will work in our favor. It’s easier to rope in a crowd from the outside when they’re already itching for a peek within.”
“I’ve heard talk of hidden magic,” Daron cut in.
Everyone turned toward him, and the acute attention made his face grow hot.
“Or something strange and powerful, at least,” he added quickly, coughing over his words. “Concealed.”
That had everyone’s eyebrows rising.
“Thank you for adding that theory to the pile, but this isn’t Zarose Gate.” Janette let out a peal of laughter. “I can assure you, we’ve spent far too long keeping most forms of magic out. The last thing we would want is to hide any.”
“Then why open Glorian up to magic now?” Daron pushed harder than he should’ve. There could’ve been secrets she and the mayor were keeping, something they knew. And yet their manner screamed the opposite. At each theory, their expressions shifted from lost to downright insulted, especially at Daron’s.
Nothing frightened him more: the possibility of finding out Eva had been wrong all along. Or finding nothing that could lead him to her.
“Mister Demarco, you’re as bad as the circus man.” Janette shook her head, almost pitiably. “Like I said, wasteful stage shenanigans were never our priority. But unfortunately, they have become our last resort.”
“And the only thing that could save your city.” Kallia’s voice rang out. She rested her chin against her palm. “Not that it really matters, or anything.”
“Enough crackpot rumors.” Mayor Eilin swatted his hand dismissively. “What matters is we’re looking to move forward and rebuild. The renovations in Glorian have been an ongoing project, and it’s time to finish fixing what’s been broken. We can all agree that the Alastor Place has seen better days, am I right?”
That elicited a few chuckles, but Daron controlled his. The time for stories was over, and he knew to keep quiet. Too much interest led to scrutiny. And he already had enough eyes following him.
Daron sat back with a sigh. He didn’t even attempt to participate in the discussion about the Alastor Place. There was something sad about the Alastor Fold compared to the rest of Glorian. The architecture carried itself beautifully, in the way an old iron sword worn from war would. All sharp angles and grim edges. But having spent the auditions in that broken mess of a show hall, Daron wondered how such repairs could even be completed in time for the first performance night.
“The Conquering Circus can conquer anything,” Erasmus boasted in response, pink-cheeked. Daron was surprised he’d spoken aloud. “We have over a week, plenty of time to transform. I’ve hired only the best workers and labor magicians for this project.”
“And how will they be compensated for the rush work?”
All eyes shifted to Kallia, idly tracing her finger over the rim of her glass.
“Very generously.” The man cleared his throat, though it was clear he hadn’t given it any thought until now. “As you know, you will all be receiving a rather nice stipend for the work you’ll be doing. Well, the ones who make the first cut.” With a reassuring wink, he added, “It’s in the contract.”
Some contestants lifted their glasses in assent, but Kallia’s deliberating finger stilled over hers. “I find it curious that you’ve chosen the most neglected building in which to host this grand event. It sounds like an awful lot more work for the people who have to get their hands dirty,” she drawled. “And don’t forget the circus workers who have to make camp there. In this cold weather, especially.”
Daron was ashamed to not have even considered the circus. Aside from that one performer who’d tried auditioning, the women of the Conquering Circus didn’t occupy as much attention as its leader. For a circus, they were peculiarly quiet, practically invisible except when boasted about by name.
An air of unease hung over the room. Stiffly, Erasmus loosened his tie, his color rising. “Unfortunately, the Alastor Place is the largest building in Glorian with the space we require.”
Of course it was the only possibility. Glorian possessed no shows or theaters, and for the scope of what Erasmus was imagining, they needed room. They needed the universe. The gleam in the proprietor’s eye brightened as he listed off proposed changes. “… installing new seats and more lighting!” he said. “Nothing much we can do about the hideous old bell tower; that thing hasn’t been able to ring in ages. But the ruin from all else—gone. We’re in the process of raising a city back from the dead, bigger