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Chapter 26

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Jackie and his fellow Magicians—five in all—raised their hands. The edges of the clearing, from ground to sky, undulated like the surface of a puddle disturbed by a breeze, and the air rippled with the sheen of a soap bubble. Then, everything and everyone inside that bubble disappeared, including the princess.

Stunned, I gasped and scanned my surroundings, searching for something, anything that might tell me what had happened and what I should do next, but the circus troupe had retreated the moment Jackie’s barrier went up. Only Falak remained, and he raced toward me, his dark eyes wide and brimming with fear.

“What now?” he asked, pausing to draw a breath. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

I shook my head and stepped closer to where I’d last seen the princess. Another step forward, and my foot struck an indistinguishable obstacle. I pressed my hands against what felt like a wall of frigid air, but it refused to let me through.

Falak had caught on, and he too patted at the wall like a mime performing an invisible-box routine. “What is this?”

“Magic. Obviously.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “But what do we do about it?”

“Ask Svieta?” I fought the urge to panic. “I don’t know.”

Admitting defeat already? That’s not the Stormbourne way. I’m disappointed in you, girl.

My grandfather’s voice jolted me out of my bewilderment. “I’m not admitting defeat, but I don’t know what to do. Le Poing Fermé’s Magic is devastating. I’ve witnessed it firsthand.”

A Magician has never been stronger than a god.

“I’m not a god.”

You are so long as people worship you.

Falak’s brows drew together. He frowned as he tried to make sense my one-sided conversation.

No time for doubts, Evie.

I nodded and met Falak’s gaze. “Part two of the plan, ringmaster.”

His frown deepened as he contemplated my words. Understanding settled over him, and his grim expression lightened. He smiled. Skipping back several paces, he raised a finger. “Give me one moment, Evie. I’ve already explained to them what they need to do. I only have to give them the word.”

The ringmaster ran toward the big top while I turned my attention to the barrier before me. Already my bullet wound throbbed and ached. The pain of it weakened my knees, but I shoved aside my discomfort, doubts, and fears. Reaching deep, I collected my will and slung it like a broad net, grasping for the sky.

In my thoughts, I urged the ringmaster to hurry. This is going to take everything in me. You better be quick with the reinforcements, Falak.

Drawing energy together, I molded a bolt of lightning into a fierce missile and aimed for the Magical barrier. With a great mental heave, I sent it hurtling. The concussion of its impact threw me, and I landed hard. The back of my head struck the ground. Blinking, I struggled for breath as the sky spun overhead in a dizzying cartwheel. Blackness and stars sparkled at the edge of my vision, and the dark, hollow place in my mind roared, reminding me of how close I’d already come to dying.

“D-don’t know...how much of this...I can take,” I panted.

Jackie replied before my grandfather could. He appeared, standing over me, and gazed down with his familiar, hungry-wolf smile. A blue globe, similar to the ones Otokar had devised, bobbed beside him, casting his face in cold light. Apparently, my attack on the barrier had worked. Too bad I had nothing left for Jackie.

“What a prize you are, Evie,” he said. “Clever and strong. We’ve dampened your powers for months, and yet you’ve overcome.” His brows drew into a scowl as he lowered into a squat at my side. “I must know how you managed it.”

Ignoring the pain in my chest, I raised up on one elbow and surveyed my surroundings. The circus looked the same as before, except several wagon windows had blown out, most likely from the blast of my lightning. Genevieve stood alone, not more than two or three yards away. Her eyes flashed, but she remained silent. The spell Svieta had cast on the Thunder Cloak still concealed her identity, and she still looked like me, but my lightning assault had given me away. So much for hiding in plain sight.

I nodded at her. “Now, princess.”

She returned my nod, drew her hood over her head, and disappeared.

Jackie roared some ineffable sound and snapped his fingers. Across the clearing, Gideon stumbled out from between two wagons with a pair of cloaked Magicians following close behind, pinning his hands behind his back. Fear flashed across his face when he saw me on the ground at Jackie’s feet. “Evie!”

