A Circus of Ink

by Lauren Palphreyman

  ‘You have heard whispers of it all night.’ My words are louder now, stronger.

  Through the shimmering hot air, a ripple of uncertainty makes its way through the crowd. The Teller is saying something.

  I blink hard. ‘We planted an explosive in the ocean.’ Sweat pours down my face, and one of the people bound to the stake starts to scream.

  The shouts change from hungry to panicked. People push against one another.

  ‘Elle . . .’ says Jay, his voice quiet beneath the roar of the flames.

  I wish I were closer to him. I want to be with him at the end.

  Raven grabs my hand, and Sylvia whispers something. It takes me a moment to realise she is whispering my words. Raven whispers them too. The words spread around the stake as quickly as the fire until all of the Darlings are repeating them.

  Jay hears them and stops struggling. He turns his body so he can look at me. Though panic is rising through the mob, and people are screaming, and the flames are starting to lick us, everything slows down as we lock gazes.

  His face is flushed and his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. His eyes glisten, and behind them, I see pure, unwavering belief.

  He believes I will save us.

  I feel the belief in the crowd as well. They believe I will kill them.

  Stories are true when we believe them.

  Jay’s face contorts as the flames reach his legs, and time speeds up again.

  There’s panic all around me. The ocean roars. The mass begin to shove against one another and point at something behind. A shadow looms, and a raw animal sound comes from Sylvia. I smell burning flesh, and fire spits at my boots. I block out the pain.

  I take a deep breath, tasting smoke, and add my voice to those around me.

  ‘A tsunami is coming.’

  The world comes crashing down.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Jay

  There’s water in my mouth and in my lungs. My head smacks back against the stake. I can’t breathe. I’m not drowning though. I’m not being dragged under a pool of black Ink while my blood boils and my skin burns. I’m not praying to the Creators for salvation.

  She is my salvation.

  I taste the air again. It’s salty and smoky and so fucking sweet. Ahead, a giant wave crashes through the square. Its movement is unnatural, and for a second, I think it has eyes and a tail and a dark, frothing mouth that swallows everything in its path. It roars like some great ravenous beast.

  But my eyes are burning, stinging with salt. When I blink and wheeze for breath, it’s just the ocean again, spitting people out into the walls of the surrounding skyscrapers. The night is filled with the sounds of smashing glass and sirens and dying screams.

  My heart pounds. ‘Elle?’ I pull my wrists apart, and the frayed, burnt rope disintegrates in my hands.

  Beside me, Raven splutters, but Elle’s head has lolled onto her chest. I go to her and grab her shoulders.

  ‘Elle?’ I roar.

  She doesn’t respond, and panic stabs me in the gut. Her hair is plastered to her skull, and her skin is pale. I push my fingers to her neck. There has to be a pulse. She can’t be dead. I’d feel it.

  Something spreads inside of me, as cold and turbulent as the waves emptying the streets.

  Th-thump.

  ‘Blotter!’ calls Sylvia, appearing beside me. ‘Is she . . .?’

  ‘Yeah.’ The muscles in my body relax, and I breathe out slowly. ‘Yeah. She’s alive.’

  I free her from her binds then scoop her up into my arms. Raven throws up seawater beside me. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and then turns to Sylvia.

  ‘You shouldn’t have come here. What the fuck were you thinking?’

  ‘Yes, well, believe it or not, it wasn’t my idea.’ Sylvia’s eyes sweep over the five other Darlings who got caught up in all this. They’re alive, but one of the women is badly burnt and being supported by an older man. ‘As soon as the wave goes back to where it came from, we’re out of here.’

  We stand in a line at the edge of the stage. We’re bedraggled and burnt and bruised. But we’re alive.

  If you get caught, I’ll come for you. You know that, right?

  Elle’s breath is weak against my neck, and I hold her close. I brush my lips against her forehead. She tastes like salt and fire.

  ‘Crazy little Twist.’

  Slowly, the wave retreats into the ocean in a movement as unnatural as when it was bidden. In its wake, it leaves nothing but wet concrete, smashed glass, and broken bodies.

  Sylvia limps towards the steps. ‘This way.’

  I glance over my shoulder. The Blotter who caught me is sitting on the arm of the statue. A smile spreads across his face. With his fingers and thumb, he mimes a gun and points it at me and Elle.

  I’m going to kill that bastard.

  But right now, Elle is more important.

  I pull her head closer to my chest, and I head after the Darlings.

  Elle sleeps.

  Her chest moves softly up and down, and her lips are tinted blue. One of her eyes is bruised and swollen, and her wet hair is splayed out on the cream pillow. A patch of damp spreads like ink beneath her head.

  I refuse to move from the chair beside the bed. Every hour she doesn’t stir, my muscles get a little harder. Every hour she sleeps, another weight is added to my chest until it’s so fucking heavy I think my ribs will crack.

  We’re like this for twenty-five hours before she finally opens her eyes. ‘Jay?’

  I can breathe again. I grip the mattress. ‘Fuck. You scared the shit out of me, little Twist.’

