to catch his breath, lower back into his seat, and calm his heart. Whether it had been a trick or a mistake, Daron couldn’t tell. Kallia hid her face in her assistant’s chest before throwing a coy smile out with a grand sweep of her arm, a burst of victorious laughter.
As if the fall hadn’t been enough, a series of lights sparkled from the stage. The top hat, which had fallen near the edge with its rim out and open to the crowd, began pouring out light. Sparks shot into the air like fireworks. And a swarm of peculiar black orbs came flying out, dissolving to glitter as they flew over the heads of those seated.
Little black birds soaring from the hat, vanishing into fireworks.
17
Kallia had never seen so many flowers in her entire life. Enough roses to fill rivers, fiery gloriosas galore, and the most curious kinds of plants with glittering scale-like petals and lights in the veins of their leaves. At Hellfire House, she’d mostly received trinkets and jewels, the occasional vase of flowers. But never this many all at once. The people of Glorian might not have had the means to attend performances before, but they sure knew how to show their appreciation.
“Marvelous act, you put on, my dear—absolutely marvelous!” one woman trilled, stopping Kallia with her gloved hand and a long-stemmed rose. “I don’t think I’ve felt my heart race so fast since I was a little girl.”
The whole circle that had gathered around Kallia chuckled, even Mayor Eilin. Despite the jovial manner with which he led the contestants and guests around the after party at the Prima, she couldn’t ignore his tight-edged smiles. To no surprise, he and the judges had scored her a collection of ones and twos. Demarco, the only four among them. But it was the roars of the crowd that saved her, everyone standing and begging for more. Not even the experts’ panel could go against the clear voters’ choice. Though they’d made quite a show of it, drawing out the names of the contestants who would remain in the running, until at last, uttering Kallia’s as if against their wills. Though now, they all raised their drinks. Just for tonight. Tomorrow, her success would be forgotten. And the claws would come out again, itching for another chance to knock her out.
Kallia barred those thoughts behind smiles, saving her sweetest for Aaros. He groaned underneath the weight of what looked to be his very own garden in his hands.
“Room for one more?” Kallia peered between leaves and stems and ribbons, finding a corner of a face in the mess of it.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “I agreed to haul your spoils of war but it doesn’t mean you can abuse the power.”
“I just gave this city the best damn show it’s ever seen. You can’t expect me to be able to lift anything other than my wine.” She sipped at her glass and twirled the rose in her other free hand. Aaros squared her a look. “Oh fine, I guess I can hold one.”
“My hero.” Aaros craned his head over a bright orange-and-pink bouquet as he mouthed, “How are you holding up?”
Kallia’s stomach knotted. Only at the pricks at her palm did she realize how tightly she was gripping the rose. The adrenaline of performing could make her forget so much of an act, but not this one. Aaros had seen it clearly in her eyes like a fire running cold.
Fear.
Not of breaking her neck from the fall, but of something else.
That slip had rattled her; the hat only worsened it. Kallia had not been the one to make the entire show hall quake, nor had she summoned those awful birds.
It could’ve been anybody.
A jealous competitor. A bitter judge.
“Such promising talent across all of the gentlemen tonight, I’d say. Valmonts trained them well,” Kallia overheard a man say. He looked as harsh as his tone betrayed, in his stark gray top hat and stiff coat. “That girl though … using circus folk? All the dancing nonsense?”
“It was far too much,” his peer agreed. “A magician’s stage is no place for a showgirl.”
Kallia bit her tongue. She’d heard just as many whispers at her back as she had praise, post-performance, and despite how she forced herself to shake it off, it grated on her. She’d already arrived a burning fuse. It wouldn’t take much more to set her off.
“From their lackluster applause, I’d say those magicians could learn a thing