The Beautiful Ones - Silvia Moreno-Garcia Page 0,18

with details in gold thread, and a wide, matching cravat enhanced by a gold pin. When he reached the center of the stage, he bowed and took off his white gloves, handing them to an assistant.

“First, Mr. Auvray will demonstrate to you the basic nature of his talent,” said the announcer. “Here we have but half a dozen ordinary chairs. Nothing to them, mere wood and a few nails.”

As he spoke, Hector’s assistants set down the chairs in a row. Hector stood in front of the row of chairs, without looking at them, his eyes fixed on the audience. Then he moved a hand and the chairs all moved in that direction, as if roped together. He moved his hand in the other direction and the chairs settled back in place. A flicker of his hands and the chairs stacked themselves on each other to the oohs and ahhs of the viewers, then unstacked themselves.

“Large objects are no concern for Mr. Auvray, but how about something smaller?” the announcer asked. “A deck of cards, perhaps.”

An assistant approached Hector, and he took a deck of cards, letting it rest on the palm of his hand for a moment before he began shuffling the cards in the air. He made the cards dance around him, then whirl up and down the stage like a tornado, circling the announcer, who was reciting more lines about the deck, a common deck, and the finesse required to perform this kind of demonstration.

Next there was a change of backdrops, more music, and explanations before Hector emerged again and stood in the middle of the stage. They lit long white candles all around him. Thirty, forty, perhaps. The announcer continued with his speech, discussing the nature of fire and a divine spark, and Nina leaned forward in the dark, wishing she could be closer to the stage or that he might lift his head in their direction. He knew the box they occupied.

“Watch now, as even fire cannot evade the command of Mr. Auvray,” the announcer said.

Hector raised his hands, the candle flames rising with them, and with one movement of his arms they merged into a prodigious ball of fire that he then snuffed out with a clap of his hands, causing several spectators to shriek because, for a moment, it seemed like he was about to scorch himself.

“What is the secret? It’s all in the power of the mind, ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said as the assistants wheeled out a box. The announcer reached into the box and pulled out a handful of crystals, which sparkled under the lights of the stage.

Hector also reached into the box, and the crystals rose and coalesced into different shapes: a box, a sphere, even a flower.

When the moneyed people of Loisail entertained themselves, they were not supposed to display emotion. Neither glee nor passion colored their faces. This silliness was left to the common people. But Nina, candid, smiled widely and tried to speak to Valérie, sharing her thoughts about the performance. Valérie whacked her on the wrist with her fan and Nina bit her lip. She did not try to speak again, but she did not wash the excited smile from her face.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we must ask what seems like a silly question. Can Mr. Auvray dance? Yes? What do you think? We’d need music to find out.”

There was chuckling as the musicians pressed their bows against the strings and murmurs that increased as the assistants dragged three extremely tall mirrors onstage. Hector traced a circle around a mirror, then another, then a third, and the mirror began to spin with him. Then a second mirror spun, and a third, all perfectly synchronized. He stood in the middle of a circle of whirling glass, the mirrors shifting with the music. They were “dancing,” as the man had promised.

“Isn’t it magnificent?” the announcer asked, but the wonders had not ceased. Hector gestured to one of the mirrors and it fell, resting above the floor. He stepped onto the mirror and with a flick of his hands moved another in front of him, stepping onto that one as well, as though he were climbing up a moving, ever-shifting staircase. Once he had ascended high above the stage, he stood still on top of a mirror, like a character from a children’s book riding a magic carpet. The audience gasped as he drifted above their heads, around the theater.

He rose high; his hands brushed the monstrous chandelier