Pantomime (37 page)

  Drystan made a show of kissing my hand and looking me up and down appreciatively before he went onstage to publicly proclaim his love for Iona and thank the Lord and Lady for bringing her into his life. The gesture made me uncomfortable, for he believed me to be truly a woman.

  "Small wonder Drystan is so keen to ravish you onstage," Bethany said.

  I glanced at Aenea. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line.

  "Don't be silly," I said, peering out to see if it was my cue yet. "Drystan prefers boys in trousers, not ladies in skirts."

  "He's been known to not turn down a lady a time or two since he's joined us. I imagine a boy in a skirt is the best of both worlds, in his mind," Bethany continued blithely.

  I felt my face go hot. "Stop infuriating Aenea, Bethany," I chided, more nonchalantly than I felt. "Time to marry!" I said. I gave Aenea a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving a red smudge, and she gave me a smile as she wiped it away. I darted onto the stage and under the glass globes of the circus.

  Leander, my groom, was waiting in front of the painted backdrop of the Penglass castle, beaming in his elaborate doublet and coronet. Because Leander and Iona's love was so pure, so true, and had overcome so much, the Lord and Lady gave them their personal blessing.

  Iano read aloud the traditional marriage vows, and Leander pledged his undying love to Iona and she to him, and so we kissed once again as the trumpet blared and the audience stood to clap and cheer. Aenea stood in front of Drystan and me as we kissed, but she was looking towards the audience and smiling, even if the smile was a little forced.

  We stood and bowed, and the other performers came out to wave and beam at the audience. The spectators filed out to explore the funfair, and the performers retired and looked forward to the early morning when the carnival would had finished. Our first show at Imachara had gone according to plan, and we deserved a celebration.

 
 

from THE MEMOIRS OF THE SPARROW,

Aerialist Diane Albright

 

The show went on.

  The tumblers flipped, the otters posed on their hind legs, and the contortionists bent over and kissed the floor. The freaks stared over the audience's heads as they gaped. Leander and Iona fell in love again each night.

  The summer cooked us, the sweat trickling down our backs and temples. We sat well away from the nightly bonfire as it crackled and sparked. Full darkness did not fall until almost midnight, and even then the sky turned a deep violet. Aenea and I held hands, murmuring softly to each other as we drank awful beer and ate leftover sugar floss.

  I hoped it would never end, even as the nights grew shorter and colder, the promise of autumn on the wind.

 

And then on the last day of the season, a Shadow fell over the circus.

  I saw him in the carnival, the wide brim of his hat obscuring his face. I darted behind a tent, my heartbeat echoing in my throat as I peeked around the canvas. The Shadow tapped Jive on the shoulder. He flashed identification, and Jive looked impressed.

  "What do you want, Shadow-man?"

  "Where can I find the ringmaster?" The man had a polite voice, carefully articulated.

  "He's in his office. That cart over there." He pointed, and the Shadow's eyes lingered on the red varnish of Jive's fingernail. "What you want with him? He in trouble?"

  "No. I'm looking for someone. Many thanks for your help," he said, and I darted into the tent when I saw him come my way. I took deep breaths, watching the retreating back after he passed and then sprinting to the only person in the circus who knew who I had once been.

  "Micah?" Drystan asked as he saw me, his brow furrowed. I had never once visited his cart. "Come in."

  I saw Rian and Iano behind him on their bunks, playing cards and smoking cigarillos, the remnants of last night's clown makeup still on their faces.

  "I need to speak with you," I said, holding my gaze with his.

  He nodded, just once, and we went to my cart. My eyes darted about, searching for the Shadow's wide hat.

  "Micah, what is it?" he asked once we were inside. "You're twitchy."

  "A Shadow is here."

  He did not say anything, and waited for me to say more.

  "Said he was looking for someone. I think he was the one hired to find me. And I don't know who else read that article. Frit did. I think she suspected. Maybe she sold me out after she left."

  Drystan shook his head. "She won't have."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "I just am." He shifted his weight. "You're sure it's the Shadow hired by your family to find you?"

  "Fairly sure," I said, my voice cracking.

  "Then you have to leave," he said.

  I stared at him, the words echoing in my skull.
Then
you have to leave. You have to leave.

  "I can't leave."

  He shook his head. "Micah, I don't think you have a choice."

  I fell against Arik's empty trunk, running a hand through my hair. "If you didn't know me to be Iphigenia already, would you have recognized me?" The image of the surly girl in the newspaper floated in my memory – the lace at her throat, the curls, the flat eyes. "I've changed a lot in the last half a year. I barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore."

  "Plenty of people will hazard a guess for the chance of money. Who else has the Shadow talked to?"

  "No one. He only asked Jive for directions."

  "And what did he tell Jive?"

  "That… that he was looking for someone."

  "That means that soon everyone will know that a Shadow is looking for someone. Lord and Lady knows we all have our secrets to hide, but tongues will wag. People will wonder which of us he wants."

  "Maybe they'll think it's someone else," I muttered without conviction.

  Pity flitted across his face. "Everyone knows you can read and that you came from money, Micah. You are still one of the newest members. The people you work with are uneducated, not stupid. Eventually, they will remember the fact that you have never been seen without clothes on because you bathe in your cart, and that you look and sound a little too believable as a woman in the pantomime."

  Hot tears slid down my face. I did not sob. Drystan's hand hovered above my shoulder, and then he slid his arms around me. I rested my forehead against the points of his collarbone, too upset to feel guilty at the embrace.

  I sniffled. "I don't want to leave the circus."

  "I know."