Jackie’s face twisted as though he’d tasted something bitter. “I know your weaknesses, Lady Thunder. You care about people. Your heart is soft, compassionate. You’ll do anything to save those you care about.” He wrapped his fingers around my upper arm and stood, jerking me to my feet.

I screeched, certain his rough handling had ripped several of my stitches. Gideon lunged, but his captors jerked his arms, pulling him back. He stumbled and fell to one knee with a grunt.

Jackie’s brow furrowed as he examined my face, my heaving chest, my clenched teeth. His face wavered, going fuzzy around the edges, and I feared losing consciousness. If I passed out, our defeat was certain. Jackie would take me away, and no telling what Le Poing Fermé would do with Gideon or Genevieve. It was my fault they were here. I wouldn’t be the reason either of my friends came to harm—Jackie was right about that much at least.

“What’s happened to you, Evelyn? Are you hurt?” His gaze dropped to the low neckline of my blouse, a thin linen shift that would have revealed too much if not for the bejeweled waistcoat keeping me modest. Jackie fingered my collar, pulling it aside. I jerked away from him, but he’d seen enough. “You’re wounded? How?”

I bared my teeth at him, refusing to answer.

He clicked his tongue. “You know I can heal you.” Pressing two fingers to my chest, he lightly touched my shirt where it lay over my wound. His pale brows drew together, and he blinked at me. He inhaled a strangled gasp. Stumbling back, he dropped my arm as though it had burned him.

Gathering my strength, feeble as it was, I raised my chin and straightened my back. “I have survived. No thanks to you and your Brigands.”

“There’s a foul Magic at play, here.” He shook his head. “Darkness. Death.” He narrowed his eyes. “It’s the same Magic that was driving that abominable beast....” He twisted his fingers as if wrenching something from the air. “Before I snuffed his life force and sent his spirit back to the Shadowlands.”

I staggered. Grief forked through me like tree roots spreading deep into the earth. Sher-sah! I clenched my jaw and snarled. “The only abominable beasts around here are you and your filthy cabal.”

Jackie raised his hand as if to strike me, but instead he balled his fingers into a fist. “Bring him here,” he shouted. “The charlatan who did this—find him and bring him to me.”

The members of the cabal not occupied with restraining Gideon bowed and peeled away, disappearing into the night shadows. A cold finger of dread swirled the contents of my gut. What would they do to Svieta if they found her?

I stepped away, seeking to gain some distance between me and Jackie. Preparing another lightning attack would require room, but did I have the strength? My mind buzzed as though dozens of voices were calling to me at once.

Falak....

He’d executed his part of the plan as promised, and so had the members of Le Cirque de Merveilles Mécanique. They owed me nothing. My presence among them had put them all in danger more than once, but there they were, lending their faith, worshiping me. Their prayers echoed in my ears, and the storms answered in kind, rumbling, roaring.

Fisting my hands at my sides, I met Jackie’s cold stare. “What did you do to my lion?”

He flinched. “Your lion?”

“You’ll pay, Jackie Faercourt. You don’t get to march into my life, destroy the ones I care about, and think you’ll get away without a reckoning.”

Thunder boomed. The wagons rattled from the concussion of soundwaves and energy. Clouds boiled like a poisonous brew, and lightning crawled through their pulsing mass like glowing veins and arteries. The circus troupe had given me enough for one more brutal attack, and I would have to make sure I used it wisely.

Jackie’s cold mask slipped, and for a moment he revealed a flash of worry. Not fear, though. Not yet. “Make no idle threats, my lady.” He pointed at Gideon still captive on the opposite side of the clearing. “Your guardian will be dead before you make your first strike.”

