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Someone brought out a fiddle. Next came a fife and a pair of bodrum drums. The music reminded me of Niffin’s little band, and my heart cramped with longing for Malita. Certainly, I wanted to find the Fantazikes for the hope that they could help me restore my powers, but reuniting with my friend was another great motivation. If the Tippanys still have her. If they haven’t already found a way to send her back to Agridan.
Falak collected my dirty dishes and added them to his tray.
“Will I have to wash those as well?” I asked as he started for Gepennio’s wagon.
“Someone else has that duty tonight, but you may rely on there being plenty for you to do in the morning.” He winked, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the crowd.
I groaned, fell against the grass, and studied the stars. A flock of wispy clouds shrouded the half-full moon. The Aeolus constellation winked at me from a slightly higher position than he had when I’d stared at him from the pirate’s wagon on my way to San Marena. What must my ancestors think of me, now?
A high-pitched tenor joined the band, singing in a foreign tongue. Although the meaning of the words eluded me, the tone sounded playful and animated. I sat up, fingers drumming on my knee in time with the beat, and I watched as individuals, especially the children, peeled away from the crowd and joined in the center of the wagon circle to dance. Linking hands, they stepped in a series of precise formations, sometimes stepping in close, sometimes spreading farther out. They let go and twirled around in pairs before coming together again as a group. More dancers joined until only a few outliers and I remained, observing, clapping, whistling and cheering.
I caught a glimpse of a dark-skinned young woman on Falak’s arm, her black curls swirling around her head like an ebony crown glowing in the torch and lantern lights. She stared up at him, grinning, admiration showing clearly on her face. I studied her closer, her features tickling something in my memory. A thought clicked into place, and I leaned back, peering at the mural on the wagon beside me. The figure balancing atop the tightrope closely resembled Falak’s dance partner. I examined the real-life girl again, picturing her in tights and striped skirts.
Melisandre, I presume. She looked like a doll, twirling in Falak’s embrace. I snorted and rose to my feet. No one would ever make that analogy of me. While Melisandre was obviously built for poise and balance, I was constructed from sturdier stock—made for controlling storms and wielding lightning. If I was jealous of her, it was only because she had a place, a home, and a purpose, and not because of the handsome young man dancing at her side. I had my own handsome young man...or, I did have one. I wouldn’t blame Gideon if he hated me for abandoning him, but I’d leave him a thousand times over if it kept him safe and alive.
Thoughts of Gideon chased away my good mood. I left the festivities, seeking solitude in which to brood. Winding my way through the wagons, I breached the exterior ring, and the music faded to a soft hum. In the distance, the humpback outline of a foreign mountain range rose like a great black wall, and I wondered if we would have to cross over them before reaching our next destination. A stiff breeze swept past, tossing loose strands of my hair about. The meadow grasses swayed, rustling against my shins. I closed my eyes and savored the fresh air, stillness, and quiet.
But a girl’s terrified shriek rose and shattered the night.
I spun around, eyes wide, searching for the source of the scream. Several yards away to my right, a massive shadow traced in moonlight roared and sprang forward. The girl screamed again. She stumbled, lost her balance, and fell to her rear. Reflexively, I reached for lightning, ready to illuminate the sky or attack if necessary. Instead, I found only the sensation of stepping off a cliff and falling into nothingness.
The beast lunged, trapping the girl between his forelegs. I raced toward the fight without a clue of what to do, but the urge to help, to try something, anything, compelled me. The beast’s oil and hot metal scent saturated the air as he raised a paw, starlight flickering on brass claws, and his victim shrieked as she scrambled to escape him. He slashed, batting her to the ground.
The beast—a lion?—roared again, and his victim rolled over, covering her head with her arms as he lunged down.
“No, Sher-sah!” Falak burst from the shadows before I’d reached the fight, and he threw himself at the lion as it attacked. Something squealed like rending metal, and I cried out, horrified at having witnessed Falak’s certain mauling. The ringmaster groaned and fell to his knees as the lion released him and froze, as still as a statue. My heart battered against my ribs as I scrambled to his side.
