Astrid Darby and the Circus in the Sky

by Eleanor Prophet

Asher shouted.

  “But can we find the way back to Flaire's chamber? It might not have been wise to take the galley way.”

  “I remember the way. It is at the end of the guest corridor. Hurry!”

  The revellers who'd retired early were emerging from their chambers, their eyes as empty as our laggard pursuers. They swung their arms in wide, inexpert arcs. We ducked their blows without great travail and jostled them aside with as much care as our haste allowed.

  Vera Key's impressive, formidable bulk blocked the corridor ahead. Her expression was vacant. Her curls were wild, as though she'd been recently roused from sleep to assist in the attack. We drew up short in front of her. “Oh, dear,” I murmured, casting a swift, sidelong glance at Asher. A muscle in his jaw jerked as he stared uncertainly at his mother.

  “She's one of them,” Xander said.

  She confirmed his suspicion without delay. She darted forward suddenly with a speed I had not realised the automaton people possessed. She brandished what appeared to be a small knife, but which I discovered, as it swung directly before my eyes, was a letter opener. Its blade was, nevertheless, quite capable of serious damage.

  “Mother!” Asher scolded, catching her arm. “I am your son.”

  She did not respond to this. In fact, her expression did not change in the least. She struggled to extract herself from him as though she was not truly aware of her surroundings. Behind us, the army of guests were closing in, filling the hallway with a mass of pressed, unrelenting bodies. “Asher, I understand your difficulty,” I said urgently. “But we are slightly at a disadvantage here.”

  He scowled as he stared down at Vera, who flailed and swung her arms almost mechanically against his delicate restraint. He sighed. “I am very, very sorry for this, Mother. I am certain you will understand when you've come back to yourself.” He released her arm but just as quickly pinched the tender flesh between her neck and shoulders.

  Asher caught her before she slid unceremoniously to the floor. “Asher!” Juliana exclaimed, horrified.

  “She will be quite all right,” he said, nudging open the nearest chamber door with his foot in order to drag his unconscious mother inside. “Let us forget this dreadful incident at once. Come!”

  Without further ado, we raced through the corridor towards Flaire's chamber, dodging and fighting the mindless automatons as they attempted to impede our progress. “Xander, haven't you any of those clever devices of Morgan's? Something to knock them out or bring them back to their senses?” I demanded irritably as a young woman struck at my head, setting my lovely new hat askew.

  “Astrid, I am quite certain this is a scenario even Morgan could not have foreseen,” Xander replied, dodging past an elderly couple wielding their brass canes like clubs. “Though if he had, it would do us little good. All of his instruments are, most unfortunately, tucked securely up in our hotel room on the ground in London.”

  “Oh, that's just brilliant,” I complained.

  “If we can destroy the glass chamber of the apparatus, it will release the energy and set them free,” Asher said. “It is the only way to stop them.”

  “We hope, anyway,” Juliana put in.

  “At this moment, we've little more than optimism,” I told her, drawing up short as the corridor ahead clogged with people moving towards us. I glanced behind to find the inexorable army from the lounge still upon our heels. “It is a bit difficult to reach our destination at the moment, however. The situation is growing somewhat more urgent.”

  “We shall do what we must, then.” Asher seized my hand. “Keep your head down, Astrid.”

  I nearly stumbled as he hunched his shoulders and ducked his head to barrel directly into the crowd. I tossed aside my ridiculous hat and covered my head. I could hardly see as the automatons around us battered at my arms and legs while we cut a line through them. Behind us, I heard Juliana squeal as Xander pulled her similarly along.

  We burst through the cluster of bodies and raced towards the end of the corridor. The throng readjusted laggardly, spinning confusedly to pursue us. “It's here!” Asher shouted triumphantly, jerking to a halt before Flaire's chamber door. I sagged in relief and reached for the knob.

  It was, most inconveniently, locked tight.

  Asher cursed. I glanced swiftly behind us. The mob was converging once again, and their collective might would overpower us, drag us down and trample us underfoot, should they get their grasping hands upon us. I did not pause to consider our options. I drew Nathaniel's pistol from my skirts and fired it unceremoniously at the door. It blew open in a shower of splinters.

  We darted inside the room. “The chamber!” Asher barked.

