High Flyer (The Magic Carnival Book 4)

by Trudi Jaye

  “Let. Me. Go.” Missy said, her voice low and hard. She wrenched her arm free of his grip.

  His eyes filled and a tear escaped. He wiped it away angrily. “I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I need to get out,” he whispered.

  Missy sighed. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  He hesitated. “Sam.”

  “Listen, Sam. I don’t know you. I don’t know if you’re secretly doing this to help Veronica. I can’t take that risk.” Missy already had too many people relying on her to get them out. She didn’t even know if she could do that much.

  “I’m not. I promise you. Ask your father about me. He knows me well enough by now.”

  Missy glanced at her father again. It wasn’t like he was a great judge of character. “I’ll talk to him and see what he says,” she said. She held up a hand when he gave her a brilliant smile. “But not now, not while you’re here. And I might still say no.”

  “Talk to your father. He’ll vouch for me.”

  Missy nodded. “No promises.”

  “I’ll go now anyway. But I’ll be back later.” He left quickly, glancing back at Missy, hope in his eyes she wished she couldn’t see.

  Missy sat next to her mother on the bed and put an arm around her shoulders.

  “I was just telling your mother everything is going to be fine,” said Christoph.

  Barb’s face was blank and she was smiling at Christoph. “Of course it will be, my love,” she replied.

  Missy hugged her tight. “We’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

  “Get out of here? Oh, darling, I don’t want to leave. I like it here.” As Barb’s face fell, Missy’s heart plummeted into her stomach. The last thing they needed was her mother fighting them as they left.

  “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything is going to be fine,” she repeated lamely.

  “You’re not going anywhere?”

  “No, Mom. I’m not going anywhere.” Much. Missy crossed her fingers behind her back and looked at her father. He was staring at Barb, his expression a mixture of love and despair.

  Remembering what the doctor had said, she tried to distract her father. “What do you know about the doctor, Sam?”

  Christoph blinked and looked at her. “He’s a nice enough fellow.”

  “Nice enough to trust?”

  Christoph paused and thought about it. “Sure. He’s not in Veronica’s pocket, if that’s what you mean. She’s got something on him and that’s why he’s here.”

  “Something that’ll mean he’ll turn on us?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”

  “Then why did you tell him about our plans?” Missy fought to hold back her frustration.

  “He guessed. And he seemed pretty desperate.” Dark smudges shadowed her father’s face, and the healing cuts made him seem pale. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Missy frowned. Sam had been very sure her father would vouch for him, but his answers were less than encouraging. Based on what her father just said, she wasn’t prepared to take him anywhere.

  ***

  Zeph sat watching the rehearsal, his eyes glued to the performance rings inside The Experiment. It was the first time he’d been in the main tent, and he was impressed. When Veronica told him he wasn’t ready to be in the show this weekend, he’d been disappointed but resigned. She’d promised him they’d keep working with him as Ringmaster and he’d be able to do it at some point.

  In the meantime, he could watch Missy and Alphonso, and the rest of the acts, and help Veronica by pointing out any mistakes they made.

  He’d seen the little girl in the current act around the house they were staying in. She was cute, although her sparkly stage costume made her seem a little older than he’d thought she was. Her hair was up and she had on a ton of makeup. He tried to remember her name. Kathryn? Karen?

  Right now, she was on a spinning wheel. Her hands and feet were tied to the contraption. Zeph vaguely wondered if that was safe. Didn’t they usually just let the person hold on, rather than being tied on? He wasn’t sure.

  He didn’t recognize the woman with all the knives standing opposite the little girl, but it wasn’t her mother; that much he knew. She bowed to the nonexistent audience and held up the knives in her hands. She was tall and beautiful, her long blond hair held up in a matching style to the little girl’s.

  Almost without warning, she spun and threw the first knife. It seemed like she hadn’t even prepared or looked at the wheel; it was so fast. The knife slammed into the wooden wheel millimetres to the left of the young girl’s ear. The little girl screamed.

  Zeph stood, the fog over his brain moving away as he watched the fear on the girl’s face. Kitten. That was her name. And she didn’t like this one bit.

  Another knife was thrown, almost without a care from the woman.

  The knife hit the wood of the wheel just under her right arm. Kitten jerked and started crying.

  The woman throwing the knives said something to Kitten, and the girl’s eyes opened wide and she made an obvious attempt to stop crying.

  He walked toward the ring, anger at the way Kitten was being treated swelling inside him. It had pulled him out of Veronica’s spell, and while he was grateful, he was really just concerned about getting Kitten off that contraption.

  “Hey,” he said as he walked closer to the ring.

  The woman looked over at him, anger on her face. She didn’t answer him, simply spinning and throwing another knife at Kitten.

  Kitten screamed again as the knife slammed into the wood high between her legs, almost touching her. She was sobbing, the makeup on her face dripping with her tears.

  “Get her off there. She’s terrified.”

  A large man appeared out of nowhere in front of him. “No interrupting the rehearsal, sir.”

  “Can’t you see how frightened that little girl is? We can’t stand by and let that happen.”