“Falak?” I grabbed his shoulder and peered in his face, although the pale moonlight had draped him in thick shadows.
He released a deep breath. “I’m okay.”
“But that thing nearly tore off your arm!”
He chuckled, but it ended in a groan. “I have one to spare, don’t worry.”
“What?” I began, but Falak turned to the lion.
“Back off, Sher-sah,” he said. The creature’s giant shadow shifted and backed away with preternatural grace and a subtle clicking of gears. The figure at the lion’s feet whimpered, but rolled to her knees and scrambled away from us. Although the darkness concealed her face, something about her seemed familiar.
Falak swayed. I steadied him as he rose to his feet. “I’m okay, Evie. It’s not as bad as you think.”
A small crowd had arrived bearing lanterns, and the light revealed the truth. His shirtsleeve had been torn away, exposing the gleam of brass that was a bit crumpled and mangled, but still recognizably shaped like a young man’s arm.
My mouth fell open, and I nearly swooned. Someone in the crowd snickered, jolting me from my stupor. “Would someone please explain?”
“Svieta,” Falak said, “see to Sher-sah and meet me in my wagon.” A stout, middle-aged woman with thick gray hair twisted into a bun separated from the crowd, responding to Falak’s request with a silent bow. “You.” He pointed to the lion’s victim. He crooked his finger and issued an order in Bonhemmish. The stranger, in a hooded cloak that cast deep shadows on her face, dipped her head in acknowledgement.
Limping forward, Falak proved he’d injured more than his arm.
“Where are we going?” I asked, giving him my shoulder for support. He leaned on me, although I suspected he regretted needing my help. The stranger followed us without resistance or hesitation, and I wondered what Falak had said to gain her obedience.
“I have questions for our visitor. You’ll have questions for me. It could make for a long night, and I’d rather sit down while we sort out the details.”
“But—”
“No buts. Get me to my wagon and we’ll talk.”
I swallowed my protests and held him steady as he directed me to his wagon, which turned out to be an austere compartment paneled in dark wood. A carpet woven in gold and burgundy patterns covered the floor, and a heavy desk sat against one wall, ledger books stacked on every corner. Instead of taking the padded chair at his desk, he crumpled onto the bed arranged at the end of the room.
When I was certain he wouldn’t pass out, I turned to face the girl who had silently followed us in from the meadow. My mouth fell open again as surprise washed over me in a hot, prickling wave. “Karolina?”
A wry smile crossed her lips. She dropped her hood and bent in a brief and lazy curtsey. “Lady Thunder.”
“What are you doing here?” I studied the princess, looking for signs that she’d been hurt or mistreated in any way. Other than the dust and wrinkles marring her black slacks and long cloak, and the strands of hair that had escaped from her braid, she appeared as lovely and well-kept as the first night I met her. I eyed her cloak again, studying the embroidery embellishing the neckline and hood. Otokar’s robes had featured a similar collection of shapes and symbols. “Does your sister know where you are?” I motioned to her attire. “Does Otokar?”
“Stop,” Falak demanded in Dreutchish. He grimaced and tugged off a glove with his teeth. He worked at the buttons at his collar. “Explain.”
I pursed my lips and flung my hand out, gesturing to the wayward princess. “Falak Savin, it’s to my great consternation that I present to you Princess Karolina, sister of Křisnová Tereza Jagiellon—Empress of Bonhemm.”
Blood rushed into Falak’s cheeks, coloring his face a deep maroon. “What in the bloody Shadowlands?”
“As you’ll recall, she went missing from the castle several days before. Apparently, you’ve been harboring a stowaway.”
Karolina rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t hiding. I’ve been following at a distance.”
“Then what were you doing prowling around the outskirts tonight?”
She wagged a shoulder. “Got curious. Wanted to see the dancing.”
“It doesn’t matter what you were doing.” Falak was nearly frothing at the mouth. “You’re going home before the empress brings her royal guard down on my head. I won’t be blamed for kidnapping her sister.”
