It was surprisingly easy. His face was alight, shedding years of care and she could suddenly seem him as a dashing young showman, dressed in tights and a swirling cloak, stealing the hearts of all the women with his magical feats and athletic derring-do.
In the center ring there was a romantic aerial ballet going on, with moody lights and contemplative music.
Music that allowed uneasy memories rise to be examined in a less hurtful light. Bursting pin bubbles of a regret you could savor and enjoy like a rare and effervescent wine. The kind of wine once tasted with a lover. And you remembered its flavor like you remembered the touch of his body.
She imagined Safar, innocent and free. A handsome young performer whose eyes were only on her as he moved from one seductive act to the next.
And she had the dreamy thought: I'd have liked to have known him then. Who knows? Perhaps things would have worked out differently.
Then the music made a sharp change and two clowns rushed out into the center ring.
And Leiria snorted, thinking, Will you be serious, woman! When Safar came into your arms it was to mourn Methydia.
Methydia!
Your first dead rival.
And the damned owner of this circus!
Methydia had not only been Safar's lover but his teacher as well-as only a skilled older woman can teach a young man.
For a fleeting moment Leiria imagined she was a wise, gray-haired beauty, coiling around a youthful Safar.
Then she laughed aloud at herself. No one noticed. They were too busy howling at the clowns-Arlain chasing Biner about the ring, shooting sheets of fire at the seat of his pants.
Leiria joined in, laughing at Biner's comic yelps and leaps, letting the circus take her away.
Palimak stood before his new goddess, blushing and gulping and wishing mightily that he knew a spell to untie his tongue so he could speak.
Arlain looked down at him, a delighted smile lighting her dragon's face. 'My goodneth,' she lisped.
'You're tho handthome! Jutht like Thafar!'
Palimak's tongue came unstuck. 'I'm not really his son,' he said to his instant humiliation and regret. He thought, what a stupid, stupid, thing to say! Not his son! What must she think of me?
They were in the wardrobe tent, a warren of trunks and costumes and circus props, with a long bank of mirrored makeup tables on one side cluttered with cosmetics and paints and colorful masks. Safar and Leiria were at the far end of the tent, surrounded by Biner and the other members of the circus. It was a glad reunion and there was much laughter and drinking and shouted remembrances of shared adventures on the road.
A moment before Palimak had been safely buried in the middle of that chaos, much fussed over by one and all, but it was so noisy and everyone was so excited at seeing his father, he only had to smile and nod in return. If he said something stupid it didn't matter, because no one could hear him anyway. But then Arlain, who had cooed and gushed over him even more than the others, had drawn him aside 'tho we can talk.' He was thrilled, then he was chilled, and when he stood before her-alone with this perfumed goddess at last-and opened his mouth he'd made a complete ass of himself.
Palimak struggled for words to set his mistake right. He said, 'I mean, I am his son. But, uh, not his son.
I'm kind of like … you know … adopted. I don't know who my real father is. Or my mother, either.'
As soon as he was done he gave himself a mental kick. Arrgh! That was just as stupid, he thought. If not stupider!
He hung his head and kicked at the tent floor, not having the slightest idea what to do or say next. He just wanted to escape before she started laughing at him.
Arlain saw his distress and sank gracefully down on a wardrobe truck, lovely white tail tucking around her legs as she sat, her eyes now closer to Palimak's level.
'Tho I gueth we have thomething in common,' she said.
Palimak's head jolted up. 'What?' he asked.
Arlain sighed. 'I don't know who my parenth are either,' she said. 'I'm an orphan. Jutht like you.' She shrugged. 'I think my father dropped me when he wath changing the netht.'
Palimak forgot his embarrassment. 'Were you adopted too?' he asked, feeling very sorry and very protective of her.
'Yeth. But not by very nithe people,' she said. She glanced over at Safar, who was engrossed in a story Elgy, the human-charming snake, was telling. 'You're really lucky to have a father like Thafar.'
Palimak threw his shoulders back, smiling and proud. 'He's the best father any boy could have,' he said.
'The best in the whole world!'
'That'th what I always imagined,' Arlain said. 'From the firtht time I met him.' She leaned closer, a fellow conspirator. 'I had a thecret cruth on him, you know,' she said. 'But don't tell anybody I thaid that.
They'll teathe me. And I don't like to be teathed.'
Palimak promised he wouldn't. 'I don't like to be teased, either,' he added with such solemnity that Arlain couldn't help but giggle again.
This time, however, a bit of smoke puffed from between her lips along with a few flames.
'Oopth!' she said, covering her mouth with a dainty paw. 'I'm thorry! Thometimeth I get all exthited and forget I'm a dragon. And I accithidentaly thet thingth on fire! I'm tho clumthy, you wouldn't believe it!
People get tho mad at me!'
Palimak was absolutely charmed by this confession. Arlain suddenly seemed less intimidating. More like an older sister with ordinary foibles, instead of a gorgeous, distant idol.
'I accidentally set my grandmother's wagon on fire once,' he said, trying to make her feel more comfortable. 'You can't believe how mad she got!' He sighed. 'I guess it's hard for people to understand that you can't always help it.'
'I uthed to worry about it all the time,' Arlain said. 'But now I don't worry tho much. I wath born thith way! Half one being, half another. Nothing I can do about it. I mean, nobody athked me if I wanted to be born.'
She looked at him, smiling a smile that melted his heart. And then she said, 'I thuppoth it'th the thame with you.'
Palimak's eyes widened in astonishment. 'How did you know?' he asked.
Arlain pretended confusion. 'Know what, my thweet?'
Palimak ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed, although he didn't know why. He wanted to speak, but there was a knot in his throat that wouldn't allow it. He coughed, trying to clear a suddenly constricted throat.
Arlain said, 'I'm thorry, I couldn't hear you,' as if the cough was a statement.
Her voice was so kind Palimak chanced an answer. Head still down, wanting to get it over with in a quick mumble, but forcing himself to make his words clear.
He said, 'How did you know that I'm … well … uh … what do you call it … special, I guess … Yeah.
Special. Like you.'
He wanted to say more, but his throat constricted. He coughed again, trying to fight past it, but what came out was still badly crippled.
'Except I'm half demon, instead of dragon. How could you tell? I try to be really careful because people get all upset when they find out. And not just human type people. Demons act the same way.'
'You didn't do anything wrong,' Arlain said. 'I jutht thort of guethed. Maybe beingth like uth recognize each other right away.'
She giggled, purposely letting a little smoke and fire leak out. But this time she didn't say, 'oops,' or apologize.
Instead, she said, 'Not that you can't tell thoon ath you meet me,' she said, hand moving gracefully through the air, going from dragon face to lush woman's body. 'I can't hide who I am,' she said. 'It wath written all over me by my mother and father.'
He nodded, but it wasn't a nod of understanding. It was an abrupt nod, a nod urging her to go on. To explain
