might be able to avoid for long enough. But his aunt, as well?
He’d be lucky if he came out of that collision of forces alive.
“They won’t.” Reflexively, he glanced back at Kallia. No matter how well she hid it, she’d had a lost look about her ever since she touched the head of the fallen Conqueror, and there was no knowing what she’d seen. Everyone else had apparently forgotten all about the incident, so fixated on the show. The damned, stupid show.
“Ah, see, there we go. A cooperative chap.”
At the jovial pat on his arm, Daron bristled. “Just because they won’t come immediately doesn’t mean they won’t come at all.”
“But by then, it’ll be too late to shut us down. You know as well as I that in this industry, these things do happen—and what a waste it would be if only our small corner of the island knew about it,” the man said. “I thought it best to keep it that way for a bit, but circumstances change. Luckily Lottie arrived just in time to see the plot thicken, and she has the contacts and clout to make us heard. More coverage means more business, isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Not like this.” The mayor’s face lost its color. “Not with all these threats to people’s lives.”
“The threats will make the show,” Erasmus promised. “Don’t you worry. We’re hitting two birds with one stone because nothing gets past Lottie when she’s on a story. In due time, we’ll know who to point fingers at. The only way to unearth dark secrets is total exposure. A spotlight that will bare all.”
Daron swallowed hard, and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Kallia flinch, too.
36
The countdown to the final show ticked on, with the circus leading each night by storm.
Kallia had yet to explore the entire spectacle coiling around the city. She was glad for the brief interim—it gave her time to take in the grand sights the Conquering Circus had to offer—but the absence of Juno still weighed heavily on her. Though grand, the show around her was fragile as a kingdom of cards a breath away from falling. The audience hardly noticed beyond the dazzling constancy of each night, with each performer holding the circus together without fail.
The Starling twins tiptoeing over wires and flying from one building top to the next.
The Cygna sisters, dancing gracefully underwater in glass cases, without fear of drowning.
And those daring folk who played with flames for fun.
Kallia would never forget the first time she’d seen Canary perform. She now knew how her own audience felt—wide-eyed and waiting. After ingesting the fire on her baton, Canary sent Kallia a wink before dropping to her knees, covering her mouth with a wide, frantic stare. Choking. The crowd circling her gasped, even Kallia’s stomach plummeted. Until Canary opened her hands, freeing the flames inside in an immense fiery kiss to those around her.
Despite being down one performer, the Conquerors never showed it. Whenever possible, Kallia lent a hand to their acts if they needed it, accompanied them as they visited Juno. They were a plague of loud laughter and chatter upon the hospital wing. The Starlings filled the bedside table with a messy assortment of candies and trinkets. The Cygna sisters brushed Juno’s hair, braiding it into different styles each day. Even Rova attempted to join them with Aya, but the doctor drew a firm line against permitting entry to an enormous, black-eyed lioness.
They joked and cackled as they would in their tents, but nothing woke Juno or the other magicians. Not noise, or hunger. Not even family.
Canary fell more silent with each passing visit, Kallia noticed; too worried to pretend as time crept on. But at night, she would throw on her costume without complaint, and perform. No stops, no breaks. No tears or fuss. And no one was the wiser as they watched their entertainment.
Kallia wove through the stalls and tents with Aaros, waving to friends she’d made and performers she knew in passing. They stopped at the dagger thrower’s tent, a show of heart-stopping thrills and near-misses timed to the music gloriously pumping into the air. Other acts soothed, like the aerial performers who glided on ribbon-rippling fabrics cascading from the ceilings of the taller tents. Kallia adored it so much, she wondered if she could beg for a lesson and possibly incorporate them into her final act.