Girl in the Shadows (24 page)

thirty-three

We sat, side by side, exhausted and nervous when the doctor finally came to the door an hour later.

“I need you to talk to him,” he said, obviously speaking to Dez.

“All right,” Dez said.

“You want me to come with you?” I asked.

“I’d better see him alone.”

Dez disappeared into the bus, and I went back to waiting. There were more people showing up at the field, performers and customers. It was time for the afternoon midway opening. I heard music in the distance.

I had a show to do. Two shows. We both did, the last in El Paso. We could cancel, but I didn’t know how Thurston would feel about that. I had a feeling he was a big believer in the show going on.

Such a small concern, in the midst of so many huge ones. But it was an immediate problem, one I could solve right now. I turned it over in my head, making a plan B about what I could do for the audience on short notice, assistantless, in case Dez wouldn’t leave. I wasn’t going to make him.

I could back up Brandon as the assistant for Dez’s sets, if he wanted to do them. For all I knew, the Rex might have some other spy who’d report that he skipped them, which would make things even worse.

Ten minutes later, Dez came back out. I got up to greet him.

“He isn’t even mad,” he said. “At him
or
me.”

His hand balled into a fist, like he wanted to punch something.

“Because there was nothing you could do. He knows you’d rather be in his place. And the Rex is his leader, so he can’t let himself be mad at him. How bad is it?”

“The doctor wanted me to talk him into surgery. It’s the only way he’ll ever get full control of his hand back. A long shot even then.”

“If money’s an issue—”

“It’s not. Thurston would pay. The doctor called him. Brandon doesn’t want to abandon his post. Or me.”

“He could change his mind.”

Dez relaxed his fingers, shook them out, and considered his own hand. Like he was thinking about what it would be to not have it work anymore. “They have to do it right away, if they’re going to do it with a shot at success. Brandon told him to do the best he could and put a cast on. They have to put him under, even for that. He’ll be here overnight. At least.”

“I’m sorry. And I know this seems like nothing, but—”

“We have shows to do. I know.” He held out his hand to me, and I took it. “I’m not going to make you do yours solo. We’ll come back later.”

“And we’ll make a plan,” I said as we started walking. “We will not let the Rex win.”

I wished there was as much hope in my heart as in my words.

We packed up and left for Albuquerque the next day. I drove behind Remy and Dita; Dez rode in the medical bus with a still mostly sleeping Brandon.

There’d been no sign or word from the Rex or Regina, not even to check on Brandon.

That shouldn’t have surprised me, but somehow it did.

Dez and I had made a plan in stolen moments when we weren’t attending to Brandon or performing or driving, and I put it into play on our first rehearsal day in Albuquerque.

I waited for Remy and Dita to head off to lunch together, then I texted Dez. He must have already been lingering outside, because he knocked a moment later. He’d probably come from the medical bus, which Brandon would be released from in a couple of days, due to continued improvement. Albeit with strong pain meds and daily checkups. The doctor wasn’t thrilled about skipping surgery and just resetting and immobilizing the bones as best he could, but he seemed tentatively hopeful the results might be better than he’d feared at first.

Until the next time the Rex felt like punishing Dez, anyway.

“Hurry,” I said, waving Dez inside.

I had managed to convince Dez that I’d call Dad soon. Just not yet. The first step of the plan was for me to attempt to do exactly what the Rex had ordered—use my magic to find the coin. Once we had it, we would have a little leverage. My mom needed it. And it was a sacred item to the Praestigae.

But would the Rex protect her or think I could be a replacement instead?

We had no crystal ball, not even the benefit of Nan Maroni’s tarot cards. This was our best shot at the moment.

“Did you figure out how you’re going to do this?” Dez asked.

“Trial and error, I guess.”

I closed my eyes and pictured the scene at that house in El Paso, the Rex picking up the hammer. The cool feel of the metal points against my cheek. My heart pounding, like I was back in those terrible moments.

I called on my magic, and it responded, my palms warming.

“This is going to look silly,” I murmured, and opened my eyes. I lifted my hands and held them out.

And I began to walk through the Airstream like some kind of diviner or a kook with a dousing rod in search of water. Charlatan stuff.

“If this works,” I said, “I can put it in my act. And start doing the worst magic tricks.”

“I don’t think zombie arms is a magic trick,” Dez countered, following close behind me.

“Shh,” I said, attempting to concentrate.

I felt exactly nada besides warm palms as we made our way into Remy’s remarkably clean room, the bed made, even. There were stacks of mystery novels, the same kind Dita was always reading, lined up at the top of his bed. Some of that chalk they put on their hands and feet to prevent slipperiness sat there too. I waved my hands all around.

“Nothing?” Dez asked.

“Nothing,” I confirmed. “And I can’t tell if it’s because there really is nothing, or because I’m not
doing
anything.”

