that far, for that long. He’d spent hours calling her name, resisting the forest answering in return. But he’d already known.
Gone.
With all the curtains drawn tight, barring all light, he sat on his leather couch facing the fireplace that roared too hot for the day. He was a mess of disheveled hair, in a white shirt he didn’t bother to button, and a drink his maids tsked at permanently attached to his right hand.
A knock came at the door, and still, he didn’t move.
“It’s nearing sunset,” a servant called. “I’ve got another tray out here if you—”
“Leave it.” He barely raised his voice, but the message was received from the sudden clink outside, the sound of feet scurrying away. The noise reminded him of the chaos of the night before, the horses storming the House grounds, the screams of his patrons. No one had been hurt too seriously, but then, everyone had avoided his path.
Until he wiped their memories clean to rid the night from their minds.
He wished he could do the same to himself. He threw back another swig, nostrils flaring from the burn. The fire spiked higher as he refocused on the flames.
She was gone.
To where, he didn’t need to guess.
He turned his glance to the mirror on the wall. Glaring at it, even though the shadowed, sneering face no longer dominated the surface.
Every year, you play your games with them. One day, you might lose.
Remembering that monstrous voice, the master’s fist curled tighter, close to shattering the mirror. It had been a mistake to answer the old devil’s call. He hadn’t bothered in years, the glass darkened and dead as glass ought to be.
How much had she heard?
Not like it mattered. She’d heard enough.
Snarling, he knocked his empty glass over and rose to look out the window. His joints cracked under the prowling movement, eyes fixed to where he ripped open the curtains. Light hit his chest as he watched the sun set. In the distance, the hint of gated walls and shadowed buildings peeked over the dark wave of trees.
Damned city, and the monsters that waited there.
6
THE CONQUERING CIRCUS PRESENTS …
S P E C T A C U L O R E
WHERE THE STAGE TELLS A STORY, AND LEGENDS ARE BORN!
Join our competition to find the magician among magicians:
a man among men who’ll rise as the next star of the Conquering Circus.
Open auditions in Glorian held at the Alastor Place.
Born or acquired magic welcome. Stage assistants optional.
It could’ve been hours that Kallia had spent shivering by the public bulletin. It is so much colder here, she thought. The unfamiliar ice gripped at her bones, her cloak staving off the worst of it. Her eyes took in the board, studded with papers like the flyer on Kallia’s roof—the half-torn page, in full.
Magician among magicians.
A man among men.
She dug her hand into her pocket for the cloth, fingers running over the stitched rose to relieve the tight pressure in her chest. She wanted to blame the succinctness for the sake of catchiness, but it lay plain in the message staring her in the face.
You can leave, but you’d soon see there’s not much out there for female magicians.
So Jack hadn’t lied. The idea was so small-minded, so limiting and presumptuous. Her stomach soured as the words repeated in her head, an angry rhythm forming. She hadn’t run away only to be stopped before the games had begun.
She would show them.
With the raise of her chin, Kallia clutched her cloak tighter and turned her back on the posters. She blew out a stream of mist, the kind she’d only seen on winter mornings after cracking open her window at the House. Except this mist was even finer, colder. Just like everything else about the city.
For so long she’d envisioned streets bustling with people. The air warm with the sounds of laughter. Bright buildings built with broad windows, rooftops glittering beneath the break of daylight.
Not streets paved in frost. Or dull windows webbed with ice. The towering buildings lining the street were all capped with white, snowy patches, the fingerprints of a long winter leaving its mark. Even the birds darting from streetlamps to rooftops carried a chilling look to them. Kallia squinted, certain snow fell from their wings from the fine powder dusting the air in their wake.
It was a cold world. Colder than anything Kallia had ever known. A city frozen in place, quiet and lonesome even as people passed her on the street. Men and women were