She straightened her spine, stiffened her jaw, and folded her arms over her chest. “You won’t do any such thing. I am a princess, and no one tells me what to do.”
I blinked at her, astonished at her obstinacy. Little monster.
The pulse in Falak’s throat beat like a galloping horse. His eyes narrowed, and he bared his teeth at her. “This is my circus, princess. Here, I am the king. And if I say you go...you go.”
Clearing my throat, I gave Karolina my best queen-of-the-realm stare, channeling the look on my father’s face when he was displeased and wanted me to understand the severity of his disapproval. “Never mind the selfishness or dangerousness of your actions. Never mind the resources being spent on the effort to find you. Never mind your sister’s fear for your life, or a nation’s panic. It’s late, we’re far from Prigha, and the road home is dangerous, especially at night.” I glanced at Falak, and the intensity of his glare nearly knocked me over. “In the morning, I will take her back to Prigha myself. For tonight, though, she should stay with me. I’ll watch her and make sure she doesn’t get into any more trouble.”
My offer to take her home sat like ice on my tongue. How could I get her to the city without endangering her or risking that Jackie and Le Poing Fermé might find me?
Falak shook his head, and a lock of dark hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it away and glared at Karolina. “No. Tonight she will stay in the menagerie wagon. She’ll be locked in with Sher-sah, and he will guard her.”
An angry flush flooded Karolina’s face, and she shoved a hand on her jutted hip. “I won’t sleep with that beast. It’s not like I’ll run away. This is where I want to be.”
Falak’s nostril’s flared. “What you want is no concern of mine.”
She pushed out her bottom lip and stomped her heel. “Why does Evie get to stay?”
“She’s useful to me.”
“I can be useful, too.”
His dark eyes scraped up the princess’s figure from her booted toes to the top of her head and back down again. His upper lip curled. “A spoiled brat is no use to a circus. Go back to your posh castle.”
She inhaled, probably to form another retort. I didn’t give her the chance. “Don’t waste your breath.” I locked my eyes on hers and drew on every ounce of my blood and ancestry that had known the weight of wearing a crown. “Right now, the best thing you could do is sit down and be quiet.” I shoved her toward the chair at Falak’s desk. She stumbled, lost her footing, and fell into the seat. Although she harrumphed and made an elaborate show of crossing her arms over her chest, she said nothing more.
“Now.” I arched an eyebrow at the injured ringmaster and pointed to his wounded appendage. “Maybe you can explain that.”
Falak grimaced but offered no argument. Heedless of propriety, he unfastened the remaining buttons on his shirt and slipped the fabric from his shoulders, careful not to strain his wounded arm. Nude from the waist up, Falak’s infirmity was clear. Long stripes of old, silvery scars mottled his slim chest and one shoulder. A thick ring of inflamed skin outlined the edge of a metal band, connecting a mechanized arm to his flesh-and-bone shoulder. The lion’s attack had mangled his biceps and forearm near the elbow. Several puncture wounds, presumably from the beast’s metal fangs, marked the arm’s smooth brass surface.
“Sometimes,” he said, “when a tigress is protecting her cub, she’ll attack any intruder, including children. Especially children.”
He held still and let me look, taking in my fill of him, and I didn’t realize I’d been holding in my breath until I almost swooned. “A tiger did that to you?” I gestured at his scars.
He nodded. “When I was a little boy. It’s a long story, and I’m not in the mood to tell it.” He wrapped his long fingers around his upper arm, gritted his teeth, and with a grunt, turned it with a click, pop, and hiss from the broken seal. The arm detached from his shoulder, and he set the mangled appendage beside him on the bed.
I schooled my face to radiate serenity and composure. If he expected his revelation to disgust or horrify me, I meant to disappoint him. Karolina gasped, but mercifully remained quiet. “You’re not the only one who has lost a part of themselves,” I said. “Not that I can completely relate, mind you.”
He arched a dark eyebrow. “Oh?”
Before I could explain my meaning, a knock rattled the door. Moments later, a little round woman with deep lines around her mouth and eyes stepped inside toting a large carpet bag. The contents of Svieta’s bag clanked and jangled as she squeezed into the wagon’s confined space and approached the young ringmaster. As though we were invisible, she ignored Karolina and me and rattled off a question to Falak.