My phone rang, shrill, and I jumped and bashed my knee against the table. “Ow.”

“Who is it?” Dez asked. “If it’s your dad, you should answer.”

It usually
was
Dad. I fished the phone out of my pocket and checked the screen, prepared to ignore the call.

“It’s not him.” I slid to answer. “Amber? Hi, what’s up?”

There was a moment of silence, and then my father spoke. “Where are you?”

Oh no.

“I can explain,” I started.

Dez’s eyebrows shot up. “What is it?” he whispered.

I held up a hand for quiet. “Dad?”

“Yes. Where are you?”

I scrambled through my brain for what to do. We had four short weeks left after this, and we’d be creeping closer to Vegas the entire time. We were in trouble he might be able to help with.

My show was tight. There was a line after every performance waiting for autographs.

He might as well come now.

“Moira Mitchell, answer me. This is over.”

If we could find the coin, we would have a bargaining chip with him too. He’d had Raleigh looking for it, after all. I only needed to buy us a little more time. Enough to locate it.

“I’m performing magic,” I said. “With the Cirque American. Why don’t you come and see us next week in Phoenix?”

“You’re where? No, I will not. You will come home now.”

“I won’t.”

“This is not a negotiation. You lied to me. You can’t be there. It’s dangerous.”

“Because of the magic coin you sent Raleigh here to find? Yeah, I know about that.”

“Why—”

“I’m an adult, and this is a job. You will come when I invite you, and watch me perform, and I will talk to you after. We have important things to discuss. Deal?”

I had much worse fears these days than worrying about my dad disapproving of my career choices.

Anger seeped out of the phone. “This is why you were asking about your mother. About my warehouse. The coin.”

“Yep.”

We were both steaming into the phone. Now it was a matter of who was most stubborn. Finally, he said, “Send me the time and place. I’ll call in a favor for someone to cover the Menagerie.”

I hit ended the call. “Well, that’s great,” I said to Dez.

“He’s coming?” Dez asked.

“He’s coming,” I said. Which made the heat of my magic surge, accompanied by a bucket of nervous energy. “Let’s check the rest of the place before they get back.”

We found no trace of the coin anywhere in the Airstream or on the grounds or backstage. We conducted the entire search with me trying to be as discreet as possible about my lifted radar hands. By the end of the day, I had to admit the problem was more than likely me. The coin was here. I just wasn’t finding it. “I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

“Maybe your mom can explain how.” Dez frowned. “Though why
hasn’t
she found it, if magic can?”

“Low on magic, remember. Maybe it’s more complicated than it seems, takes too much?”

“What if it’s not even here?” he asked.

“It is, and Remy and Jules know where. If this doesn’t work, we’ll have to ask them straight out.”

Disappointing the Maronis and Garcias wasn’t something I wanted to do, but I might not have any other option. It was all too easy to picture Dita’s face when she found out her partner in crime, her roomie, was just the latest person keeping her in the dark.

Dez was on Brandon night-shift duty, so I went back to the Airstream and lay on my bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Dita and Remy hadn’t made it home yet. I was alone. I called my magic to me and played with transforming whatever was handy without even looking. I was getting better. My fingers and then body filled with the heat that meant I was using magic. I no longer felt like it would burn me up from the inside out. Not when I had it under control and successfully guided it, anyway.

I made a coin into a paper heart, and then another. And another.

I pictured myself as a cup, the fiery red sea inside lessening a fraction with everything I transformed.

Maybe if I did this enough, I’d use my magic all up and things would get simple again. Except I
couldn’t
use it all.

Or I’d shatter.

thirty-four

When our first day of Albuquerque shows arrived, Dez and I stood in silence behind the curtain, moments before we’d take the stage. I was doing the coffin escape for the early show, and the bullet catch for the late one. My tent was always full, but people seemed to appreciate the drama of the bullet catch more.

Which would be better for Dad to see? The coffin escape, maybe. I didn’t use actual magic in a way he’d spot. But what if he wanted to watch both? He’d see in a second there was no way for Dez to get me the marked bullet, no other assistant to pass it to me when I donned my safety gear. Of course, I was going to have to tell him I knew all about my magic anyway. A demonstration might be in order.

“Ready?” Dez asked.

“Let’s go.”

Our spirits were flagging. The lack of progress in finding the coin and Brandon’s doctor’s troubled face whenever we saw him didn’t help matters.

I was a little off during my performance. But I made it through, presto chango, abracadabra, free from straitjacket and coffin. I took my bows, and the audience applauded as loud as always.

This was what being a professional meant, I guessed. Even your not-best was at a level people would appreciate. I still didn’t like phoning it in.

I signed autographs quickly, smiling as I posed with audience members for selfies and counting the seconds until I’d be done. I had a pressing question for Dez.