  It was precisely where we left it, in the centre of the small makeshift laboratory. Inside the glass chamber, the energy swirled and danced in high agitation. It seemed almost to be sparking with life. Xander and Juliana stared up at the machine with identical expressions of awe. The light inside the chamber cast a golden glow upon their young faces.

  “Any time now, Xander!” I said.

  “But it is such an impressive machine. Such an innovation I have never seen--”

  And then, in another puff of yellow smoke, Flaire and Elodie appeared.

  They might have been in the room the entire time, somehow invisible and awaiting our return. Xander jumped back in alarm, away from the chamber, dragging Juliana with him. Flaire barely spared us a glare. “Elodie!” he commanded.

  The woman stepped forwards, swinging a bronze sword with an expert hand I would not have expected from a circus performer, nor could I suss why she would possess one at all. Xander stepped in front of Juliana, swiftly picking up a chair to defend against the young lady's strikes. He still carried a gun, but he seemed disinclined to shoot the young lady. His chivalry was, I suspected, misplaced.

  Behind us, the mob had reached the blown open door and burst into the chamber through which we had come. Asher and I spun in a single motion, racing towards the sitting room door. We leaned against it, attempting to hold it closed as Flaire's puppets battered relentlessly but generally weakly against it.

  Flaire laughed. It was a wild, gleeful noise that set the hairs on the back of my neck on end. “Yes! Yes! I warned you what would happen if you meddled in my affairs. You see now the power I possess!”

  Beside the cackling ringmaster, the floor slid open. He cut off abruptly and looked down at it in surprise. Eitenne's head appeared, then the rest of him as he pulled himself up into the room. “Eitenne!' I exclaimed with a blithe laugh.

  “Elodie!” Flaire growled, and the woman spun from Xander, who lowered the chair in surprise.

  Eitenne stared at his sister in shock. He barely lifted a hand in time to block the swing of her sword. It sliced across his arm, and blood spurted from the wound. He clutched his arm to his chest. “Elodie!” It sounded more of a plea than an admonishment, and for a moment, Elodie hesitated, staring at her brother with a terrible, pained uncertainty.

  “Finish him, Elodie!” Flaire ordered. “He stands in our way! You are beyond him. You have no use for him anymore.”

  “Come back to me, Elodie,” Eitenne pleaded. “This is not you. You are not his puppet.”

  Elodie's entire body tensed at these words, as though he had deeply insulted her. She tossed aside her sword. For a moment, Eitenne's face lit up, but then his twin launched herself forwards, swinging her fists at him. He blocked her attack, and the two were suddenly flying through the air in a sort of dance, striking out at each other with an impressive series of kicks and punches of which I would not have expected the delicate funambulists capable.

  “Astrid!” Asher shouted, but I had already discovered the source of his concern. The door splintered beside my head as Flaire's automatons broke through. Asher and I lurched forwards. “It would have been nice if you had not blasted off the entrance door.”

  “I had little choice in the matter. We were under siege, after all. Xander!” I called over my shoulder
. “Any progress?”

  He snapped out of his fascination with the funambulists' epic, gravity-defying fight and leapt towards the chamber with the chair in hand. Before he reached it, Flaire stepped into his path. He flicked his fingers towards my young cousin. A cloud of black powder engulfed Xander, and I heard him exclaim in pain. Flaire laughed in wild delight. I cursed, assisting Asher as he shoved at the clutching hands thrusting through the splintered door.

  Then a loud crash and the sound of shattering glass drowned out all the noises in the room. The grasping hands drew away from the door, through which a sudden buzz of confused murmuring could be heard. Asher and I sagged in relief as the pounding ceased. Xander coughed loudly, waving his hand as the black smoke cloud cleared.

  Juliana stood beside the shattered chamber, still holding the chair she had used to smash it. She looked rather pleased with herself.

  “Juliana!” Asher exclaimed, laughing.

  “Fair play to you, Juliana. Most well-timed,” I told her, grinning broadly.

  “No!” Flaire cried, clutching his head in pain as though the broken chamber had somehow been part of him.

  “Xander!” Juliana cried, rushing towards him.

  “Asher, get him before he disappears again!” I ordered.

  Asher did not hesitate. He lurched forwards and seized Flaire, who hardly put up any fight. “Damn. I don't have any cuffs.”

  Xander waved Juliana away. “I'll be