length of the main tent, hanging over the heads of a raucous gathering of girls. A silver-white bonfire writhed in the center, which seemed to provide more than enough warmth for the musicians handling the instruments bare-handed, and those wearing a variety of odd, flashy coats. Many wore skin-tight body suits that reminded Kallia of her dance leotards. She recognized Juno among them, strutting around in a formfitting outfit that stretched over the wide flare of her hips, sheer enough to showcase all of her glimmering tattoos. She took a sip from a bottle and raised it over her head like a scepter, before doubling over in hysterical laughter.
Kallia watched the scene, wordless. Transfixed. Laughter mingling with music was a sound that made her ache, conjuring memories of joking in the practice room with Mari, Sanja, even Mistress Verónn when Kallia had failed in teaching her a routine.
None of it had been real. Not really.
“What’s the matter, boss?”
Aaros stared at her in concern. Kallia sighed shakily. “Nothing. It’s cold, is all—”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk us?”
Kallia turned at the spiteful voice, finding a dark-skinned girl around her age a few steps away. Her hair gleamed ruby red under the hazy glow of the lamp above, but that wasn’t what struck Kallia first. A light scar snaked across her face, curling down to emphasize her fierce scowl—the face of a starving tiger before it attacked.
“Just enjoying your music.” Kallia tilted her glance back at the hub of performers. “I haven’t heard any since I got here. Unfortunately, this city has a severe lack in taste.”
“An outsider, too? Part of the show, then?” the girl demanded brusquely. “Let me guess, you’re the flashy sidepiece for this magician bloke.”
Most of the ladies Kallia had encountered on the street barely met her gaze. But this one talked like how a snake would bite, and it only made Kallia like her more. “Actually, the bloke is my flashy sidepiece,” she said, enjoying the other girl’s reaction. “Pretty, isn’t he?”
With a dramatic breath, Aaros threw back his head. “You flatter me.”
“I’ll be damned.” The girl’s scowl dropped. “I didn’t know female magicians could be allowed in … Rayne turned me away.”
“Wait, that was you?” Kallia briefly remembered the judges’ account of a girl who’d tried auditioning.
“Oh, they mentioned me?” She coolly inspected her nails before running them through her red hair. “Wonder what colorful adjectives they used. You must’ve had one spectacular audition if they couldn’t say no.”
A sliver of envy sharpened her tone, but not the nasty kind. Impressed, almost. At least Kallia thought so. “They didn’t have much choice, and neither did I. It was either I earn my spot, or I was on the streets.”
A snicker came from Aaros at the mere idea, while the circus performer coolly lifted a shoulder. “These streets aren’t too bad,” she said. “If you ever decide to shed your fancies for a bit, you should come back. The girls would be keen to meet you.”
Kallia tamped down her rush of excitement. “I’ll take you up on that.” She bobbed her head, ears perked at the sounds of instruments she wasn’t sure she’d ever heard.
The stranger observed with a knowing tilt of her head. “You’re a performer, I can smell it on you. What sort of shows could a female magician possibly put on before all this?”
Kallia stilled. The question came as no surprise, but hearing it out loud was like having the skin peeled off her bones. Everything, bared. What other secrets did she wear that others could all too easily see?
The girl’s face softened suddenly, her brow drawn. “Sorry. I … I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Wait, what do you know?” Aaros exclaimed, eyes wide.
Kallia’s pulse thundered even more. There was no way she could’ve met this circus performer, unless she frequented Hellfire House, which was unlikely. She wouldn’t forget hair that red. Still, the girl didn’t seem to recognize Kallia, either.
“Calm down, pretty boy. It’s nothing you could understand.” The circus performer scowled at him. “Not unless you’re a magician like us trying to make it anywhere.”
Both girls looked at each other, as though a secret were shared between them. I know, they seemed to say to each other. This stranger knew where Kallia had come from without needing an answer—the shows she was allowed to put on rather than the ones she wanted—just as Kallia knew her. No words needed. No judgment, no pity.