apart when he’d had a chance, but foolishly, he’d signed like everyone else, too panicked to refuse. He might as well have written idiot alongside his name. Eva would’ve done it for him, or simply knocked the pen from his hand before smacking the back of his head.
He was shackled to this show until its end, like everyone else. Including Kallia.
Daron raked a hand through his unkempt hair. “Come on, Rayne, you saw what happened at that dinner. She’s unpredictable.”
He glanced at Kallia, who forever seemed to be in his line of vision. In that moment, she was strutting by the newly glossed stage with her assistant in tow, along with a scar-faced circus performer who growled at any loitering workers who dared look at her too long.
If Kallia was seeking consultation from a member of the Conquering Circus, her act would probably make the dinner incident look like a quaint little bonfire.
“Does this mean you’ll call the Patrons?” Erasmus asked carefully. “Shut this all down before it starts?”
It unnerved Daron, the way others looked at him. As an authority, like a Patron. As though he held the reins on a pack of wild dogs that could scourge the city, if he so wished.
The irony was not lost on him. To Aunt Cata’s dismay, when he was performing, everyone reveled in his rebellion. Each night, he toed the line of stage magic and danger, defiance and daring.
Now he was dangerous for the opposite reason.
“Of course not.” Daron bristled. “Though if any more accidents happen, I’m sure the news would have no trouble reaching them.”
Not even he could halt the spread of gossip, but he would try. They had no clue he was just as desperate to avoid a visit from Aunt Cata. She’d done well enough to give him the space he needed, and one look at him would be all it took for her to see why.
He needed more time. To fix everything, before the others figured it out.
“But accidents happen. And why are you all set on blaming Kallia? Do any of you even have proof she started it?” Erasmus huffed, and the questions tightened in Daron’s gut. He hated being grouped with his fellow peers and the oafish majority of magicians in the show. Truly some of the worst people he’d ever encountered, and he’d met his share of ugliness in this business.
Erasmus snapped his fingers. “Ah, you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” Daron’s brow crinkled. “Are you joking—jealous of what?”
“Her power,” the proprietor said in one gleeful breath. “I can tell the judges and other contestants feel the same, and unfortunately, such attitudes develop from ugly complexes. Insecurities. Your behavior is not unusual—”
“This is not jealousy,” Daron said a little too hotly, the words raw against his throat. “I’m concerned. She could harm someone if we don’t take the necessary precautions.”
Like him. In the hallway, she’d already begun trying to read him with those viper eyes, seeking his weaknesses so he couldn’t see hers. If Kallia uncovered enough about him, there was absolutely no telling what she’d do.
And Daron wasn’t done with Glorian yet. Not even close.
The tense pause broke under the faint sounds of chatter across the spacious show hall, interrupted by the constant patters and hammering of construction. Workers and labor magicians alike had been milling in and out over the past week, breaking up the stage to replace it with new boards and lights along the edges. Daron gladly fell into the drowning rhythm of hammers on nails before he noticed Erasmus assessing him, pushing his purple-tinted glasses down the bridge of his nose.
“I must say, Demarco, you shift like the sides of a coin when it’s tossed,” said the proprietor. “If you’re so set on kicking Kallia out, why approve her audition in the first place?”
“She’s an impressive performer. Not even I can deny that.” Too impressive, he didn’t want to admit. “But if even one of her displays, or anyone else’s for that matter, turn into something we can’t handle, then I’d regret giving my vote to an accident in the making.”
His voice dropped off as a dark cloud flooded his thoughts.
The broken mirror.
His screams.
He drowned for a moment, the first in a long time, letting the memory knife through him until it was over. He set his gaze back on Erasmus, who watched him with a new wariness.
“We don’t enter this business clueless of its dangers. We embrace all that comes with this life; it’s unavoidable.” Erasmus pivoted away from incoming workers hauling piles