As the sky grew dark, the moon grew increasingly prominent above the city until it loomed like a great yellow eye right above our heads. Airships flew back and forth, though they looked tiny compared to the moon. When the last vestiges of pink and purple faded from the horizon, the amber street lamps flared to life, their enchantments activating in unison to ward away the night. The bells of the church rang out the hour, and in the distance I could hear the chanting of the choir singing their final hymn for the day.
The big top itself was massive, a spectacle of light and music as wisps made of sorcery flittered back and forth through the air. I watched them for a little while until I got bored of their antics, and looked around to see if I recognized anyone else in the crowd.
There were a few apprentices here and there that I knew by sight, if not name, and we exchanged solemn nods from a distance as the line slowly got swallowed by the tent. Some of the well-dressed citizens were familiar too, as they were customers who came into the shop from time to time. I had no way of knowing if they recognized me or not as their faces might as well have been carved from stone when they looked my way, but that was fine with me. I didn’t want to make small talk with them, either.
Someone grabbed my shoulder. “Basil! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”
I spun around, reaching down to my belt where I kept my knife. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it’d be a nasty surprise for anyone looking to start trouble. Old instincts kicked in and I started snarling a threat, but it died in my throat as soon as I looked up and saw that Mozur Renford was the one who’d grabbed me. He was the musketeer who taught the fencing classes I took whenever I had enough money left from my wages to do so, and while he was generally good-natured, I doubted he would have appreciated me drawing a knife on him.
He was a good half foot taller than I was, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with a thin brown goatee that ended in a neat point. Like all musketeers, the upper half of his face was hidden a mask that was the same green color as his jacket, and accentuated with gold like his feathered hat. His black-gloved left hand rested on the pommel of his rapier, and the grip of the pistol holstered on his other hip gleamed like it’d just been polished.
I bowed my head, as was proper for someone like me when addressing a musketeer, and said, “Mozur. What a pleasant surprise.”
Renford’s mouth split into a wide grin and he briefly adjusted his cravat once he let my shoulder go. The ruby in the center sparkled as it caught the light coming from a nearby wisp. “By the king, it’s good to see you, lad. How long has it been since you last came to a class? Two months? Three? Did you get scared off because you lost that duel to Lamont?”
I flushed at the memory – the one-sided beat down I’d suffered at the hands of the bigger, stronger boy hadn’t even been close to a “duel” – but shook my head and said, “No, mozur, that’s not the reason. I’m always grateful to be shown inadequacies in my techniques.”
He snorted at that. “Spoken like a true musketeer. Well, if it’s not your pride that’s kept you away, then, what is it?”
The truth of the matter was that I simply hadn’t been able to afford classes recently. Oren paid me a fair a wage – and as much as he could afford with a workshop of other apprentices – but it simply wasn’t enough to pay for fencing lessons on a regular basis. As recently as this morning I’d thought to be able to attend this month’s class, but my earlier carelessness with the murk wings meant that plan had shattered along with my jar.
I tried to think of a good way to answer – in accordance with the teachings of the Church, openly claiming financial hardship was widely frowned upon– but before I could get my tongue around the lie and say that my master kept me too busy to attend, a buxom woman in a yellow dress that clung to her curves sidled up and looped her arm through the musketeer’s.
“There you are, darling,” she purred. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. There’s someone here that you absolutely must meet.”
Renford flashed me a rogueish wink and smiled down at her. “Of course, modam. It would be my pleasure. Lead the way. Basil, I hope to see you again at lessons soon.”
“I’d like nothing more,” I said, watching jealously as the woman pressed herself against his side and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek as they vanished into the rest of the crowd. Of all the reasons I wanted to join the musketeers, cavorting with glitterati was certainly high on my list. Women like that didn’t even give alchemists the time of day.
