There was a loud bang, and Rora opened her eyes.
“Get up.” A masked watchman hefted an electric lantern at the threshold of her room. “You’ve been summoned.”
In his other hand, he held a baton. The threat was as plain as a Black Hole. Calls from additional watchmen echoed down the hallway as other performers were roused from their rooms.
Standing, Rora rubbed her eyes. As she did, she noticed for the first time the second masked watchman in her doorway held a key. Had they unlocked her bedroom door? No one was supposed to have keys to the dormitories other than the performers themselves.
What else has the Mistress lied to us about?
Normally, she didn’t think much of the watchmen’s attire. But as she studied the usual black pants and button-up shirt with two pistols strapped to his back and a sword at one hip, she couldn’t help but notice how heavily armed they were for a circus guard. Not to mention, they never stepped out of line and never spoke to the performers outside of what was strictly necessary to perform their job. Ever.
How much did the Mistress pay the hired soldiers for their obedience? It had to be a hefty paycheck to wordlessly usher cyborgs to their deaths.
Rora slipped into her shoes.
Since the first competition, she’d slept in her performance gear every single night. She refused to be caught off guard a second time. Therefore, she didn’t hurry to grab clothes and get dressed as the watchmen ushered her out into the hallway.
Dozens of other performers filtered out of their rooms in the dormitory wing and joined Rora in the hallway. Everyone had the same question on their lips.
Was the second competition about to begin?
“Can it be time already?” Akio whispered as he and Marzanna joined Rora in the hallway. “I swear, it’s only been… what? Two weeks since the last contest?”
Dread weighted Rora’s tongue, and she couldn’t reply.
“It’s my turn,” Marzanna said to Akio as they neared the theater. “You competed in the first competition. I should go this time.”
Akio shook his head. “Not with your foot. That’s the worst idea I’ve heard all day.”
Rora’s brows furrowed. “The day just started.”
Marzanna stifled a chuckle as the performers around them fell into a strange, hushed silence.
“Regardless,” Akio whispered. “I can compete again. You’re my only family. Let me do this.”
But even as he spoke, Rora could see sweat beading on his temples.
They’d never spoken about what they’d had to do during the first competition, but she knew the obstacle course had deeply distressed her friend.
She swallowed thickly.
The last competition had brought about the death of three cyborgs. What could possibly be in store for them today? Who would meet their end at the hands of the competition—and the tinkerer who took their parts?
The hands I want all over me, she thought, and then shook herself. Focus.
“No,” Marzanna said firmly. “You went last time. It’s my turn to face the crazy.”
Reluctantly, Akio nodded.
When they entered the theater, Celeste Beckett, the Mistress of Cirque du Borge and Keeper of Beasts, stood at center stage and watched the performers as they were ushered into the room. Although it took a while for the performers to filter into the theater, there were noticeably fewer people than there had been a few weeks ago.
Watchmen stationed themselves around the theater at the exits.
“Welcome to the second competition.” Celeste crossed her arms, the tight leather jacket creasing as she tapped her red-manicured nails against her lower lip. She was dressed in black leather from neck to toes, her heeled leather boots impractical for anyone—especially the Keeper of Beasts. Rumor had it she used her heels to keep misbehaving animals in check.
Why was she introducing this particular competition?
Matthieu Eaves, the set designer, had introduced the first competition, which had been an obstacle course of his making. What could the second competition involve? Something with animals?
The doors to the theater slammed shut, echoing in the room as whispers tapered off. All eyes were on center stage.
“The first competition tested your agility. Now, your determination will be put to the test.” Celeste’s eyes swept over the room. “For this competition, performers have a single objective: to locate and bring back the red dragon.”
The silence that fell was deafening. It was so complete that Rora heard the distinct patter of water hitting the floor.
As though someone had just wet themselves.
Fear knotted her stomach. This was utter madness and worse than the first competition. Dragons regularly attacked the city of Apparatus. Half of the time, citizens were putting out fires and repairing buildings the dragons destroyed during raids. How in the galaxy were a bunch of performers supposed to capture a wild dragon?
“Like cyborgs, the dragons have been misunderstood,” Celeste continued.
I’ll say.
“They have been exiled to the planet of Grandstand, same as us. But now we are going to bring them into the fold.
“The dragon lives in a cave on the tallest mountain beyond the forest. Your job is to subdue the creature and bring it back. The performer who brings it back alive wins.
“There are no official teams. But given the nature of this competition and the challenges you will face, any performers who work together to bring the dragon back will not be selected for the lottery and be allowed a shared victory.
“In addition, you are to select a single representative from your acts to participate in today’s competition. It may be the same performer as last time or someone else. But one cyborg must go on behalf of the act, and everyone will share their fate.
“As was the case for the first competition, you will be judged by the show management team. The losing performers will have their names entered into the lottery, and thirteen acts will be selected for contract termination.
“Once the thirty-six performers have been selected to participate in the competition, you will exit the building and receive your supplies. The dragon’s cave is less than a day’s march from here. Watchmen will then escort you to the forest at the edge of the city, after which time you have until sunset tomorrow to bring it here.”
