It unleashed something in him, unlike anything he’d felt before. Magic that leapt without thinking, without waiting.
“For someone who barely uses them anymore, you’ve got quick hands, Demarco,” Judge Silu said, a burning cigar hanging from his lips. “The Patrons would be proud. Could’ve gotten gory up there.”
Daron grimaced. He didn’t need more praise, or the visual. Once his protective shield had faded, Aaros had collected Kallia and rushed her off the stage. All the while, the audience applauded with almost mindless joy, thoroughly entertained by Daron’s display.
He was no hero. Not used to being treated like one, either.
Of all the protection Kallia could’ve conjured the moment the mirror shattered, she’d chosen her own body as a shield. The little girl came out of the performance shaken, but without a scratch. Kallia had taken those hits without so much as a cry of pain, even as the birds tore past her into the air. And even still, she continued performing magic to protect others. For a powerful magician, it was a wasteful pain. For her, it had been instinct.
Daron took a long sip from his glass, waiting for the burn to kick in. For his nerves to calm.
“… a shocking night, indeed.” Erasmus’s voice rose above the crowd, tutting softly as his group made their way to the bar. “It’s almost as if the show isn’t over, even after the curtain’s dropped.”
Daron cringed at how the man could fashion a tone both solemn and garishly amused. Tonight’s show had stopped after the incident—not like there needed to be any eliminations after a handful of performers hadn’t even bothered to come. But when he saw the opportunity that was the chaotic end of Kallia’s performance, he milked the sympathies of every attendee to cross his path.
“But that ending, that girl! And the judge!” One of his companions gasped. “Such a dramatic performance. Was it all planned?”
“Of course it was.”
Mayor Eilin approached with his crew of top hats, their disdain undeniable. Thankfully, no one had yet noticed Daron cradling his drink at the bar. But even with his back to them, his hackles rose.
“Oh really?” Erasmus challenged. “And you know this how?”
“She’s the talk of the night, isn’t she? I’ve never seen a performer more determined to orchestrate the entire world around her.”
“How can you believe she would orchestrate an act that would cause harm to herself?”
“Are you admitting that your dazzling star has finally dimmed?” The mayor laughed, his group heartily accompanying him. “Good. If anything, tonight was an important lesson in the consequences of the bold. Maybe her new scars will teach her not to wear such brazen dresses.”
Daron’s fingers clenched around his glass at the sounds of assent and laughter. A curse crawled up his throat, wishing to shut them all up.
“For a herd of respectable judges, you spend an awful lot of time staring at her clothes.”
Aaros’s easy voice broke in, and Daron stole a quick glimpse over his shoulder. It was the exact war he’d been imagining: Mayor Eilin with the judges to one side, and Erasmus and his guests to the other. Enemies meeting on the battlefield. And squeezing himself into the center of it all was Aaros, rolling his eyes as if he’d never witnessed a more disappointing brawl.
The mayor sniffed. “What do you know, boy? You’re an assistant.”
“To the best performer in the entire damn show,” Aaros finished coolly.
“Oh, you’re that dashing boy!” a woman from Erasmus’s side gushed, and the mayor’s face hardened at her reaction. “Tell us, was that dangerous act all a trick?”
“Magician’s secret, my lady.” Aaros delivered a charming wink over his shoulder that sent everyone back into a flurry of debates and criticism.
“This won’t stand,” Mayor Eilin roared. “I’m penning a summons to the Patrons tonight.”
“You will do no such thing—it’s finally getting interesting!”
Daron hunched deeper into his shoulders, wishing to disappear altogether. The thought of Aunt Cata joining the fray pierced even more nausea through him.
If she saw him, she would know.
They would all know.
“Hiding in plain sight never works well for the prey.”
Daron startled as Aaros took a seat next to him. Hailing the bartender’s attention, his sly expression slid into a grim, unsmiling mask. “Why isn’t the hero basking in his well-earned glory?”
“Please, don’t.” Daron downed the rest of his drink before tapping the rim of the empty glass to signal for a refill. “I can’t bear to hear another—”
“Quit your worrying. I’m messing with you. I know you