As soon as we were alone in the tent, I asked, “Can we get a message to my mother or go see her?”

“The Rex and Regina summon you or pay a visit. It’s the only way.”

“But they’re trailing us, right? Around? We’ll probably see them soon?”

“I wouldn’t sound so eager,” he said. “But yes. I’m surprised they’ve taken so long to show.”

He wore a troubled expression.

“What is it? What did you just think?” I said, prodding. “Honesty, please.”

He messed with the curtain in front of him. “That he’s probably keeping her from coming to see you to be an asshole. Because he can.”

“Ah. I can see that.” But I wanted my mother to come. Then she could tell me what I was doing wrong.

I hadn’t realized what an idyllic existence I’d had at the Cirque before. Now everything from my friendships to my job felt like a false front, an illusion I’d conjured. An illusion that would leave a terrible reality in its wake.

Dez pulled the curtain aside. “Shit,” he said.

The devil was waiting for us backstage with a toothy grin in an overly fancy gray suit. “Language, my loyal subject,” he said to Dez. “And in the presence of our princess.”

I swallowed saying I wasn’t his anything.

My mother was with him, polished in that way she’d described as an illusion. She had on orangey-red lipstick that clashed with her hair, and another long sleeveless dress. Black this time. I’d only ever seen her look thin, pale, sickly that once. It made me wonder.

I had no reason to distrust her completely, though. Not yet. She’d been right about how bad it’d be if the Rex discovered I existed.

So I could play nice for a few minutes to get a conversation alone with her. “I wish we’d known you were coming,” I said, as pleasantly as I could manage, as much a performance as anything I’d ever done on the stage. “We’d have rolled out the red carpet.”

“Do you have one?” the Rex asked, his voice so mild that you might believe he was a charmer, if you’d just met him.

“Afraid not,” Dez said, careful. “What can we do for you?”

“We didn’t want to risk another
scene
. But we wanted an update on your progress.”

I pulled out the chair in front of the nearest makeup table and gestured to it.

“My queen,” the Rex said.

“Thank you,” my mother murmured.

I was still trying to be nice, but I caught a movement in Dez’s jaw. He’d clenched it tight, probably without even knowing.

So I asked, “Did you also want to know how Brandon is? After the—”

“Punishment?” he said. “A fair one. He’s alive, isn’t he? That’s all I need to know.”

“He’s alive,” Dez said.

“So”—the Rex clapped his hands together under another grin—“where’s the coin? I feel you are going to be lucky for us, Moira.”

I fidgeted.

“Speak up,” he said, harshness creeping in. “I can’t read minds. Alas.”

“Um,” I said. “I think I need some help from my mother.”

“You haven’t found it yet?” The Rex’s smile vanished, his expression serious as the grave he’d threatened to put Dez in that day.

“We’ve been trying. But I don’t think I know how to use my magic like that.”

He circled Dez and then me, looking at us both. “I don’t see any under-eye shadows, any signs of frantic despair. I don’t think you’ve been trying hard enough. How best to motivate you?” He made a ticking sound, his tongue hitting his teeth.

In my mind, I heard Brandon’s scream. My own breathing grew shallow. I also didn’t know how to use my magic
against
the Rex. Not with nothing in my hands. Could I try to transform a stray coin in my pocket into something of his to hurt him, like I had accidentally done with the penny and Dez? Incapacitate him that way?

“Rex,” my mother said, “you’re scaring Moira.”

“It’s time to scare Moira. She’s one of my subjects now.” He lifted his hand and slapped me.

My cheek stung, and my hand went to it. I couldn’t believe it.

“Interesting,” he said. “You don’t know how to fight back. Good. Your little trick with the hammer made me wonder.”

“I do,” Dez said.

“I do think you are a good motivation for her,” the Rex said. “Old Silver-Tongue’s son has clearly inherited his charm with the ladies.” His eyes migrated to my silent mother for a moment. “Here’s your new motivation. If you don’t find that damn coin before this foolish season ends, then Dez gets the dirt. The worms. The rot. The endless silence. You get what I’m saying?” He clapped his hands together. “Now do you still need Mommy’s help?”

I nodded, my hand on my stinging cheek. “I wasn’t lying.”

“We’ll leave you two to it, then.” He clapped a hand on Dez’s shoulder. “It’s time for your performance, isn’t it? I’ll help you. I’m beginning to feel like maybe bigger things are in store for you after all. You’re important now.” The Rex turned and met my eyes with his. They seemed to be all pupil. Black and filled with endless meanness. “She’s made you that way.”

Dez stiffly left with him. I prayed he’d return unharmed.

Neither my mother nor I spoke until after I went to the tent flap and checked outside. “They’re gone.”

“You’re lucky it was just a slap,” my mother said. “Now you understand. Why I didn’t want him to know about you.”