“She asks if I’m in pain,” Falak translated before giving an answer in Svieta’s language.
“I assume the answer is yes,” I said. “Your eyes have that glassy look people get when they’re hurting.”
Svieta settled on the bed beside Falak and opened her bag. She withdrew a small jar and cracked open the lid. The scent of eucalyptus saturated the air as she rubbed the ointment into the ringmaster’s inflamed shoulder. “You’ve seen a lot of pain?” Falak asked.
I thought of Gideon’s black eye, broken rib, and bullet wound from his fight with my father’s Crown of Men on the road to Thropshire. I remembered the looks on the faces of the Fantazike men who had battled the politzen forces in Pisha. I recalled the way my own face looked in the mirror in the months after my father’s death. “I’ve seen enough.”
Not wanting to discuss my experiences with pain, I changed the subject. “What was wrong with that lion? Sher-sah, right?”
Falak nodded. “Nothing wrong with him. He was doing his job, patrolling the perimeter of the camp.”
Karolina made a rough sound deep in her throat. “Then why did he attack me?”
“His job is to keep outsiders from getting in.”
“He can tell the difference?” I asked. “He...it’s just a machine, right?”
Falak cocked a pained smile and glanced at the empty space his arm had formerly occupied. “Am I just a machine?”
“You can’t actually believe I would think that.” I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my gaze. “One mechanical arm doesn’t annul your humanity.”
He bared a cold smile at me, one that was full of teeth. “Who said it was only one mechanical arm?”
I clamped my mouth shut, uncertain as to whether I wanted him to explain what he meant. When I glanced at Karolina she screwed her lips into a sideways pucker and shrugged. I’d managed to accept the miraculous truth of Falak’s infirmity with grace. Any further revelations might have strained my daily limit for tolerating the strange and extraordinary, so I put my questions away for later.
Svieta finished doctoring Falak’s shoulder and returned her ointment jar to her bag. She drew out a device that looked like a series of monocles attached to leather straps. She adjusted the strap to fit securely over her head, holding the lenses over her right eye. After flicking a glass in place, she gathered Falak’s dismembered arm into his lap. She removed a long, pointed tool from her bag and poked the joint at the inside of the elbow. Clucking her tongue, she exchanged the lens over her eye for a different one and poked the appendage again.
Something clicked, and a plate over the biceps slid open, revealing a complicated nest of tiny gears, pulleys, levers, and cables. I leaned forward, squinting to get a better look. “An amazing feat of engineering, isn’t it?” Falak asked.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“But you’ve been aboard a Fantazike airship.”
Karolina gasped, and her eyes went big and round. “You have?”
I ignored her outburst. “Those ships work on a different set of principles. Ones that favored my particular abilities.”
Svieta stroked her chin as she selected more tools from her satchel. Again, she prodded the arm, oblivious to our conversation. Falak rubbed his wounded shoulder and pursed his lips. “How’s that?” he asked.
“The Fantazikes’ airships have engines that propel them along when the air currents are stagnant.”
“Clockwork engines? Or steam?”
“They’re fueled by lightning.”
He blinked like a startled owl. Karolina wore a similar look. “Lightning?” she asked.
“Don’t ask me how it works. I only know they have a method for capturing lightning and using it for power.”
Falak scratched the sprinkle of black whiskers growing along his jaw. “Some things are starting to make more sense.”
“There was a time when the lightning was like another body part.” I pointed to Falak’s mechanical arm in Svieta’s lap. “It was a part of me. Now it’s gone.”
“And the Fantazikes are going to help you restore it?”
“That’s my hope.”
“How did you lose it?”
I tugged at my shirt collar and glanced away. “Been asking myself that question for weeks.” Not a lie, but not the complete truth either. I now lived in a shady world that existed somewhere between ideal honor and blatant deceit. A few months ago, I might have felt worse about withholding truths, but the threat of death and enslavement had put certain things in perspective.
