together with her singing, magnifying the show’s appeal tenfold, but she still didn’t belong. She wasn’t like them, wired in more parts than they could count. But now she would be. She would finally fit in.
Spinner came to check the readings on the screen and nodded to himself. “Are we all set here?” He turned to the chair.
“All set,” Rake said.
“Are you comfortable?” Spinner asked Cielo. His eyes blinked, huge behind the oversized glasses that made him look like a giant bee. “Don’t worry, it will only hurt for a moment. When you wake up, it will be over. Focus on that.” He patted her arm with a gloved hand.
Cielo struggled to put on a brave smile. Pain wasn’t an issue. She was familiar with pain. She’d caused it many times.
“All right, let’s proceed then,” Spinner said, more cheerful than necessary.
Rake pulled on the lever.
The hammer fell, crushing her leg.
Cielo screamed.
Before the tears streamed down her cheeks and darkness enveloped her, images flashed through her mind.
* * *
It was happening again. Cielo didn’t remember the exact moment when she had been abducted, but being bound and gagged was too much of a familiar feeling. Her wrists and ankles itched from the rope that held them tied together. The cloth shoved in her mouth had the faint smelled of gasoline and prevented any sound from coming out. No surprise there. These people feared her, as they should. They had also put a bag over her head, either to keep the destination secret or wrongly assuming she could do special things with her eyes, too. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
She wiggled, testing her restraints, and only succeeded in banging her head against the wall. That would leave a nice bump. She hadn’t had one in a while as Spinner kept berating her about the audience preferring singers who looked more like ladies rather than hooligans. She’d been more careful lately, although it was hard to be a lady at only fourteen. The lack of screams to keep still and customary kicks to make sure she did, plus the vibration of the dusty floor, showed that her captors didn’t think much of her either since they had locked her in the trunk. A poor man’s car given the smell of gasoline—most cars ran on electricity these days.
Not taking her to the town then, but to one of the farms in the area most likely. The good news was it shouldn’t be too hard to escape. The bad news, however, made her squeeze her body into a tight ball. She didn’t speak their language, so she couldn’t give them a fair warning. There would be casualties, and that was her fault. When you sang in front of thousands of people whose presence you could only guess in the bleachers, it was impossible to alter the melody to fit everyone’s psyche. For some, it would be too much, and after listening to her for several nights in a row, something inside them would snap. Cielo loathed those people who thought they could own her like she was an old patephone record. They didn’t deserve to die, though.
Blind, but not deaf, she braced herself for the impact when the car came to a halt and the engine died, taking away all signs of movement. Seconds passed until someone opened the trunk. Fresh air rushed in, smelling of reaped fields, baked bread, and manure, along with weak rays of light that managed to pass through the rough cloth wrapped around her head, disorienting her even more.
Strong hands grabbed her, and Cielo thanked heaven or whoever was up there for being small and light enough to be carried by a single person. The grip was tight and uncaring, typically male, as she bounced in his stride. The squeak of a door and two more steps passed before she was lowered to a chair. They didn’t bother to tie her to it. She wobbled, and someone pushed her against the backrest and held her there until her head cleared enough to find her balance. The same man? She couldn’t tell.
<
br /> The whispers turned into hushed voices, at least five people roaming around her, one possibly a woman. The dialect made the words come out in a harsh voice no matter who was speaking. She didn’t understand what they said, so she used her other senses. Fresh hay and animals huffing. A barn?
Someone removed the bag from her head, pulling off a few strands of hair in the process. Cielo winced and narrowed her eyes to adjust to the bright light coming from the top of a wooden beam. She was in a barn all right. A rusty harvester waited, parked in the farthest end. Four men stood in front of her, dressed in overalls, with rifles in their hands. This was what all that shuffle had been about. They didn’t want to make a mess if things got out of hand. Not good. For them.
The men parted to make room for the woman. A scarf covered most of her hair, and with the way she held her head low, it was hard to take a good look at her face. What caught Cielo’s attention was the bundle in the woman’s arms. Oh no, not one of those. She had been mistaken for a healer before. Minor illnesses and deficiencies didn’t count because there were prosthetics available for just about anything, but terminally ill patients still appeared here and there. It was hard to convince them she couldn’t help them. It was harder when she didn’t speak their language, but the circus travelled all over Europe, and she couldn’t learn all of the languages for one week spent in each town in case some of the locals were desperate enough to pull a stunt like this.
The woman must have been one of those, but she also had hope in the lines surrounding her tired eyes when she showed Cielo the baby. The skin on the small hand holding onto the blue-checkered blanket had a green tinge and the crusts had already started to appear, spread like freckles along the bare arm. It reminded Cielo of the affliction that plagued Big Dino. She didn’t know much about it—people stared at first sight, they didn’t dare to ask questions—but she was certain that while the baby wouldn’t die, it was also incurable. Otherwise, Big Dino would have gotten rid of it long ago and stopped being the big circus freak aside from being the circus owner. But how could she explain that to them?