There wasn’t much time for me to brood, though, I reached the door a few minutes later. Naturally, I was relieved to find that I hadn’t forgotten my ticket in a different pair of pants or some other such nonsense. The grinning man who took it and tore it was nearly seven feet tall, and his wild blonde hair reminded me of a lion’s mane. Whiskery scars marked his cheeks, and gaudy gold rings and bracelets adorned his fingers and wrists.
Try as I might though, I didn’t see even a speck of silver.
Telling.
“Crescent section is to your right,” he told me in a deep, growling voice. “Enjoy the show.”
I thanked him and made my way inside. Unlike most of the circuses I’d been to in the past, the floor of the arena was clean, and the air smelled sweet. Undoubtedly sorcery was responsible in both cases.
My seat was neither great nor terrible. The hard wooden skeleton had been covered by a sack filled with straw, and most importantly, it was that it was neither warm nor sticky. After fussing with the cushion to make sure that the straw was even, I settled myself in and waited for the show to start. Twice I had to bring my legs back to let another patron pass, but I didn’t mind; they were polite about it and didn’t dally the way some people did.
Once the last tickets were taken and the final people seated, the lights dimmed and a sonorous voice filled the tent.
“Welcome one, welcome all! We’re thrilled to have you with us!”
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A firework exploded, sending out sparks the same color as a blacksmith’s working metal, and when the last of them faded and the smoke cleared, a ruddy older man stood in the center of the ring. He was dressed well, in a flamboyant robe and vest the same color as the firework had been. HIs pointy hat, along with his white beard, gave him the look of a wizard, and his monocle glinted like diamonds when a spotlight flashed upon it.
“For the past hundred years, this big top has travelled all across the world. From sunny Rhuzia all the way to perpetually freezing Iucan, we’ve visited every corner of Oria. Along the way we’ve delivered plenty of fantastic performances and seen things you wouldn’t believe. Of course, you’re not interested in either of those facts tonight. You’re here for some entertainment! Am I right?”
He raised his hands and we all cheered. I hollered along with everyone else.
“Let’s get to it, then!” The ringmaster called, and another pair of fireworks exploded. “Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! Refreshments will be available soon! Make sure you buy some, they’re the best part!”
There was a good bit of laughter at that, and when the girl came by with a tray of ale-filled cups, I handed over the eight crowns – a truly exorbitant price, I must add – she asked for and got myself a drink. The drink was cool and tasty, somehow reminiscent of apples, and it took a great force of will to not swallow it all in a few eager sips.
The first performer of the night was Chuckles, a clown dressed in white and red dots, who tumbled into the ring and performed various feats of silliness and strength. The best part of his act was the last bit, when after setting a conspicuous board down on the ground, he picked up a massive barbell with a single hand. Raising it above his head, the clown twirled it around as it if weighed no more than a feather. Then, he threw it into the air and started juggling, adding a hodgepodge of other items that somehow all came out of his pockets, including a flowerpot. After successfully juggling all ten or eleven things for a minute or two, he “accidentally” tripped over his own bright red shoe during an exaggerated bow, and everything crashed down to the ground. The flower pot landed on his head, and Chuckles started stumbling around, failing to remove the pot. Of course, he yanked it off at the exact moment the barbell landed on the conspicuous board from earlier, which launched him into the air.
I laughed and laughed, as did everyone around me. A pale man with a scar underneath his eye even clapped my shoulder in a brief moment of camaraderie before returning to his raucous laughter. I was grinning ear to ear when Chuckles landed without issue and bowed for real before jogging out of the ring.
“Think that was exciting? My friends, I urge you all to look up!” the ringmaster’s voice boomed.
As he spoke, the rest of the lights dimmed and a pair of spotlights focused on the tightrope near the top of the tent. Anxiety-inducing music started to play; drums and horns playing too fast to be comfortable listening. When the music reached a shrieking crescendo, a woman covered in sequins appeared and waved to the crowd.
“Behold, our dazzling acrobat Constance is going to cross from one side of that tiny rope to the other. It’s no thicker than an urse whip, I promise! Now, before you starting thinking that’s not too difficult, let me remind you that there’s no safety net to be seen!”