  “It’s all part of the act,” he replied, his unblinking eyes showing no emotion.

  “That girl is hysterical. Kids her age can’t fake that. Get out of my way.” Zeph tried to push past and discovered, despite his own size, this guy was bigger and stronger. He was roughly pushed to the ground like a doll. A kick to his stomach knocked the wind out of him, and he lay gasping for breath.

  “You try anything else and I’ll make it worse for you,” said the security guard.

  Zeph counted to ten, trying to push the rage he was feeling down to manageable levels before he stood. There was no way he was going to leave this, but he needed to think it through. How was he going to stop the act and avoid the man-mountain who’d just toppled him as if he were a fly? He needed someone else to help.

  He sat up slowly, holding his hands up to show he wasn’t going to try anything, and looked around. The area was almost empty, as if none of the others were really that interested in watching the other acts. They were too isolated in their own minds. There was no real sense of community here, not like at the Carnival—or at least what he remembered of the Carnival.

  Another knife slammed into the wood, and Zeph flinched. He turned back to the act and saw Kitten on the wheel, struggling to get herself free.

  The woman with the knives only had one more, and she was turning around toward the audience seating again, getting ready to do her spin, when Kitten got one hand free.

  “No! Kitten, don’t move!” Zeph yelled, but it was too late.

  Kitten had reached over with her free hand and was trying to loosen the ropes on the other. The woman spun and threw the knife, and instead of the thunk of wood, the sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh was all that could be heard. Kitten screamed, this time a blood-curdling howl of pain and terror.

  “You stupid girl! What are you doing? You’ve ruined my act!” the woman yelled at Kitten.

  Zeph ran toward Kitten, no longer concerned with the security guard or what anyone might do to him. Kitten needed help
and she obviously wasn’t going to get it from the woman throwing the knives.

  He reached the wheel and found the lever that stopped its spinning at the back. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, whispering the words over and over. Kitten was sobbing, each gasping breath tearing a little more at Zeph’s heart.

  The wheel stopped, and he was able to assess the damage properly. The knife had landed in the back of Kitten’s small birdlike arm. It was sticking out from her body, the shiny metal a sharp contrast to her pale skin.

  “It’s going to be okay, Kitten. Just take deep breaths, and I’m going to get you down from here. Then we’ll get you fixed up.” He started to undo the ropes at her hand.

  “Don’t you dare touch her! She can stay up there as punishment, the stupid girl!” The blonde’s high-pitched voice was almost hysterical.

  “You just knifed a little girl. You can damn well make yourself useful and go find a doctor.”

  “She ruined my act!”

  Zeph turned to the woman, anger blazing out of his very pores. “You better do what I say right now, or so help me…” He shook his head, unable to think of a suitable punishment for what this woman had done.

  She sniffed and then flounced away. Zeph narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t put it past her to ignore the need for medical attention and just leave.

  The security guard came over, and Zeph prepared himself for another battle, but the big man just started to undo the ropes holding Kitten’s feet to the wheel. The girl was whimpering now, and she’d gone very pale.

  “We need to get her to a doctor,” said Zeph.

  The security guard nodded. “Follow me,” he said, his voice quiet.

  Zeph picked up Kitten and carried her out of the tent, following the security guard. “It’s going to be okay, Kitten,” he said. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “That’s what they all say,” whispered Kitten, her eyes closed, her face scrunched up in pain. “Then they get sucked into Veronica’s magic and forget.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Missy arrived in time to see a tall blond woman arguing with Veronica in the backstage area of The Experiment. Her dress rehearsal performance with Alphonso was due to start in about half an hour, and she needed to warm up, but she couldn’t help watching.

  “She ruined my act! That little brat did it on purpose,” the blonde was saying.

  “Where is she now?” asked Veronica sharply.

  “That big meathead you’ve had drooling over you took her away.”

  “Zeph? He took her away?” Veronica’s voice was like ice. Missy couldn’t believe the other woman didn’t hear the warning in her tone.

  “Stupid idiot tried to interfere when she was complaining about being on the wheel. Then he came rushing over like he thought he was saving her from me.”

  “You put a knife in Kitten’s arm, Monica.” Veronica’s voice was like steel. “I’d stay away from Daphne for a while. You never know what she’ll do to get back at you for harming her daughter.”

  Monica’s face paled and a look of comprehension dawned on her features. “She moved! I didn’t do anything but my job! It was that idiot child that ruined it!” she said desperately.

  Missy didn’t hear any more. Kitten is injured? The only thing that kept her calm was knowing Zeph was with her, and his actions indicated he’d been pulled out of his trance. He would make sure she was okay.

  She considered not doing her rehearsal and going to find Kitten and Zeph. The temptation was strong—until she remembered what Veronica did when she found out Missy was disobeying her orders. It wouldn’t take long to do the act and then go find Kitten.

  She rushed through getting changed into the black-and-white full body Lycra suit they’d decided on for their act. The makeup artist pulled her hair back and into a tight bun and did her stage makeup as they’d requested.