“Too bad you don’t have a divine tinkerer of your own.” Falak patted Svieta’s shoulder. “She can repair almost anything, but I don’t think she can fix your problem.”
“No. I don’t expect she can.” I stood and stretched until my backbones popped. Taking a hint, Karolina rose beside me. I shoved my hands in my trouser pockets and frowned. “But she can fix yours, right?”
Falak smiled, although his eyes remained dim. “I have no doubts.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
He rubbed his face, and his shoulders slumped. Exhaustion enshrouded him like a cloak. “If you’ll deal with seeing to the wayward princess, I would be most grateful.”
I bent in a casual curtsey. “Get some rest. I hope you feel better tomorrow.”
After grabbing Karolina’s arm, I tugged her out of Falak’s wagon. “It’s not only him you’d have to convince to let you stay,” I said after we’d climbed to the ground. “It’s the whole circus, and I promise you, they don’t like outsiders.”
“They don’t like you?” She snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Why are you so bitter?” I asked, my fingers still firmly locked around her upper arm. “I could be your ally. Instead, you’d rather make me your enemy.”
She switched to Inselgrish. “I don’t need the help of a homeless, destitute, powerless queen.”
I tightened my fingers. She yelped, and I yanked her closer. “You sure that’s the bet you want to make?”
“What are you talking about?” The petulance in her tone came through clearly. Her animosity was fierce, as though it were intentional. But why would she try so hard to push me away? We barely knew each other. Did her hostility toward me have something to do with Gideon?
I released her arm and stepped away. “You’re betting that things will always be as they are now. That fate won’t turn”—I snapped my fingers—“in an instant. That I’m weak, stupid, and beaten. That I’ve already surrendered.”
I turned my back on her and strode away, my footsteps sharp and heavy.
“W-where are you going?” Her confidence wavered. I heard the crack in her voice—I heard her fear.
“I’m going to bed. You can either come with me, or you can stand there until someone locks you up with Sher-sah.” I pointed at the night sky where thickening clouds and a brisk wind promised an oncoming storm. “Or, you can sleep out here in the rain.”
“What about Mika? He’s scared of storms.”
I stopped and turned around, facing Karolina’s dark shadow. “Your horse? Where is he?”
“Down the road a ways, waiting for me.”
I smeared a hand over my face and groaned. My back ached, my feet throbbed, and nothing appealed to me more than curling up on my sleeping pallet and sinking into blissful oblivion until morning. “Come on. Let’s get him put away before the rain hits. I need to check on Adaleiz anyway.”
In blessed silence, Karolina and I hiked out of the wagon train and onto the road, following the path for several dozen yards before a distinctly equine sigh gave away Mika’s presence. He spluttered and stamped at the ground, obviously excited for Karolina’s return.
“Oh, miláčku.” The princess raced forward. Ambient light from the night sky illuminated Mika’s silvery coat as Karolina threw her arms around the horse’s neck. “Omlouvám se, miláčku.”
Well, at least she’s sweet to her horse. “Did you bring any feed for him?” I asked as I joined the reunited pair.
The princess paused and cleared her throat. “Um....”
“Did you think this through at all?” A little voice in my subconscious urged me not to judge too harshly. I’d once been a naïve and spoiled princess who hadn’t known how to skin a rabbit or start a campfire. My circumstances had forced me to flee without adequate preparation, and if I hadn’t had Gideon watching out for me.... I shivered, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong. Karolina deserved at least the same consideration Gideon had given me all those months before.
Instead of berating her for her thoughtlessness, I bit my tongue and motioned for her to follow me back to the wagon train. The steady clop of Mika’s hooves on the dirt road softened the hard spots that Karolina’s earlier acerbity had formed in my heart. I’d brought enough feed to supply Adaleiz for a while, but splitting those rations with Mika would mean running out much sooner than planned, but I would never let a horse go hungry if I could help it. And if we were returning to the castle anyway...