I spread my arms out at my side, ignoring the strain the gesture put on my injuries, and opened myself up, letting faith pour in. Channeling the circus troupe’s devotion into the skies, I fed the storms, and they increased and grew until the atmosphere looked like an ocean of black and purple rage. “Kill him, Jackie, and you’ll never have me.” I rolled my hand, and a bolt of lightning as wide as a river split the sky. “I’ll destroy us all if I have to. It’s the price I’m willing to pay to make sure your plan never succeeds.”

When Gideon and I’d played prist that night in the empress’s apartment, I’d learned winning depended on two factors: luck and a talent for bluffing. Defeating Jackie would require an identical set of factors. Falak had once accused me of being too straightforward and plainspoken to be a convincing actor. In any other circumstance, he would have been right, but success in this moment depended on my ability to convince Jackie I was committed to executing every threat and promise I had made. I hoped that during the last two weeks I’d spent among them, some of Falak’s and Genevieve’s talent for showmanship had worn off on me.

I watched as a shadow of doubt crossed Jackie’s face. His brow furrowed, and he blinked.

His hesitation will be his doom, my grandfather hissed.

I spread my feet, bracing myself, and slashed a hand through the space between Jackie and me. At the same time, he cried out in a foreign tongue and crooked his fingers into a strange configuration. I looked across the clearing, caught Gideon’s gaze, and nodded as another rippling, shimmering barricade fell over Jackie, a barrier clearly meant to protect him from the lighting.

A bolt of energy streaked from the sky—

—and struck the ground at Gideon’s feet, or where his feet had been only moments before he’d disappeared.

When my vision recovered from the explosion of light, the two Magicians who had held Gideon captive were crumpled to the ground. Gideon was on his knees, arms wrapped protectively over his head, and Genevieve stood beside him, the Thunder Cloak unfastened to reveal her presence. I’d once told Gideon the cloak had many tricks up its sleeves. I hadn’t been lying. She bent and tugged a weapon from beneath one of the fallen Magicians: Sephonie, Gideon’s crossbow.

Gideon looked up, flashed a gesture indicating he was all right, and scrambled to his feet.

I waved at the princess. Keep him safe, Genevieve.

Jackie’s barricade fell, and he lurched toward me, muttering.

I extended my will again, gathering energy for another attack. Jackie was losing, but he wasn’t one to easily admit defeat. As I reached for another lightning bolt, he lunged, tossing his hands out as if throwing a pail of water at me. It wasn’t water, though. It was pain—the same mind-crushing agony Ruelle Thibodaux had used to keep me imprisoned in his home.

I nearly bit my tongue in two as my teeth clenched. I dropped to my knees then to the ground.

“Faercourt!’ Gideon yelled, his voice cutting through the swirling vortex of anguish in my head. “Let her go.”

The pain eased, and I blinked until the blackness faded from my vision. Gideon stood a few yards away with his arm raised, pointing Sephonie at Jackie’s head. The Magician raised his hands, splayed his fingers wide, and went still. Yet his silver eyes seemed to swirl with malevolent Magic.

I pushed myself to my knees and grunted. Genevieve appeared at my side and latched onto my arm, steadying me as I rose. “The lengths you’ll go through to claim me for your own wicked schemes...” I shook my head. “You called Sher-sah an abomination.” I hacked a wad of phlegm and spat it at Jackie’s feet. “What a hypocrite you are, Jackie Faercourt.”

A cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips—so beautiful, yet so wicked. “What a waste, Evie. All that fierceness and strength, and it’s so misplaced.” He jerked his chin toward Gideon. “What will you do with me, now, Sir Faust? Kill me in cold blood?”

“Stop!” A shout rose from behind us—a familiar voice. I was too afraid of letting Jackie out of my sight to turn around and see who else had arrived at our macabre gathering, but the speaker’s next words confirmed his identity.

“Magicians are not judged by mortal standards.” Otokar’s voice came nearer. A collection of clattering footsteps approached, sounding like a small herd of armored soldiers. Soldiers from the empress’s royal guard, if I had to guess. “Faercourt must stand before the Council of Magic for the crimes he has committed, including the attack he ordered on guests of Prigha castle, as well as jeopardizing the safety of her sister, the princess of Bonhemm, by attacking her today without provocation or cause.”