Sure enough, there wasn’t. Below the rope was nothing but empty air, and the hard ground of the ring below.
We all gasped as the woman hopped onto the rope and started walking, perfectly balancing her weight as it dipped lower and lower with her every step. When she got to the middle, it wobbled, and my heart went into my throat as the woman tumbled over the side.
Instead of falling to her demise though, as I’d been sure she was about to do, she grabbed the rope and swung around it twice before flipping herself back into the air like one of the king’s dancing girls did during the summer festivals and landing on the rope once more. She walked the rest of the way across on her hands, then slid down a long pole to the ground in the center of the ring so we could all clap and cheer.
By the gods, she was beautiful!
Her golden hair and rosy cheeks shined as if they’d come right out of a song, and when her emerald eyes momentarily met mine, my heart started thumping so fast that I couldn’t help but wonder if she was using some sort of sorcery. Glamours were common enough, especially among the wealthy citizens of Brighthaven, though making them work on a crowd of so many people would have required serious sorcerous fortitude.
I finished my drink, enjoying the pleasant buzz of alcohol as I watched contortionists, sorcerers, dancing automatons, impeccably-trained lions, and everything else the big top offered. While each act was great, I felt that none of them quite compared to the first two performances. Still, I had an absolutely wonderful time.
The cool night air was pleasantly refreshing against my skin once the show was over, and I leisurely made my way toward the bars and gambling parlors on the other side of town. Tomorrow was my day off, and Oren wasn’t the type of master who minded if his apprentices came home in the wee hours of the morning so long as they didn’t have to work the next day. My financial situation didn’t seem as dire as it had before the circus, and I was in the mood for some more drinks or easy companionship.
Though I’d only had the one drink, my vision was ever so slightly blurry, and I was certain that some of the things I found funny weren’t actually funny at all. Like street signs, or bushes. I laughed at them anyway, and wondered if going to get more drinks was actually such a good idea. The ale at the circus must have been stronger than I’d thought. I turned my face skyward and closed my eyes for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. When I opened them back up, I felt that the moon looked vaguely menacing, and I wanted nothing more than to get away from its pale yellow light. My earlier merriment forgotten, I turned around and started heading back to Oren’s.
My paranoia grew stronger and stronger as I hurried down shrinking side streets and crossed through constricting alleys. Nobody was around, though it was definitely still early enough for plenty of people to be out. A frigid wind chilled my skin as I came to an intersection I knew well. Something was wrong; there should have only been two forks in front of me, but for some reason there were three. A bloodcurdling shriek nearly froze my blood, and a small figure came sprinting down the strange new path.
When they stepped out into the amber light, I saw that the newcomer was a child with dirty white hair dressed in pauper’s clothes. His pinkish eyes were dilated, and his posture unnerved me. He looked like he was being lifted up by an invisible hand I couldn’t see, so hunched was his back. Looking at him made my skin crawl, though I wasn’t entirely sure why.
He stared at me, his mouth hanging slightly open, and I asked, “Are you alright, lad?”
No answer.
Against my better judgement, I took a tentative step forward and asked him once again if he was okay. Still he didn’t answer me, and my feet started moving again. Dimly, I was aware that this wasn’t right; I didn’t want to approach the boy, but it felt like something was pulling me forward.
The wind blew again, sounding almost like an intake of breath.
When I was only a foot or so away from the child, the streetlights near me went out, and the sudden darkness was jarring enough to bring me back to my senses. I stopped in my tracks and clenched my fists, certain that I’d just been the victim of sorcery and trying to steel my will against another such attack.
“If you’re after money, I’m afraid I don’t have much,” I said. “But I’d be happy to give you what I have if you’ll just let me go.”
“Not interested in coins,” a hissing voice said. “Hungry.”
Before I could move, a pair of gnarled gray hands shot out of the gloom and grabbed my arms. I cried out as the sharp, yellowed claws at the end of each finger dug into my skin, and was powerless to fight back as it dragged me into the darkness of the strange alley.