  She saw Alphonso leaving the dressing rooms and caught up with him along the corridor. “Did you hear about Kitten?” she asked, watching his reactions carefully. She still couldn’t tell if Alphonso was in Veronica’s pocket or not. He seemed aloof, as if he were separate from Veronica’s machinations. But his lack of action against them implied a tacit approval that was hard to ignore.

  “I heard. She’s being seen by the doctor and will no doubt be fine.”

  “Why would Veronica put a child her age on the wheel? It’s terrifying.”

  “It’s called The Experiment for a reason, Missy. Think of our own act. We are not doing the traditional sort of flying act, are we?”

  “But we’re both adults, trained in this since we were young. Kitten told me that was her first time in the ring. On the damn wheel.”

  Alphonso tightened his lips and didn’t reply. He strode along the hallway to the main ring, his long legs eating up the distance. Missy had to run to catch up.

  “Running away from me won’t make it better,” she said.

  He stopped suddenly and turned to face Missy, who almost crashed right into him. He reached out and steadied her with long fingers that clenched her arms too tight. “If you wish to survive, if you wish to live longer than others who have questioned Veronica, you must shut up. Everything we do and say is available for her to hear. Do not think you are free to speak. You are not. Now let us perform and create a sensation.”

  Missy caught her breath. It was the first time the older man had spoken so openly to her. The anger in his voice was raw and his emotion had been painful to see.

  But he was right. They would go out there and do the act they’d been practicing and say no more. This wasn’t the place to plan anything. A chill worked its way down her spine. According to Alphonso, there was nowhere they were safe to talk.

  She shook out her shoulders and prepared to climb the backstage ladder to the performance area. Their act was the one aspect of being at The Experiment she was pleased with. Alphonso had worked them both hard, and they’d tested a lot of ideas. This performance wasn’t the most cutting-edge or avant-garde. But it was one that showcased both their talents in a new way. It would make the audience gasp in fear and wonder and make them want to come back for more.

  But if everything went according to plan, she’d never get to perform it in front of a packed house.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Veronica had stopped listening to what the woman was saying. She was a minor talent with the ability to—usually—find her mark with the knives. That the idiot hadn’t this time was going to cost Veronica with both Daphne and Marco. They’d been unhappy with her decision to put Kitten in the show, and she’d done it anyway to prove her point. Now the damn girl had a knife sticking out of her.

  Without thinking about it, she pulled curse magic from the air around her and pushed it at Kitten, helping the young girl with her pain and making sure the doctor, Sam, did his job properly. She felt the girl’s breathing steady. Good.

  And now she was going to watch the act Missy and Alphonso had created. The Italian had been secretive about it, but that was nothing new. He’d been with her a long time, and he’d never been one to open up. They’d developed an uneasy truce over the years—he let her get on with her business, and she mostly left him to his.

  The strange relationship he’d developed with Zeph’s mother perplexed her. The woman was an idiot, a pawn in their plans to gather actual talent like Zeph. She didn’t understand what he could possibly see in her. She’d even used her magic to spy on them when they thought they were alone. It had been banal and boring and involved long silences.

  She shook her head. It didn’t matter, as long as he did what he needed to do for The Experiment.

  She seated herself to one side of the audience seating, hiding in the darkness. She nodded at a few of the crew loitering around, waiting to see the show as well. Alphonso always created a sensation when he did a new performance, and working with Missy was something different.

  The main lights dimmed and went out, a single spotlight pointed toward the platform abo
ve their heads, where a figure could be seen. Missy waved. The light went out. Another opened up on Alphonso on the other side of the trapeze space, on the opposite platform. He saluted the audience. The light went out.

  The sound of thunder rattled around the tent. Seconds later, the lights flashed in imitation of lightning; then it was black again.

  In the darkness, nothing seemed to stir for a moment, and then out of the darkness, two elegant streaks of light appeared, dancing across the air above them. Tiny lights flashed over their skintight suits, marking out the lines of a lightning strike. The sound of thunder rattled around them again, and the lights on their suits went off again. Veronica shivered in anticipation.

  They moved fast, flashing and flickering through the air. Veronica could barely make out the catches and the flying—she was so caught up in the movement. The overhead lights flashed with lightning again, illuminating the two performers, before sending their act back into almost complete darkness. Their suits flashed with copycat lighting before going dark again.

  They spun through the air like raindrops on the storm they were part of, no effort required to keep their momentum going or to put their bodies into the right places. They were essentially working on rhythm, because it was just as dark up there as it was in the audience. Even when the lighting flashed, it was more disorienting than helpful.

  They were doing the trapeze blind, and it was spectacular.

  Alphonso had always been great, had always been a master in his performance. But what she was seeing before her now was taking the trapeze to another level. Veronica held her breath for a moment, imagining the energy that would be generated from the audience watching a show like this.

  What would it be like if Missy used curse magic before the act? Veronica shivered, imagining the raw power she would be able to tap into. Maybe Marco would be able to leave his bed. Perhaps he might walk. The thought was so stunning she couldn’t think of anything else as she watched the rest of the show.