The Mistress paused, studying the audience with narrowed eyes. “Should any of you be tempted not to return, remember that the remaining performers from your respective acts will automatically have terminated contracts and be selected for harvesting. And if you are found in my city… you will wish for a swift end.”
Celeste waved a hand to the opening doors at the back of the theater. “Break a leg.”
For a moment, Rora struggled to breathe as her head swam. She couldn’t think, let alone move. It felt as though her feet had been replaced with cinder blocks.
Sensing this, Marzanna grabbed Rora’s elbow, pulling her toward the open doors. “Come on. Now is not the time to lose your shit. We have a competition to win.”
Rora spared a glance back toward Akio, who was being ushered with the other performers who weren’t competing back toward the hallways.
“Good luck,” he mouthed.
Rora could only manage a nod. Her heart thudded a rapid melody to what must surely be her death march. In the first competition, she’d couldn’t even pass Abrecan to climb up the rope. How was she supposed to stand up to a dragon that had to be two or three times Abrecan’s size?
The dragons of legend had supposedly been the size of war ships. The ones that remained today were little more than the size of two lions in length.
Still, it was big enough to kill her.
Once the thirty-six performers exited the theater, the doors were rolled back down and locked in place.
Watchmen passed out boots, jackets, and backpacks. When Rora received her backpack, she glanced inside, noting water, food supplies, and… Was that climbing gear? There was rope, grappling hooks, and other supplies she couldn’t identify.
By the looks of what was in the bag, the circus wasn’t concerned about the performers spending a night in the wilderness. Had the dragon killed off most of the predators?
Heels tapped against cobblestones, and Celeste emerged from a side door of the theater, coming to stand before them.
“One more thing,” Celeste began. “Due to the dangerous nature of this particular competition, the show management team has revised how contracts will be terminated for the remainder of the competitions. Should any of you die in the attempt of capturing the dragon, your performance act will automatically be selected for termination—so long as the bodies are brought back or located by our cleanup crew. If thirteen people lose their lives to this competition, there will be no lottery in this round. Understood?”
Across the group of thirty-six performers, dozens of eyes widened.
But Abrecan… he smiled, his gaze shifting to Rora and Marzanna.
Celeste had just given Abrecan and his followers a reason to pick them off one by one.
The performers shouldered packs and followed the line of watchmen into the palace’s courtyard. At the gate, there was a table of weapons, consisting of bows, swords, and spears.
Pushing forward, Abrecan grabbed a bow as tall as he was and a matching set of arrows. The other performers rushed the table afterward. By the time Rora and Marzanna made it to the front, there were two spears left. Two spears to protect them from the dragon and whatever else might be lurking in the forest—human or beast.
Fantastic.
As they walked toward the outskirts of the city, surrounded by watchmen, the sun crept above the horizon.
I can’t give up now. There are only two competitions left.
She was so close to meeting the emperor and fulfilling her lifelong dream of securing patronage. Two more competitions, and she’d be home free. Soon, she would prove to everyone she was the best performer at Cirque du Borge. And with the way things were going with Gwen, she might have a new hand in no time, too.
But she couldn’t help the feeling that the tinkerer had Rora wrapped around her finger, rather than the other way around. After Gwen had showed up at Rora’s room and explained what had happened at the ball, Rora hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.
Forcing the beautiful tinkerer from her thoughts, Rora tried to focus on what lay ahead.
Thinking fast, she came up with a desperate plan.
Slowly, she made her way over to a small group of acrobats who weren’t allied with Abrecan or his followers.
“Join us,” she whispered. “Our odds are better together than apart.”
“Our odds suck,” Sara, one of the acrobats, said.
“Better than each of us individually against a dragon.” Rora watched Abrecan strut confidently at the head of the group beside the watchmen. “At the very least, we can watch each other’s backs until we make it to the cliffs.”
There weren’t official teams, but it couldn’t hurt to form alliances with other performers. Even if they did somehow manage to subdue the dragon, Rora and Marzanna would be hard-pressed to bring it back to Apparatus—awake or unconscious. Not to mention, the dragon wasn’t the only beast in these parts.
Sara remained silent for an impossibly long time.
“Fine,” she said at last. “We’ll join you as we travel through the forest. But when it comes to the dragon, I’ll fight you for it. I’m not coming back without that scaly beast.”
Rora nodded. “We’ll see.”
When they neared the city’s limit, she slowed, her friends and new allies doing likewise. Abrecan and his followers went ahead of them into the line of trees. She’d need to keep them where she could see them. She didn’t fancy an arrow between her shoulders.
Before he disappeared, Abrecan turned around and smiled broadly at her. Then he strode into the forest, the others in his group yipping and cheering like wild dogs.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Everyone, keep your eyes peeled and stay alert. We have more than just animals to worry about in this forest.”
Sara sniffed. “They are animals.”
Rora shifted her pack. “No arguments there. But to beat them, we might have to be animals, too.”
She wondered just what she’d do in the name of self-preservation—and to achieve her dream of patronage.
Taking a deep breath, she strode ahead of the group and into the forest.
It was time to find a dragon.