I’d asked my previous question rhetorically, not expecting Karolina to answer, but she did, in an uncharacteristically meek tone. “No. I didn’t plan anything at all. It was impulsive, and maybe a little thoughtless, but I had to get out of there, Evie. I had to.” Her voice hardened again. “And I’m not going back. Falak is wrong. I’m not useless, and I’ll prove it to him. Then he’ll have to let me stay.”
“Even if you could change Falak’s mind, I can’t betray Tereza that way. She offered me shelter and protection. Otokar saved Gideon’s life. The least I can do in return is bring her sister safely home.”
“Even if it means Le Poing Fermé might find you?”
I stepped wrong and stumbled, falling against Mika. He snorted his displeasure. “What do you know about that?”
“The castle has ears, Evie. And not everything is always at it seems. Especially not when it comes to my sister.”
“What do you mean?”
Karolina didn’t answer, and my prodding and pleading landed on deaf ears. I gave up my inquisition, and neither of us spoke until we spotted the flickering lights of the torches burning in the circus’s camp. “I won’t go back to Prigha,” the princess said. “If you try to make me, I’ll run away again.”
Dismissing her defiance as an act of adolescent rebellion would have been easy, but that explanation didn’t sit well with me. Beneath her petulance and sarcasm, I sensed an undercurrent of something that seemed a lot like fear. “You keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. If you’re in danger—”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“No. You don’t. But I might be more inclined to help you if you did.”
“I already told you, I don’t need your help.”
“You think you don’t, but yes, you do. And you’re going to get it whether you like it or not. Or until you tell me the real reason you’re running away.” My concern for her might have appeared selfless and noble, but, truthfully, I was protecting my interests. Whatever secrets she was hiding might have had the potential to harm Marlis and Gideon. One way or another, she would have to tell me the truth. Reclaiming my powers meant nothing compared to ensuring the safety of the people I cared about most. “Promise me you’re not running away from something ridiculous.”
She sniffed. “Like what?”
“A broken heart.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
“Are Marlis and Gideon in danger?”
“Like you care. You ran away. You left them behind so you could find your ridiculous Fantazikes.”
Heat bloomed into my face, revealing my guilt. My embarrassment. My shame. “I was more of a danger to them if I stayed.”
“So, you walked out?”
I shook my head. “You don’t know what happened. You were gone before the attack.”
She froze. “What attack?”
Quickly, I summarized the story for her, starting with the awkward dinner and ending with Vanessa’s fiery attack in the labyrinth and Gideon’s injuries. The princess’s eyes went big and round as I talked. “I left him there with Otokar. He promised to try his best to heal him. It was Gideon’s only chance.”
“Do you think—” She stopped. “Will he be all right?”
“I thought he would be. Or that he stood a better chance of recovering if I left him with Otokar, but if you ran away from the castle, Gideon and his sister may be in danger after all.” Coldness stirred in my blood. I’d accused the princess of not thinking things through before she ran away, but I was also guilty of acting on impulsive urges.
“In danger from my sister? I think not. Gideon and Marlis have nothing she wants. But if Le Poing Fermé wants them badly enough, I’m not sure Tereza will have the backbone to stand up to them.”
I’d feared the same thing, but staying in Prigha would have brought them certain danger. Running was my only hope for drawing Le Poing Fermé away. I figured my plan was equally as likely to be successful as it was to fail, and that was no comfort at all.
We hiked the perimeter of the wagon train until we reached the massive set of carts where Svieta stored her mechanical menagerie. The animals’ wagons were nearly as big as the cars on a steam train. Adaleiz’s pale nose poked out from one cart’s rear window, and her nostrils flared as she scented the air. After unlatching the clasp, I hauled the double doors open, and a clockwork creature from somewhere in the gloom clacked and whirred before falling silent. Without asking, Karolina helped me unload the ramp and position it so Mika could climb aboard, and the docile horse trotted in without complaint.
After feeding the horses several fistfuls of grain and checking their water supply, we closed the wagon doors and wished them good night. “You can sleep with me in the costumes wagon,” I said, “but it’s a tight fit. Still, I guess it’s better than sleeping with a lion.”
Karolina snorted. “I just hope you don’t snore.”
