hands as if to capture a creature born from the sound. She hurled her hands out before her, releasing a noise of smashing glass. Again and again, she repeated the action, until the sound took on a life of its own. A strange, slow beat. Steady as a heart.
With the tempo set, Kallia smiled at her confused audience before lifting a single arm. Fire rose high from the ground, in a perfect line behind her from the remnants of water she’d thrown.
In a matter of moments, she’d caged sounds in her hand and bore fire from water.
“We must stop her—she’ll burn the whole place down!” Mayor Eilin wheezed from his seat, suddenly very much awake. Fire was obviously no friend to Glorian, but only the mayor reacted in fear. The rest of the judges appeared too mesmerized to even blink. Just like the audience.
Daron blinked at the glimmers of other sounds following the pattern of smashing glass: the slow rapping of a metal drum. A piano, pounding out lower chords. Robust blows of a horn that melted and melded everything together.
Music.
The floor shook at the sudden stomping of heels. At the startled gasps and exclamations, Daron craned his neck around. Women paraded down the aisles in flashy red circuswear, wielding their rusty instruments with flair. They played to the rhythm of the smashing glass, seizing the tempo with a song of their own. The bold tune of a midnight party, nowhere close to ending.
“This is ridiculous,” Judge Bouquet half-shouted, half-seethed, the music drowning him out.
Not a soul in the room was sleeping anymore. Some had even begun standing for a better look, their mouths agape. Eyes round as moons, and grins unsure but catching as the flames before them.
The fire rose high behind Kallia like a curtain, turning her into a dancing shadow for a moment while the Conquering Circus moved like flames below the stage. Daron wasn’t sure if he’d somehow fallen into a grand, chaotic dream. A world below, as the story would go.
Kallia swayed her hips, fierce triumph playing across her face. Her heels hit every beat as she kicked back the stool, taking the arm of a tall man in black pants and no shirt. Why the man needed no shirt was beyond Daron, but it was none other than the assistant, giving Kallia a playful spin before helping lift her onto the pegs of the stool.
And somehow, she kept ascending. After the first step from the base of the wood, another step formed to meet her foot. Then another, and another. The backdrop of the fire darkened her silhouette on the strange staircase of wood, bending and stretching in impossible ways to keep her standing.
Rising.
The applause intensified. From the rowdiest in the front to the quiet spectators in the back. Erasmus jumped up and stood on his seat, whistling with his fingers. None of the judges joined him, or dared show enjoyment. Only Daron, with a wry shake of his head. This would easily be his first and only five of the night.
The table banged beneath his elbow. Startled, he shot a quick glance down the line of judges and found the mayor thrusting his empty hourglass in the air. Time was up.
And nobody cared. No doubt Kallia was aware of the mayor’s signals and chose to ignore them. The people had become her time keepers, and they weren’t ready for the show to be over.
The floor gave another rumble beneath Daron’s feet, but not from the dancers surrounding him. He braced himself against his seat as the violent motion continued—rougher—impossible to ignore or mistake as any part of the act when one of the circus performers shrieked a note out of tone from her flute before stumbling.
The crowd stirred in a flurry of wooden groans and creaks from seats gripped and patrons rising. Even the music sputtered in discordant spikes as the players fought to plant their feet firmly over the carpeted aisles, their expressions aghast at the stage.
When Daron looked back up at Kallia, his blood chilled.
The top hat tipped on her head dropped to the ground.
A high scream.
It sounded from the audience, all watching as Kallia wavered in the air—nothing to steady or balance her still—before she slipped over her next step.
And fell.
Daron shot up from his seat. A barb-like feeling burst in his chest—a strange familiar panic—before a wave of applause came roaring.
Kallia had landed in the arms of her assistant.
Safe. The word pulsed through him. It took Daron a second