The empress’s royal Magician strode into my line of vision and stopped beside Genevieve. His black robes swirled about his legs. The breeze stirred his dark, wavy hair. From the corner of my eye, I watched for the princess’s reaction. Her face gave away nothing, but she stiffened, and her grip on my arm tightened. One problem at a time, princess.

“The empress demands justice for these offenses.” Otokar flicked his fingers, and Tereza’s guards hustled to surround the members of Le Poing Fermé who still lay insensible on the ground at the opposite side of the circus’s encampment. The Magicians Jackie had sent in search of Svieta came stumbling out from between two wagons. A pair of the empress’s guards followed close behind, pistols aimed and ready.

“This isn’t mortal judgment.” Gideon nodded at me. “Evie is a goddess, unless you’ve forgotten. It’s her right. Faercourt has committed several offenses against her as well.”

“Otokar,” I said, biting back a smirk. “Your presence here is uncanny. It’s almost as if you’ve been watching us.”

He snorted. “You knew I was. The princess has been invisible to me for days, and then she suddenly reappeared in my scryings. I was afraid you had set a trap for us, but I miscalculated the nature of your prey.”

“It’s an honor that you would make an appearance yourself. I was certain you were tracking her from the safety of your laboratory.”

He hacked in his throat, a sound of disdain. “And take the chance of losing her again? Hardly.”

I looked away from Jackie long enough to glance at Genevieve. She’d gone pale, but fingered the clasp at the neck of her Thunder Cloak. Regret and grief burned in my stomach as though I’d swallowed some bitter, medicinal brew. I was going to miss my beloved cloak. The princess caught my stare and held it. I winked at her and nodded. Her relief was instant, and her stiff posture eased. She might have fled with my cloak regardless of my consent, but having my approval obviously eased her guilt. How could I have denied her? Her survival was almost as important to me as my own.

“If I release Faercourt into your control,” I said, “what guarantee do I have that he won’t be a dog nipping at my heels again soon after. Will this Council merely slap his wrist and set him loose on the world again? I can’t take that risk.”

“And I can make no promises.” Otokar raised one long finger. “However, I can tell you that if you do not give him to me, the Council will be that dog at your heels. Le Poing Fermé is fierce. The Council is fiercer.” Jackie snorted at that, but Otokar continued, ignoring his mockery. “If I am not mistaken, my lady, you need allies. Believe me when you say you would rather have the Council on your side.”

I gritted my teeth hard enough to make my jaw ache. The fervor of battle had died, and any aggression against Jackie at that point would, indeed, be considered cold-blooded and brutal. Was that the reputation I wished to establish at the beginning of my quest to restore my throne?

If you start on that road, Granddaughter, your life will become a never-ending battle. You’ll have to fight to the blood for each gain you wish to make. Offer diplomacy instead, and you may receive equivalent considerations in the future, when you need them most.

Give mercy if you wish to also receive it.

I’d come to a similar conclusion myself. With a jerk of my chin, I conceded. “Take him, then. But you can tell your Council that if the captain of my guard”—I pointed at Gideon—“or I, set eyes on Jackie or any member of his cabal again, we’ll consider it a hostile act and respond accordingly.” Jackie might have been subdued for the time being, but Ruelle Thibodaux was as entirely dedicated to executing Le Poing Fermé’s schemes as Jackie had been. The cabal’s momentum had been temporarily stalled, but not defeated.

“Then it is agreed.” Otokar nodded and flicked his fingers. Two soldiers scurried to take Jackie into their possession, locking brass cuffs around his wrists before grasping him firmly by his upper arms.

Gideon glowered at the cuffs. “You think those are enough to hold him?”

Otokar’s chin jerked up. He peered down his nose “Those are not regular bindings. Those were designed to make a Magician impotent. He will be harmless.”