  She touches my cheek. ‘Likewise.’

  ‘You were fucking amazing out there. What you did—’

  ‘It wasn’t enough.’ Her face falls. ‘It’s never enough.’

  ‘What do you—?’ I look over my shoulder when I hear a noise. Sylvia is standing in the doorway.

  ‘She wakes and her first thought is of the Blotter . . .’ she says.

  ‘Oh. You’re here,’ I say.

  Her left leg is stiff as she walks over. She looks me up and down. I’ve not washed or changed since the tsunami, and her nose turns up. ‘You look like shit, Blotter. Smell like it too. Go get changed. Tom is—’

  ‘Fuck off.’ If she thinks I’m leaving Elle, she’s insane.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ She perches on the edge of the bed and turns her attention to Elle. ‘How you feeling? You gave us quite a scare, sweetie.’

  ‘Fine.’ She swallows. ‘Thirsty.’

  I grab the beaker of water from the bedside table. She props herself up on the pillows to drink half of it. Some of the water misses her mouth and dribbles down her chin.

  ‘He’s right, you know,’ says Sylvia. ‘What you did was incredible. Clever too. Using the Creators’ story against them.’

  ‘What?’ I say.

  Sylvia tuts. Elle grabs my hand before I can snap at her. I curl my fingers around hers, the weight of her grip causing something warm to spread inside of me.

  ‘I couldn’t get them to believe in me, or in our stories of hope or change or revolution,’ she says. ‘But they believe we are monsters. The Creators made sure of that. It’s the story they have been spreading about Darlings for all their lives. So when I said the Tsunami was caused by an explosion we’d planned . . .’ She shakes her head. ‘They believed it without question.’

  ‘Like I said, clever,’ says Sylvia. ‘Although maybe not hugely helpful to our cause in the long run. Taking out an entire square of people does add to the whole ‘Darlings are dangerous’ narrative.’

  Elle lets go of my hand and slumps back down on her pillows. ‘What cause? You were right. Both of you.’ She turns onto her side, away from us both. ‘I’m done.’

  Elle is exhausted. She spends most of the next few days in bed. She sleeps. And she stirs. And through the day, she stares blankly at the peeling wallpaper. She doesn’t wonder. She doesn’t tell stories about factories of stars,
or clockmakers, or dandelion seeds. Her conversations are fragmented and broken.

  ‘I killed all those people.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘It’s not good, Jay. I feel bad.’

  ‘What the fuck else were you supposed to do?’

  I lie beside her, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make this right.

  ‘I thought the world could be fixed. But how can you fix a world that doesn’t know it’s broken?’

  ‘I don’t know, little Twist.’

  ‘I’m tired. I’m so tired.’

  And on the nights, I feel her pain as she sinks her teeth into my bottom lip and digs her fingernails into the skin of my back. I hear it in the raw cry that escapes her throat when she comes, and I see it in her eyes as the world comes flooding back.

  ‘Why did my father leave me that story? What is the point if it can’t change anything?’

  ‘That’s not what you said before, little Twist.’

  ‘I was wrong.’

  And eventually, not knowing any of the fucking answers, I take to wandering aimlessly around the library.

  It’s boring, wandering around dusty old books I can’t read, but I talk to the others. Mary tells me this place used to be the Citadel. Tom gives me a load of his old clothes and tells me the broadcasts are saying we all died in the explosion we caused. I help Anita and Rami to fix the engine on the van. I even have a clipped conversation with Sylvia.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me to leave?’ I ask her.

  ‘Because it’s a long time since I’ve seen her get close to anyone,’ she says. ‘And as much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re good for her, Blotter.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem like it right now.’

  ‘No. It doesn’t. But that’s not because of you. I think we all have a moment in our lives when the realisation the world is shitter than we thought hits us. It hardens us one way or another. This is one of those moments for Elle. She’ll get through it. You’ll see.’

  Later, when I get fed up of the musty air, I go above ground to the weird courtyard that sits outside one of the bunker-like entrances to the library. It must have been a part of the Citadel before it was hidden underground. I sit on one of the stone benches and look up at the starless sky. The air smells like the sea, and I hear the waves crashing against the rocks below.

  ‘Beer, Blotter?’ Raven passes me a bottle and sits beside me.

  ‘Cheers,’ I say, taking it.

  We sit in silence for a while, and it doesn’t feel forced or uncomfortable.

  ‘How’s she doing?’ she asks.

  I shake my head slowly, staring at the grey pavement slabs between my boots. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

  We both turn as someone approaches. Mary is on the other side of the courtyard.

  ‘Raven, can you come help me out with something in the library?’

  ‘Yeah. Sure. Be there in a sec.’

  Mary smiles, and her eyes glint as they hold Raven’s for a second too long. Then she heads back down into the library. Raven watches her intently before turning back around.

  ‘Were you just staring at her arse?’ I say.

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Yeah, you were.’

