immense cloaked object that towered behind it. A myriad of oohs and ahhs burst from the audience at the rise of the new arrivals. Her props.
“Your prompt for tonight’s act is as follows…” Erasmus sent her a conspiratorial wink before deepening his voice. “Down in the world below, the magician could not escape. Not without mystifying the gatekeepers within.”
As if by command, the cloth lifted from the small table, revealing a silver-handled tool upon it. “A dagger.” He pointed behind, where the cloth descended from the clasps of the tall, looming prop. “A full-length mirror, and…”
Kallia tensed at the razor-sharp edges of the mirror frame, searching for the last prop. “And?”
“A member of the audience to be part of your act.” It was the mayor’s turn to beam. “And no, you can’t choose your assistant or from the circus you’re no doubt hiding backstage. That would be cheating.”
The bite barely dug at Kallia. She’d never performed with an audience member. A dance at Hellfire House, yes, but mixing big magic tricks with a drunken patron was a liability if she ever knew one. Especially in this scenario, when nothing was planned beforehand. With all three props revealed, her mind worked to combine them as safely as possible.
No room for error, with a spectator playing a role in her act.
Thankfully, Kallia had grown used to looking out into large crowds without a drop of panic. Across the seated figures, some perked up to be chosen while others withered into their chairs to avoid notice. She nearly gave into the temptation to choose one of the judges just to see them sweat, but she needed someone who would cooperate. Someone willing, curious.
Her searching gaze slid away from the more elite attendees and landed down at the front, where she met a set of wide, unblinking eyes. The girl couldn’t have been more than ten years old, decked out in a ratty sweater that hung off her like a potato sack, but she stared at that stage like she belonged on it, and it lit her up like a flame.
Kallia crooked her finger invitingly at her. “Would you like to come up and help me?”
Whispers swept across the theater, some intrigued and others confused. The girl’s brow crinkled, looking around as if there must’ve been someone else she was addressing. The older boy to her right shook his head. “You don’t want my sister. She’s a shy thing,” he called out, rising from his seat with his chest puffed out. “I, on the other hand, would—”
“Be more than happy to escort your sister to the stage?” Kallia finished, arms crossed. “Such a gentleman.”
The boy’s bravado deflated. Head hanging low, he nudged his sister roughly in the arm, all petulance as he kicked back into his seat. The girl yanked him in the ear before racing out of her row and down the aisle, eager. The sight of her approaching made Kallia smile, until the mayor stood with a huff. “Excuse me, but you cannot bring children up there. It’s too dangerous for little girls to be involved.”
The little girl in question threw the fiercest glare at him on her way to the stage.
“You said I could select anyone in the audience.” Kallia planted both hands on her hips, daring him to refuse her. “Just be glad I didn’t choose any of you, because the temptation was certainly there.”
The judges collectively pressed back, saying no more as the girl reached the stage. She faltered when she met Kallia’s gaze, as if suddenly remembering herself—prey caught wandering in the hunting grounds. Scared, but she didn’t want to be.
“It’s all right.” Kallia was surprised by the gentle encouragement in her voice. She bent her knees a bit so as not to appear so much taller. “What’s your name?”
“Marjory,” she said quickly. “But everyone calls me Meg.”
“Well, thank you very much for joining me, Meg.” Kallia walked closer to give her a proper handshake before sweeping an arm out to the crowd. “Can I please have a round of applause for my guest?”
A delightful burst of applause rang out, and Meg’s cheeks bloomed red. It struck Kallia, how she’d rarely spent time around children. Hellfire House was certainly not the place for them. But in flashes, she remembered herself as a child under Sire’s care, running down the halls of that large, empty home with a strange sort of freedom she’d lost the more she’d gotten to know the House. But the moment she’d tapped into her