“Don’t underestimate him.” I slit my eyes at Jackie, and he returned my gaze boldly, a smirk playing on his lips. “He’s sly and devious.”

“He’ll be closely guarded until he’s in the Council’s custody.” Otokar jerked his head, and the soldiers towed Jackie away.

I released a huge breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The clouds overhead immediately thinned. The winds eased. “What about Gen—Karolina? What are you plans for her?”

Otokar glanced at the subject of my inquiry and frowned. “She’ll return to the castle with me, of course. Tereza will be anxious to have her home.”

I twisted my lips into a wry grimace. Good luck with that. I hated leaving Genevieve to execute this part of our plan on her own—securing her own escape using the Thunder Cloak—but she’d have a better chance at success if I played along and did nothing to raise Otokar’s suspicions. We had to appear complicit. We had to get him to let down his guard.

She would escape. She would fend for herself. She was a survivor, like me.

Otokar bent a brief bow in my direction. “The empress wishes to extend her invitation to you. She bids you to return to the castle as her guest for as long as you wish to stay. Despite many unfortunate turns of events, she bodes you no ill will and hopes you feel the same.”

My stomach turned over as I considered Tereza’s offer, but I thought again about my grandfather’s counsel regarding diplomacy. “Tell the empress I’m grateful for her invitation, but I must decline. I’ve made other arrangements and won’t be returning to the east for some time.”

He cocked his head aside and scanned our surroundings as if noticing the wagons and tents for the first time. “You are staying with the circus?”

“For now.” Giving away my plans invited too much interference, especially if it increased the chances of Jackie learning of my intent to train with the Fantazikes. Only those I trusted needed to know the details, and I didn’t trust the empress or her Magician. I bobbed a curtsey, turned to Genevieve, and drew her into a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, princess. Promise to take care of yourself.”

She squeezed me back. “Of course I will. Promise me the same.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Gideon looking after me, right?” I pulled away and stared into her dark eyes. “I hope to see you again soon.”

She winked and lowered her voice. “Maybe sooner than you think.”

Biting back a smile, I released her and stepped away. “Take care of her, Otokar. She’s my friend and a great ally. I want to see her happy. And safe.”

A subtle flinch of facial features indicated the Magician’s discomfort at my words, but he quickly masked it. “She’ll be spoiled, of course.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes, but when two more guards from Otokar’s retinue flanked her sides, she allowed them to escort her away. I waved goodbye. It’s not the end, my friend.

Movement around the periphery of the circus grounds caught my attention. The circus troupe trickled into camp like mice returning to forage in the kitchen after the cat has been put outside. The storm’s disappearance and the quiet after a raging battle had likely piqued their curiosity. Falak strode toward us, head up, back straight, exuding his usual confidence. He briefly glanced at me before his eyes tracked the Bonhemmish Royal Guards’ departure.

The troupe rode out on horseback, except for Otokar, who had taken Genevieve and Jackie into his big black coach. The other members of Le Poing Fermé were bound, gagged, and distributed among the guards, where they were forced to ride in tandem. Genevieve’s horse trailed behind the troupe, flicking his tail as though eager to run.

The ringmaster folded his arms over his chest and snorted. “The princess is coming back, isn’t she? She still owes me a show tomorrow night.”

I snorted at him. “Priorities, right?”

“I’m a business man, Evie.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “It’s all about the bottom line. That girl has the potential to make my accounts very comfortable.”

“Right. Business.” I rolled my eyes. There was nothing businesslike about the faith and prayers of his troupe. Their belief had saved me. It was a debt I could never repay. “If I were you, I’d have Ynnua saddled and ready to go. She’s got the Thunder Cloak and a strong will. We have to believe in her.”

My wound throbbed mercilessly and the beginnings of a bad headache pounded in my temples, but rest would have to wait. I scrubbed my hands over my face and stiffened my shoulders. Now for the really hard part.

“Where are you going?” Gideon asked as I headed for the exterior of the circus’s encampment.