  "What will they do if they find me? Send me back to my parents?"

  "Hmm. I'm not sure. Your parents did keep your disappearance quiet for several weeks. They've probably been fined quite a few marks."

  I leaned away. "Fined… Serves them right. They only moved forward two titles because the person who gave me to them also gave them a sum of money. It's a shame for my brother Cyril, though. This will darken his prospects." The words were acrid on my tongue.

  Drystan's interest piqued. "They were given money?" He tapped a finger against his lips. "Now that I think on it, there had been rumors about the Laurus family for years. No one moves up two titles that quickly, unless it's direct royal favor."

  "Sometimes the truth is stranger than the rumors." Dread settled in my chest like a stone.

  "Quite the mystery, little Gene. You must wonder where you came from all the time."

  Strange to hear my old name on his tongue, though he had called me by it once before. "You have no idea. I can't leave the circus, though, Drystan. I have nowhere to go." There was Mister Illari, perhaps, but he was ailing and returning to Sicion seemed dangerous.

  "That didn't stop you before, did it?" Drystan asked.

  "No, but this is different. I fit here. I belong and I've found what I'm good at."

  Drystan shook his head. "You probably would not have been able to stay here forever. Eventually, someone would have noticed, or you would have tired of it."

  "How long have you been in the circus?"

  Drystan stared off into the distance. "Nearly five years."

  "And you've tired of it."

  His eyes were dull. He rubbed a hand against the stubble of his cheek. "I've grown restless, more like."

  "That's surprising. With Bil faltering, you could be running the circus ere long."

  At the mention of Bil's name, Drystan's gaze darkened. "I've thought about it. More than a time or two. But it does not feel like what I am meant to be doing with my life."

  "You're meant to be grooming yourself to be a noble and a member of parliament, or advising the queen."

  He laughed hollowly. "Perchance I can apply to be her fool."

  "I'm the lead of the pantomime and half of the final act…" I began.

  "And it's the last show of the circus. An aerialist can be found. An actor can be found. Don't make the mistake of thinking that you're irreplaceable to the circus. The show will go on with or without you."

  I thought of Frit's hands clutching gold coins. "Are you so certain the circus will always survive?"

  He waved his hands dismissively. "I suppose I was being poetic. Bil's circus may not survive next season. I do the books – I know how little there is in the safe. Bil's also crafty, though, so he may find a way. But life is a circus, and one player is rarely missed. You should bear that in mind."

  Drystan had reverted to the white clown from the night I joined the circus, all cryptic riddles and wide, staring eyes. I wondered if I knew him at all.

  "I'll leave after tonight's show, then," I said, the words feeling like a life's sentence. "Aenea and I were thinking of going to Byssia. Perhaps if we leave and return in four months, the Shadow will have moved on and forgotten me. And I can come back."

  We both knew this was a lie.

  Drystan backed away. At the door, he turned to me.

  "Be careful and keep your eyes sharp, Micah. And leave just after the last pantomime has finished."

  He drummed his fingers against the door frame, as if he would say something else. But he left without another word.

 

That night before the last pantomime and the last circus, I took a long look at myself in the mirror behind the stage. The face was very different from the face of the surly-looking girl in the newspaper. I was no longer that unhappy girl.

  And why would anyone think that the daughter of a noble would join a circus? She would be pampered and soft, not capable of swinging from a trapeze or gallivanting about a stage and kissing strange and uncouth men. I did not think it was as dire as Drystan stated. Though I had no illusions that those I had worked with for a season would feel any sense of loyalty to me if they did fit the puzzle pieces together.

  Aenea and I had enough money saved for the passage to Byssia. Just. But we shouldn't go unless I told her what I was. We had kissed, and a little more. I had stopped her wandering hand once or twice. There had been so many times I could have told her, and so many times I almost did. But each time my mouth opened but the words would not come. And so she did not know what I was, and I did not know how to tell her.

  But if we were travelling across the sea together and sharing a cabin, she needed to know. Before we left. Tonight. Bile rose in my throat at the thought. I had wound so many lies about myself, that if I untangled them I feared garroting myself. How could she ever forgive that much deception?

  I put on the cotton velvet dress and snood, and waited for my cue to become the Princess Iona. The lines tumbled from my mouth, spoken so many times it was impossible to forget them. I kissed Drystan yet again. It felt familiar now. I might have kissed him almost as many times as Aenea.

  I changed in the darkest corner of the tent, behind the bed sheet curtain I had erected. For the last time, I climbed the rope ladder to the tightrope and trapeze, stared across the distance at the girl who had enchanted me into the circus. Her green costume glinted in the light of the glass globes, her long braid falling down her back. I took a deep breath, and jumped toward the trapeze swing.

  Aenea and I flew to the sounds of applause below.

 

I walked through the carnival, still in Iona's wedding dress, which I always changed back into for the final bow of the night, and my coat. Drystan had seen Aenea go this way, perhaps to pick up a few last items before we left for Byssia the next morning. I kept a sharp eye out for her as I passed through the carnival. Whenever anyone pressed against me, I jumped. Whenever I saw a familiar face in the crowd, I wondered where I had seen them before. My breath came in shallow spurts, and the stone in my chest would not go away.

  Directly in front of me, two Policiers appeared in a gap in the crowd. It reminded me of my first night in the funfair, those months ago. I froze in the middle of the busy carnival. A man complained as he strode around me, but I barely heard him. I darted between two wooden stalls and crouched by a tent, the lights and sounds of the circus thundering in my ears, my breath hissing from my throat. They walked past me, never glancing in my direction.