praises, his voice projecting to the audience. “You’ll want to stay right there in the middle. Now, pay attention to this next part, Jetta dear.”
In a single line, twelve troupers come filing out. One very important stimulant is missing.
My eyes track them as they circumvent me, forming three layers of circles to surround me, while I stay right in the middle. Every single one of them dressed in matching white unitards and tights—the females having white tulle skirts, while the males have white dance belts. Their feet are bare, but their faces are fully covered in elaborate white face masks that glitter with silver beads.
And all of this—this is on purpose too. Because he knew I’d be wearing black. Because he knew amidst all of this pure, soft white silk and glittering silver, I’d be the discernable villain.
The troupers stay in a perfect circle formation around me, and I can scent their readiness to fight, even as I try to pick out who’s who. They stand expressionless, not giving anything away, surrounding me in bloodthirsty resentment.
And still, Kaazu doesn’t cut to the chase. He still keeps me on the edge of a blade, building up the tension until it’s so thick it’s nearly choking me.
My eyes cut past them to Kaazu.
“Where’s Cliff? Where’s the kid?” I demand.
Kaazu’s lips tip up, making the thorny vines on his beard curl. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He taps the cane once, twice, three times on the wooden stage. The sound echoes, ringing in my ears like a judge’s gavel.
I hear the crowd gasp, and I don’t understand for a moment, I don’t see until the troupers’ eyes all look up at the same exact moment. Dread rises in my stomach, and my eyes rise with it.
There, suspended from the ceiling, is a hollow, twenty-foot silver beam being lowered down.
It stops its downward path when it’s a good ten feet above me, parallel to the floor. But it’s not the beam itself that makes the blood in my veins curdle. It’s the sight of the two bodies on either end of it.
My eyes widen in pounding panic and tumultuous dismay as dark blue stage lights project onto the forms.
On the left end is Freddie. On the right end is Cliff.
I don’t know which sight has me more horrified.
Freddie’s tiny body is sitting up on the beam, a simple black rope clutched tightly in his chubby hands. He looks so tiny up there, and his face is wet with tears.
And Cliff...Cliff…
He’s so battered that I barely recognize him. Emaciated. Bruised. Broken. Unconscious. His body is sprawled out on the beam, bones turned at wrong angles, a matching black rope twisted around his arms.
“What the fuck did you do?” I snarl at Kaazu.
His face fills with arrogant pride, like this is just another shining moment for his illustrious life. “Don’t you see? It’s a fight of choice, Jetta. Your actions have consequences. You’ll make one or both of them pay. The child or your lover.”
I’m breathing hard, my tender knuckles barely healed over, threatening to split open again as I curl my hands into tight fists.
“Spit it out, Kaazu.”
“That’s Master Kaazu to you.”
“You’re not my fucking master.”
He laughs. “Such fire. Such fierceness,” he muses, talking loudly for the audience’s sake. They’re all riveted, like this is just another part of the performance. “That’s why you’re such a pivotal part of my troupe, Jetta. You always had that fire inside of you. I knew it as soon as my headhunters found you in that orphanage. That fiery fury you hold inside is what makes you so enthralling to watch.”
“Let them go,” I say.
“Who lives tonight will be entirely up to you. As I said, the troupe will fight you. But the square you’re standing on? It’s connected with the beam. If you stand on the left, the beam tips left. If you stand on the right, it tips down on the right side. It’s quite simple.”
Nothing about this is fucking simple. It’s all a part of his intricate plan to punish me. To destroy me. To wreck me so thoroughly that, by the time this is over, I’ll either be dead, or I’ll wish I was. And he does it all as a form of entertainment for the masses.
He takes a step back, and with a flick of his cane, bolts of electricity shoot out. The crowd oohs and aahs at the sudden display of power. More and more electricity erupts out until he seems to break it