The Immortal Circus: Act Two by Kahler A. R

Author:Kahler, A. R. [Kahler, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2013-06-11T07:00:00+00:00

*

Back in the booth after the final act, I sit and shuffle my cards and acknowledge the anxiety roiling in my gut. It didn’t go away at all during the show, and I know it won’t go away anytime soon. Every time I blink, I see Sheena’s eyes, hear the scared whisper of her voice. I wonder how long it will be before I understand what she was talking about. I wonder if learning more about myself is really worth the risk. I consider my earlier, albeit fleeting, urge to find Oberon and demand he tell me more about my past. The fear in Sheena’s eyes dashes that desire to bits.

When Kingston shows up, I feel my world crash in a screaming train wreck.

“Come on,” he urges. His face is pale, paler than usual. He’s still in costume.

I follow him out of the booth, and that’s when I hear the commotion. Initially, I think it’s just a couple of performers putting on an encore—it wouldn’t be the first time. But no, the crowd forming near the pitch’s entrance isn’t watching a show, and it’s not another pyre. Huddled just past the arching neon sign for Cirque des Immortels is a group of performers, most still in costume. Only a few punters remain, and they’re easy to pick out; they’re the ones whispering under their breath or trying to call an ambulance. The rest just stand and stare in silent horror. Kingston pushes them aside and guides me into the circle.

Sheena is lying on the ground.

Dead.

She’s not covered in blood, but it’s clear she was dragged—the dirt is torn up and there are bruises in the shape of hands on her arms. Her eyes are still open. Her neck tilts toward the forest, like she’s looking for a way out.

“What happened?” I ask Kingston. He’s staring down at the body with a distant look in his eyes.

“Someone attempted to take her back,” he says. He leaves the rest out. He doesn’t need to fill in the lines; I still remember when she confided the details of her contract. If I’m ever taken from the troupe against my will, my life is immediately forfeit.

Someone tried to bring her back to Oberon. Because of that, her contract killed her.

“We should get Mab,” I say. He nods, still looking down at Sheena’s body.

I turn and head back toward the tent, my thoughts drowning under the roar of my pulse.

I make it five steps before someone grabs my arm and turns me around.

“Vivienne?” the guy asks.

The guy looks like a Hollister model, with tan skin, short brown hair, and a polo shirt a little too tight for his muscular frame.

“Do I know you?” I ask. Something about the guy rings a bell in a far-off corner of my mind.

“Viv, it’s me,” he says. His eyebrows furrow with real concern, like I should know this, like I should recognize him. He puts his other hand on my arm. Behind him, the crowd still huddles unaware. For some reason, I don’t flinch away from the stranger’s touch.

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