The Immortal Circus (Cirque des Immortels)

“What about the tent?” she asks, cutting me off. She steps down and the door closes behind her. “What else could possibly go wrong today?”

“There’s a rip.”

She actually flinches back at this, as though I’ve slapped her across her rouged cheekbones. One hand goes to her chest, the other reaches out and grabs me by the shirt. She pulls me in close. “Show me.”

I lead her across the grounds, over to where Kingston and Lilith are still standing. Neither of them has moved. Even Poe is transfixed by the rip.

Mab releases my shirt and steps past the two of them, one hand just barely touching the tent, her fingers flinching back as though it’s on fire. She hovers there a moment, her face unreadable, and none of us dares to breathe, let alone ask what’s going on. It’s just a fucking rip in the seam, I want to say, but clearly there’s more to it than that. Like most things in this company, I have no doubt there’s more to this than meets the eye.

“We tear down now,” Mab says. Her voice is quiet, and there’s a waver in her words. That note of fear is enough to make me believe the worst. She was calm for the murders, for the confrontation with the Summer Court’s herald. Whatever this is, it’s worse than all of that, and I have a terrible feeling it’s only the beginning of the end.

Chapter Eleven: Sooner Or Later

I can bring you somewhere safe,” she said. She offered her hand, and I took it. I don’t remember why I had been in the alley, and I don’t know what had brought me to listen to a strange woman in the middle of Detroit. All I remember is that when she smiled, I believed her. Nothing could have been worse than what lay behind me.

She led me down the street, not saying much. People passed us by with umbrellas and raincoats and didn’t look at us twice, even though we should have looked out of place. They may have been dark shadows moving through the mist and rain. But Mab and I, we were something darker, something hidden in the corners of sight. When I think back, the one thing I remember is the greyness, the melancholy, and the splash of crimson that was Mab’s dress. Then we turned the corner and stepped into another world.

The tent rose above us in the neon-lit park, all blue and wild and vibrant, Cirque des Immortels roaring in acid-green lights. It was color and sound, reds and blues and yellows, tufts of fire and spinning clubs. Music cartwheeled through the crowd that laughed and pointed in the broad avenue leading up to the tent. I stopped, speechless, and watched as giants on stilts trundled past, stared at the woman clothed in only a python standing beside a sign for a freak show. Mab put a hand on my shoulder, but she didn’t make me move. The place smelled of popcorn and cotton candy and something else, something that defied scent. Something that smelled like energy and excitement.

“Welcome,” she said. “Welcome to your new home.”

* * *

There’s a pause after Mab’s declaration. She stands there, staring at the rip in the tent, and none of us dares to breathe. Finally, she turns around and crouches low so she’s at Lilith’s level. Poe prowls around her feet, rubbing against her leather boots. She ignores him.

“Lilith, baby,” she whispers, “Auntie Mab needs you to tell the Shifters to come at once. When you’ve done that, I need you to go into my trailer with Poe and hide until I find you.”

“Hide?” Lilith says, cocking her head to one side like a broken bird.

“Yes, sweetie,” Mab says. She reaches out and pets Lilith’s head. The exchange makes me cringe. “I fear the bad man might be nearby, and we don’t want him finding you.”

She stands as Lilith scampers away, Poe at her heels. She looks at Kingston and me, takes a deep breath, and then hesitates. Mab never hesitates. Mab is assured, confident, powerful. Once more, I feel the end drawing near. In spite of the heat, my skin is covered in goose bumps. I want nothing more than to grab Kingston’s hand for support, but he still looks shell-shocked and worlds away. Besides, I can’t show weakness. Not now. Not in front of Mab.

“Kingston,” she finally says. “It is becoming increasingly clear that someone is trying to destroy us. I fear we may have a spy in our Court.” Am I imagining it, or did her eyes flicker to me? “After teardown, you will go ahead to the next site. Take no one, tell no one. Once there, you will use every enchantment at your disposal to make the ground hallowed. Do I make myself clear?”

Kingston swallows, hard, and nods.

“Vivienne,” Mab says, turning her serpent’s gaze to me. “I am putting you under surveillance. You will be placed under Penelope’s watch until this situation has been sorted and your name cleared. Yes?”

“I…” I falter under her gaze, but there’s a feeling of indignation in me that flares for just a moment. She’s the one that brought me here. She’s the one who promised I’d be safe. And now I’m the one she suspects is behind all this? “Why?”

Mab takes one slow, dangerous step forward. She is taller than me by only a few inches, but her anger makes her taller.

“Given your past,” she says with a decided twist to the word, “you are a suspect individual.” Her eyes bore into me, and I have the sense she’s seeing something I can’t. Memories seep into my head, the color red on my knees the day she led me here, the feeling of needing to run, to get as far away as fast as I could. I clench my fists. Was I running from myself?

Then she steps aside and begins to walk away and the train of thought derails into nothingness. “Besides,” she says, not even turning back. “Lilith has already told me you were sneaking around last night. If you don’t want to be a suspect, I propose you refrain from suspicious activities.”

The fire in me wants to run after her, wants to grab her arm and demand she tell me what the hell she’s talking about. But before I can make what would probably be the worst — and last — mistake of my life, Kingston puts his hand on my shoulder and the rage dies down.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Let’s get out of here before the Shifters arrive.”

With that, he draws me away from the tent and leads me toward the pie cart.

* * *

“I always find problems are easier to deal with over coffee,” he says, handing me a mug. I didn’t miss the slight hand-wave over the rim as he passed it over, so I’m more than suspicious as I take a sip. Unlike the last time he magically spiked my drink, this one doesn’t taste like battery acid. I try not to wince as I take a few long gulps, hoping either the caffeine or magical alcohol helps settle my nerves. Neither does.

“What was she talking about?” I finally ask. “What did she mean, given my past? ”

I watch Kingston as I ask this and can’t help but notice that he’s studiously looking away.

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “It’s your past, after all.” Maybe I’m just getting better at lying or he’s getting worse, but I have no doubt whatsoever that he isn’t telling me the truth.

Up until then, it hadn’t really bothered me that I couldn’t dredge up the details of my past. It was one of those things that just seemed better not to think about: high school, sitting bored in math class, driving lessons, summers at the public pool or playing video games. It was all there, but it was all coated over, hazy almost. And as far as I was concerned, that was probably a good thing. The trouble was, it was all so plain, so generic; there was nothing there that would make someone suspicious of me.

Except for those times when, looking back, I could have sworn there was blood on my jeans the day Mab found me. Blood that wasn’t mine. But even that memory is slippery. Maybe it was just a dream.

I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes. There are worse fates than being put with Penelope for a few days. Much better than a sword through the gut or half-decapitation. At least, that’s what I try to convince myself. Some doubt lingers in the back of my head, though. What if it was me? The deaths happened at night…what if I sleepwalked or was under a spell or something?

A moment later there’s a hand on my arm, and then Kingston’s leaning in. He smells like cologne and coffee, a mix that’s oddly comforting.