of redwood planks. “The worse damage is done off-stage when you try to smother out potential. When you blow out the candle before people in the room can glean its light. And this city does not need to suffer in the dark anymore, don’t you think?”
Shame coursed through him, burning under his skin. Eva would have walloped him for the very same reasons. He’d felt her prickly presence hovering around him ever since he entered the Alastor Place hours earlier, intent on removing Kallia from Spectaculore.
That morning, Daron had risen earlier than the sun, marching over to the archaic building to catch Erasmus or Mayor Eilin first, only to find one other person waiting in the show hall.
She sat in one of the dusty seats in the front row. Her back to him, observing the bare stage with the most searing brand of concentration. She never acknowledged him, though he knew she was sharp enough to hear even needles clink from the backmost rows. She simply didn’t care to turn around, so focused, as though watching a show only she could see.
It was exactly what he used to do. Sit by the stage in the early hours of the day, pretending to be in the audience. Enjoying the rare peace of it.
Even as more people had filtered in, she remained. Just as Daron stood in the same place by the door. Workers and labor magicians jostled by him. Other contestants arrived, urging him to join them for a light round of warm-up exercises. He batted them all away just to continue standing there, curious.
Daron shook his head at how long it had taken him to stop. He’d been the one to instigate their argument between their rooms, after all. With help from a bit of liquor, and the residual adrenaline of surviving the dinner party.
That’s no excuse, he could practically hear Eva whispering.
He snuck another glance at Kallia making her way through the show hall. Even with wooden planks, paint, and tools scattered everywhere, she all but glided around them, moving with ease in pants tucked into tall burgundy boots and a long black jacket to stave off the morning chill. They had the same effect as that tight wrap of a gown from dinner. People tensed if she got too near and watched her shamelessly when her back was turned, as though she were a flame that could spill over at any moment.
“You of all people should be more supportive of her,” Erasmus interjected abruptly, as if he could hear Daron’s thoughts. “I believe you see something in her that not all the judges can relate to. Perhaps her story will end differently.”
Whatever regret had briefly sunk into Daron’s head vanished to the cold returning. The black cloud, threatening his thoughts.
Everything about him, inside him, turned to ice.
“It’s truly a real shame, what happened to that assistant of yours.” The proprietor ticked his tongue sympathetically. “You two made quite a pair, and she was such a pretty girl—”
“Shut up, Rayne,” Daron snarled. He edged away, into the cacophony of hammering and shouting that only brought him closer to the sound of a young woman laughing with all the confidence in the world, hours before the first performance.
* * *
The true leader of the Conquerors went by Canary.
After the scarlet canary, a songbird whose voice was lower than one would suspect for its size. Earlier in the morning, Kallia had given a sleep-rumpled Aaros instructions to find the girl as soon as he’d risen and to meet her at the Alastor Place. At such an hour, he probably would’ve said yes to walking stark naked all over the city.
No one but Kallia would be in their right mind to wake so early just to case the Alastor Place on the first day of the competition, hours before dress rehearsal. She’d simply watched the stage, alone, envisioning the show as the audience would behold it—the lights lit and the red curtains drawn, sliding open in answer to the applause.
The applause faded as hammering and shouting shook Kallia from the dream. Disoriented, she stole a glance around at the construction workers filing in and out. Demarco stood in the back with that inscrutable stare of his. Erasmus Rayne had only just arrived, and finally, Aaros dragged in the ruby-haired girl who appeared even more disagreeable when freshly woken. But as Kallia relayed her plans for tonight, the circus performer’s scowl melted into a smirk. She’d given her name like an offering in