  ‘Oh, piss off, Blotter.’ There’s a smile tugging at the corner of her lip, though, as she gets up and brushes down her dark jeans.

  I raise my eyebrows as she walks away. ‘Have fun . . .’

  She laughs. ‘Prick.’

  I fiddle with the glass bottle until the darkness shifts to grey. I want to do something, anything, to help. But what can I do?

  After a while, I get up, and I walk.

  I walk away from the library. I walk down the long streets in the Draft as dawn approaches. I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going. Maybe I’m looking for a Blotter to beat the shit out of. Maybe I want to see the aftermath of Elle’s tsunami. Maybe I just want to get rid of some of this tension that’s building inside of me.

  I turn a corner, and I freeze.

  My heart jolts.

  Then I turn and run back down the streets.

  I tear through the library and burst into the bedroom. The door swings against the wall.

  Elle’s eyes widen. ‘Jay? What’s wrong?’

  I shake my head. Then I cross the room and take her hands in mine.

  ‘You’re sad,’ I say, ‘because you don’t think anyone will believe your story. You don’t think you can spread your dandelion seeds. Right, little Twist?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I pull her across the room. ‘Come on.’

  I lead her through the library, up the stairs, and then through the streets. When we reach my destination, she freezes, and her breath catches in her throat.

  ‘What was that thing your father used to say, little Twist?’ I ask.

  ‘Stories will always grow.’ A tear slips down her cheek, and a smile spreads across her face.

  I smile too. Then I brush my lips against hers, slipping one hand into her hair and one onto the small of her back. I pull her into my body. She kisses me back, and her laughter vibrates against my skin. I laugh too.

  She pulls back. ‘They believe.’

  ‘It’s only small, little Twist. Let’s not get carried away.’

  She beams, and her eyes are bright. ‘It’s enough. For now.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s enough,’ I say as I kiss her forehead.

  I slip my arm around her back, and together, we look at it.

  The burst of yellow in the field of grey concrete.

  The dandelion in the crack in the pavement.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to everyone who read A Circus of Ink in its early stages. I had a similar mindset to Jay when I was drafting this book - I felt like there was a small dandelion seed of potential in it, but I was stressed, anxious, and I almost gave up on it a few times! Thank you to those who believed in this story when I was struggling to.

  Thank you to Bryony Leah for all your hard work on the copy edits. This is the second book we’ve worked on together, and as with the first, it was a joy to work with you.

  Thank you to Franzi Haase at CoverDungeon for your work on the cover. I love it.

  Thank you to Jamie for listening to my constant chatter about Twists, hurricanes, and dandelions over the years.

  And lastly, thank you to you. Thank you for taking a chance on this book and coming on this journey with Elle and Jay. I hope to see you in book two for the conclusion of their journey.

  About the Author

  Lauren Palphreyman is an author based in London. She writes books full of romance and magic. She writes serially online, and her stories have garnered over 70 million views. Her other books, Cupid’s Match and Devils Inc., are out now. A Circus of Ink is her third published novel.

  Connect with Lauren by following her on Instagram (@LaurenPalphreyman), Twitter (@LEPalphreyman), or Facebook (@LEPalphreyman). Or visit her website: www.LaurenPalphreyman.com.

  Keep up to date with her new releases by signing up to her mail list here.

  Also by Lauren Palphreyman

  A Circus of Ink Duology:

  A Circus of Ink

  Devils Inc. Series:

  Devils Inc.

  Cupid’s Match:

  Cupid’s Match

  Follow Lauren Palphreyman on social media to find out more:

  Instagram: @LaurenPalphreyman

  Twitter: @LEPalphreyman

  Facebook: @LEPalphreyman

  Website: www.LaurenPalphreyman.com

  Devils Inc.

  The awkward moment when you exchange your soul for free Wi-Fi. . .

  The past twenty-four hours have been pretty weird for pre-law student Rachel Mortimer.

  She accidentally sold her soul to the Devil. An Angel showed up in her bedroom. And an irritatingly hot Bad Omen has been following her around campus.

  Now she has to intern at Devils Inc. – Lucifer’s LA based soul trad
ing company. And demons are trying to kill her. The undead want her legal advice. And she’s starting to catch feelings for someone she shouldn’t.

  Oh, and someone has triggered the Apocalypse.

  So she should probably stop that. . .

  Find out more:

  www.LaurenPalphreyman.com

  Cupid’s Match

  He's mythologically hot, a little bit wicked, almost 100% immortal. And he'll hit you right in the heart.

  Seventeen-year-old Lila Black is sick of the Cupids Matchmaking Service spamming her. But her world is turned inside out when she learns not only that cupids exist, but that she's been matched with the infamous god of love, Cupid.

  The only catch? She can't actually fall for Cupid; if she does, all of mythical hell will break loose, and it won't be pretty . . .

  As arrows fly and feelings become stronger, can Cupid and Lila resist each other's magnetic pull? And will Lila find herself part of a deadly supernatural war that could cost her life, and her heart?

  Find out more:

  www.LaurenPalphreyman.com