A hot, dry lump had risen in my throat, preventing me from answering. As if sensing my distress, he said nothing more, but he grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers between mine. We squeezed between two wagons and stepped into the open field on the other side. Looking left, I found nothing out of the ordinary. But when I looked right, the lump in my throat gave way to a sob. My knees buckled. Gideon caught me and held me steady until I recovered enough to stumble to Sher-sah’s side.

Svieta knelt on the ground beside the lion, stroking his huge paw. At least one of them had managed to survive Le Poing Fermé’s attack. Svieta was certainly the more valuable of the two, but seeing her well and unharmed did little to lessen the dread chilling my blood.

Sher-sah lay in on his side, unmoving. Too still. Too quiet. Dropping to my knees, I draped myself over his cold brass body and listened, pressing my ear against his side. Nothing answered—no echo of breath, no subtle purr. Devoid of spirit, he was a lifeless, empty statue. He’d never really been alive; so how could he be dead? My heavy heart twisted, straining against its confinement. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I studied Svieta’s somber expression. Her attention was focused on the lion, but she muttered something in a low voice that sounded stressed and tired.

“She says you shouldn’t grieve him too much,” Falak said. Only then did I realize the ringmaster had followed us. “He had two lives. That’s more than most of us get.”

“But he gave one of them up protecting me.” I sniffled and rubbed my nose across my shirt cuff. Gideon crouched beside me and stroked my back. “That’s not a debt I’ll easily forget. I owe so many. The list keeps getting longer.”

Falak asked something in Svieta’s language. The old woman replied. “I asked if she could fix him, bring him back to life. She said she wasn’t sure. Finding Sher-sah’s particular spirit again might be beyond her abilities.”

A tiny spark of hope flared to life inside me. I sat up and wiped my face. “But will she try?”

Falak translated my question. The tinkerer met my stare and held it for a moment. Briefly, she nodded before muttering something else.

“She says she will, but she makes no promises.”

I took Gideon’s hand. “I’ve made a lot of bets today, and most of them paid off.” I stroked his knuckles and looked at him through my lashes. “I wonder if I’d be pressing my luck if I made a couple more.”

He bent and pressed a kiss to my fingers. He tugged me to my feet and folded his arms around me. “A couple more?” he asked.

I nodded against his chest. His arms were warm, and the beat of his heart beneath my ear was steady and reassuring. If he’d let me, I could stay wrapped up in him forever. “Three more, in fact.”

“We’ve come this far with only a few casualties, but it could have been so much worse. What more can you ask for?”

I paused, considering those same casualties: Gideon’s fiery near-death experience, losing Stefan in the fight with the Brigands, taking a bullet to my chest and getting a new heart driven by my grandfather’s spirit, and losing Sher-sah.... Perhaps he was right. What more could I ask for? What else could I risk?

I bit my lip and held my breath.

Gideon exhaled. “I can feel the gears spinning in your head. Let’s hear it. What are your last three wagers of the day?”

“The first is that I bet Svieta will fix Sher-sah as good as new. Second, I bet Genevieve gets away from Otokar and returns to the circus in time to perform tomorrow night.”

He chuckled, and it reverberated under my ear, reminding me of Sher-sah’s purr. “Those sound reasonable. What’s the third?”

I sagged against him, letting my legs go limp. “I bet I fall asleep tonight way before you do.”

Gideon barked a sharp laugh, swooped me up in his arms, and carried me into the heart of the circus’s camp. “I don’t know about the first two, but I think your odds are good. The last bet, though, you’ve already won.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m not closing my eyes again until we’re safely aboard the Tippany’s airship.” He set me on my feet at the steps of the costumes wagon. “Get inside before Falak catches up to you. I’m sure he has a million more questions. I’ll do my best to intercept them.”

I leaned in and hugged him again. “Good night, Gideon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He cupped my chin, raised my face, and pressed his lips against mine for a sweet, brief kiss. “Good night, my Lady of Thunder. I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.”