“Yeah, well, too late.” I considered her. “Do you really not fight because you’re low on magic?”

She looked down. “If you fight and you lose enough times, you decide not to go into battle anymore. Dez’s father . . . I could have been something like happy with him. But this Rex started out bad and got worse. That’s why I didn’t want you there. Why I went to your father.”

“Why have me at all?”

“The Regina must pass on her power. Otherwise we’re cursed. The Rex doesn’t know that. The important thing is I saved you.”

I couldn’t read how she felt about any of this. She wasn’t giving me much in the way of emotion.

“Thanks for trying, but I’m not feeling all that saved. If only you and Dad would have told me the truth.”

Was that fair? Would I have let it go, or would I have investigated and tried to find her? It was impossible to know.

She stood up. “Give me your hands.”

She took them in hers and held them lightly. “The magic in the coin is akin to your magic. To find it is a sort of call-and-response. Think of opening a door, and your magic is right at the threshold, all of it. You have to call it up. Or imagine the magic being right at the rim of your cup, if you’d rather think of it that way. And then call out for more of that same magic to answer you. You should be able to go right to it.”

“I don’t get it. You haven’t done this already because you don’t have enough magic left. How do you reach out and push mine away, then?”

She hesitated. “That’s different. My magic isn’t close enough to the top to call out for more. There may be less magic in the world now, but it’s still here for a reason. It has its own fail-safes built in. If
every
person running low could just gas up with more or steal from others, then it would all burn out in no time.”

“You mean the way you plan to use the coin?”

She shrugged one beautiful shoulder. “Its magic is our birthright, and our magic is special.”

I tilted my head, considering. “Would you use that magic for battle?”

My mother was still. “My battle days are behind me.”

“I’ll find it.” I pulled my hands out of hers.

But would I hand it over? Not without some way to avoid the Praestigae, becoming a shadow instead of a magician at center stage. And not without a way to keep Dez from the dirt.

“Don’t wait too long,” she said.

I thought about telling her Dad was coming next week. Even if I’d found it, I wouldn’t want to hand it over before then.

“He said Dez has until the end of the season.”

“I’ll try to remind him of that, but in case you missed it, he’s not the most patient.”

“Whatever you can do.” The heart-shaped penny was in my pocket. “One more question,” I said, taking it out to show it to her. “I made this, back at the beginning of the season, and Dez felt it. He collapsed with heart pain. If
you
won’t do battle, maybe I can. Is this how’d I use my magic to . . . hurt someone?”

She motioned for me to drop it in her palm, and I reluctantly did. “Dez wasn’t hurt after you made this, though, not permanently?”

“The doctor said no.”

She weighed it in her palm and passed it back to me. “Sometimes our magic knows more than we do. There is a magic behind things that it can touch, but we can’t, not directly. You transformed something that was real but insubstantial into something with form. You hold Dez’s life in your hands. You have since you made this.”

Her words stole my breath. Dez’s life was mine to protect?

She gave me a tentative smile. “Probably since you met each other. I didn’t have to try hard to recruit him as my spy.”

“Are we having a girls’ moment?” I asked, incredulous. Not wanting to show her how much Dez’s life meant to me.

“Is that so hard to believe?” she asked. “I’m your ally. Not your enemy.”

The tent flap rustled, and the Rex came in first. I closed my fingers around the penny and put it in my pocket.

“Now this is a sight I like to see,” he said. “My beautiful, dangerous girls together.”

Dez behind him had a thin cut slashed on one arm, seeping blood. I went to his side. “What happened?”

The Rex answered. “Just a little nick. I helped with his act, like I said.” He grinned. “We’re just one big happy family, my girl. As long as you do exactly as I ask.”

“You’ll have your coin by the end of the season.”

He walked over and offered his arm to my mother. “What if we want it sooner? The Praestigae have struggled for too long.”

“You made a deal with me,” Dez said, “and, by extension, with her. By the end of the season. We don’t break deals with our own.”

“She didn’t know that,” the Rex whispered. “Fine,” he said, raising his voice. “Just find it.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

“Do better than that,” he said. “Show her something real, my queen.”

Between one moment and the next, my mother went from beautiful with tacky lipstick to a wan woman with a swollen lip, a bruise on each of her cheeks suspiciously like thumbprints. Her appearance
had
been an illusion. She
was
using her magic.

“Enough,” he said.

And she was back to beautiful and perfect again.

After they left, Dez pulled me into a hug, both of us shaking. I held on to him hard.

“I’ve never seen her end up hit before,” he said. “Or so quiet.”

I had no reason to doubt that my mother cared, that her concern for me was genuine. How far that went versus her loyalty to the Rex, I couldn’t say. She’d been using her magic, but how much it cost her to was an open question.

“There’s no way to know what’s real,” I said. “But we do know what’s valuable to them.”

I had to find the coin, fast.