The Immortal Circus (Cirque des Immortels)

“What do you mean?” he asks. He pulls his hand back and the sensation goes away, though now the pain isn’t as bad.

“Last night,” I say. I try to think back, but it’s mostly a blur. I just remember him in the trailer and Senchan and Mab in the headlights. Something about Lilith…a flash of pain makes me wince. I close my eyes and burrow my face into the pillow.

“What about last night?” he asks. His words are slow. Deliberate.

“You were hurt,” I mumble, leaning my head to the side. It feels like trying to string together a dream from two weeks ago. I know it’s there, but I can’t bring it up. “After…after the guy from the Summer Court took you. You said he took your magic.” It even sounds stupid once I say it.

He takes a deep breath but doesn’t speak.

“What?” I say. Maybe I’m still asleep. Maybe that’s why everything’s slurring together in my brain.

“You really don’t remember?” he asks.

“Remember what?” The memories are swirling along with the trailer now. The last thing I want to do is try to remember anything but the solidity of this bed.

“Last night…gods, I can’t believe this.” Another deep breath on his part, and I look up in time to see him press his face into his palms, like he’s about to deliver a death sentence. “You passed out last night.”

“I figured,” I mumble, trying to motion to the bed but failing. Even thinking of moving a limb hurts. “But I saw….”

“Honey,” he says, and he reaches down to pull the covers off me. Honey. The word makes me melt. “You nearly died last night.” I look down to where he’s pointing. There, on my calf, are two red scabs, the skin around them puffy and pink. “You were bitten by a rattlesnake a few minutes after getting out of the truck.”

“But the Summer Court guy. Senchan.”

He pulls the covers back over my leg and gives me a no-nonsense sort of stare.

“Who’s Senchan? You must have hallucinated. You got out of the truck and were bitten by a rattlesnake. Then you started convulsing and passed out. Everyone saw it.” There’s a finality to his words that make the room stop spinning. Only I know that’s not what happened. I think I know that’s not what happened… Right?

“But...” My thoughts are racing, burning like wildfire. “The fire. Lilith.” My head throbs. “Lilith set everything on fire.”

“Lilith’s just a little girl,” Kingston says. “I’m the only one with any real magic in this troupe. There was a fire, yes. But that was the bonfire the Shifters had last night — some embers set part of the field on fire. I put it out.”

“But — “

“You passed out, Vivienne. I’ve never seen someone have such a bad reaction to snake venom.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he’s looking out the window.

“Last night was a shit show,” he says, finally. “But what you’re talking about never happened.”

“I saw you,” I say. I push myself up even though it hurts like hell. That inner fire is back. I know it wasn’t a hallucination. He had been held captive. I fought for him. I saw it. “He had a knife to your throat. You were bleeding and helpless because he took your magic.”

Kingston leans in close and lifts his chin to the ceiling. His skin is perfectly smooth.

“See?” he says. “No blood, no cut.” He looks down at me and tries to smile. It’s almost successful, too, but there’s a waver in his eyes, an uncertainty. He’s lying. “I wasn’t in danger,” he says. “But it’s kind of cute that you think I could have been. Did you save me? In your dream?”

He’s close, oh, so close, but right now, I just want to smack him. I lie back down instead and stare up at the ceiling. When I close my eyes, my memories sift around. I still remember him in the headlights, his face pale and terrified. I still remember Mab confronting Senchan, and I remember meeting Lilith in Kingston’s trailer. Taking her hand. I swear I remember it, even though it’s blurring around the edges, fading the more I hold it up for examination.

And there’s another memory, a shadow of doubt. I remember the sharp pain in my ankle as I walked to join the troupe at the bonfire. I remember the pain, the nausea and spasms, as the world spun and fell away. I squeeze my eyes tighter and bring a hand to my forehead, try to block out the images. What I saw — Senchan, Kingston, Lilith — had to have been real. It had to. So why is the rattle of the snake I stepped on just as real? Why is that pain just as sharp?

“You need to sleep,” Kingston says. I don’t open my eyes, but I hear him stand. He puts a hand on the side of my face. His touch is still cool, even if there’s no real magic in it now. I can feel his fingertips shaking. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Then he leaves, the door clicking quietly shut behind him.

I’m not okay. Not even close to okay. I’m on another fucking planet from okay. But for the first time in a long time, I’m beginning to doubt if he’d be able to make it better.

He’s lying. But why? Why would he lie to me?

I thought he was on my side.

Now I’m wondering if that was the biggest lie of all.

* * *

I don’t sleep.

I have this terrible feeling that the moment I close my eyes, the truth — my truth — will fade away like a dream. It’s easy to believe I made it all up. The pain in my ankle is real enough, and the more I let it, the more the memory of being bitten becomes tangible. I just don’t want it to be real. The memory of the confrontation is taking on the same hazy feel as everything else in my past. So I keep my eyes open and watch a few bands of sunlight slide down the wall of my room. I consider standing up, but the bite burns like acid. I don’t move except to get more comfortable. I try not to think of having to pee.

The door opens a few hours after Kingston’s departure, when the sun is turning the inside of my bunk pink. I glance up, both hoping and not hoping it’s him. Instead, it’s Penelope. I sink back down into the mattress and try not to frown.

“How are you feeling?” she asks. Her voice is barely a whisper.

“Better,” I say, which is true. Physically, at least. My head doesn’t hurt nearly as much and the ankle is just a throb. I’m still holding the memory of Kingston in danger like a sanity anchor. I can’t let it go. I can’t let myself believe I’m delusional. Sanity is about the only thing I have going for me anymore, and even that's not saying much.

She walks over to the desk beside my bed and sets a tray down. There’s a steaming bowl, a mug, and a few thick slices of bread. The sight of it makes me want to gag. How can they expect me to do something as normal as eat when everything in my life is spinning upside down?

“A simple meal,” she says, noticing my glance. “We don’t want to add any more poisons to your system.”

“Thanks,” I say. I force myself into sitting up and she places the tray in my lap. I pick up the spoon but don’t start eating. The scent makes me nauseated. She’s still standing there, watching.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

I open my mouth, almost tell her the truth, that I feel like my brain’s been put through a blender and the people I trust are out to get me. I don’t. Never trust the gossip queen. High school taught me that.

I think.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Just…beat.”

She nods. “Well, I’m just glad you’re all right. If you need anything, my trailer’s parked right across from yours.”

I laugh weakly. “So I’m still under your watch?”

“Yes,” she says. “So it would seem. Get better soon. I know Richard and Vanessa were hoping to up your training this site.”

“Right,” I say. “That.” I’ve completely lost track of the days. Is it tomorrow I’m meant to be onstage? Or sometime after?

Penelope doesn’t say anything. She just looks me over one more time, opens her mouth like she wants to