by Laura Lam
I paced the stage, wringing my hands.
"I must warn him!" I muttered. "I must tell him that he can never hope to defeat the beasts, and that he must return to Kymri, to never see me again. It's the only way to save him." I wrapped a cloak about myself, leaving the palace and "fighting" my way through the prop trees to the side of the circus ring.
But the king, watching from a window of the set, saw me leave.
"Fool! Come here!" he cried.
Jive, who played the part of the Fool, bounded onto the stage. "What is your wish, Your Highness?" he asked, bowing so low his nose nearly touched the floor.
"First, return my daughter to me," he commanded.
The Fool raced across the stage. I saw him coming and ran about, hiding behind the trees to the chasing music. The Fool laughed as he hunted and grabbed me, throwing me over his shoulder. I kicked my feet and banged my fists against his back, but he dragged me to the king as if I weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.
"Thank you, my most faithful servant. Now, throw her into the Penglass tower, for… safekeeping."
More hisses from the audience.
"The Penglass Prison!" I cried. "Help! Father! Please!"
Jive threw me into the Penglass tower, which was no more than a pen of cheap bubbled glass painted blue. He waggled his fingers at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed and returned to his master.
"Now, I am sending you forth to deal with a little… problem of mine, brave Fool."
The audience hissed again.
I gasped. "Not the beasts, Father!" I cried, pounding my fists – gently – against the walls of my prison.
He grinned and laughed, an evil sound that echoed about the tent.
"Oh yes, my daughter. The beasts."
He muttered an incantation, and the tent filled with smoke and stars once again.
When the smoke cleared, the contortionists and acrobats twisted their bodies into knots, balancing on balls or ladders. Several men catcalled and threw coins into the ring in appreciation, which the contortionists picked up with their toes.
In the sidelines again, I wondered if the pantomime was taking too much away from the circus. The audience whispered amongst themselves as Dot and the new contortionist, Ellen, performed.
A painted backdrop of a forest replaced the castle. Leander read the note of his challenge from the king aloud to the audience, visibly distraught.
"Beasts!" he cried. "The king himself shall set beasts on me. However shall I survive? For I have no magic, and no protection but this sword." He unsheathed it, holding it aloft, the metal catching the light.
Drystan returned to the little boy he had spoken to at the beginning of the pantomime.
"Eddie, my young knight-in-training, do you think I should battle for love?"
Eddie puffed himself up. "Will you die?" he asked.
"I hope not, but it is a very real possibility. Most of what is worth fighting for is worth dying for, many say."
Eddie bit his lip. "You should fight, but don't die. Otherwise, I'll never be a knight."
Laughter rippled through the audience. The circus should hire this boy for all of our shows in Imachara. Drystan saluted Eddie. "I shall do my best, young sir." The boy sat back in his seat, beaming from ear to ear.
But despite the comforting words of the young boy, Leander prayed. The light outlined the fine planes of his face and turned his white hair into a golden halo. My breath caught in my throat. I looked away from him to the backstage area, my gaze resting on Aenea. She was looking right at me, her eyes sad, as if she knew exactly what I had been thinking. I clasped my hands together tight, my fingernails digging into my palms.
High above us, the workers swapped several of the scarves around the glass globes, so that the colors shifted to sunset. More workers held a painted setting sun and a rising moon from behind the set.
"Lord and Lady, share your wisdom and light, Beasts and other demons come soon to fight, Born of the King's wicked greed and rancor, Will I live to see her whom I adore?"
For a moment, nothing happened. Sad strings played from the gramophone. I snuck a look at the stage. Leander bowed his head, defeated. Yet before him, a column of smoke swirled. My throat closed tight as I watched from the Penglass prison.
The Phantom Damselfly appeared. The audience recoiled in their seats, some hastily muttering prayers of their own. Leander gazed up at the Damselfly in awe.
"What magic is this? A Chimaera fairy has come to visit me. I am unworthy."
The Damselfly only flapped her wings in response, as ever. She lingered, her upturned face looking at something far away, and faded. She glanced over her shoulder at me just before she disappeared from sight, her eyes locking with mine.
But no one else would have seen that.
I shivered, my fingertips pressing so hard against the cheap glass I thought I might break it.
Where the Damselfly had been, a shiny new sword was stuck into the sand and sawdust of the circus ring.
"A gift from the Lord and Lady!" Leander exclaimed, circling the sword, which had a sun and moon stylized on the hilt. He pulled it from the sand, and sparks flew in all directions. The audience clapped wildly.
"Let the king send his beasts!" Leander called. "I am ready for them."
Intermission was called and Bil urged the audience to pay special attention to the lovely girls selling sweets and treats making their way along the stands. In the darkened light, the circus workers took advantage of the break, lowering hoops from the ceiling and pushing jumping blocks onto the ring.
A few horse riders began the start of the animal section of the circus. The horses jumped through hoops and over the posts and the riders stood on their hands and flipped and landed on the saddles of cantering beasts, the tent filling with the sounds of hoof beats.
"I cannot let him perish for me," I cried as Iona, wringing my hands in distress. "Perhaps I should free myself from this mortal coil." I raised my hands to the heavens in supplication, and said the words I had said so many times before:
"Oh, moon and stars, lord and lady on high – Shine your light on a wretch whose end is nigh.
Leander, my love, is in danger so true.
My cheek's petals are now heavy with dew.
"Please, moon and stars, lord and lady, free me From this life full of lonesome agony If no more my lips will his fingers trace I'll trade him for sable death's sweet embrace."
But there was no answer, and I lost my nerve and collapsed into tears as the limelight faded from my prison. In darkness, I sat up, glowering. After playing Iona so many times, I thoroughly hated her character. Though she tried to escape once, she did not try again, and mewled and cried and hoped for someone else to take her fate in hand.
"Fool!" the king cried. "I summon thee."
The fool bowed low before him again. The king took out a magic wand from his robes. He muttered incantations under his breath, made up words that changed from practice to practice and show to show. Smoke covered the fool's form, and a loud crack sounded. The smoke cleared and the fool was gone. A Naga replaced him – Nina the snake charmer – wearing a dress that left her arms and midriff bare, every bit of skin painted with green scales, a green snake twined about her waist. She hissed.
"Go and find the Kymri Prince Leander, and finish him," the king commanded. "I have protected you from death, but it will only work thrice." The Naga bowed, her nose almost touching the floor.
Leander appeared on the stage, brandishing his magic sword. "Lord and Lady, guide my blade!" he cried. The Naga raised her hands, gathering her evil snake magic, but Leander flipped out of the way, dancing about her. The fight continued for some time with choreographed moves, until Leander stabbed her with the sword. She let out a shriek and disappeared in smoke and sparks.
Leander chuckled. "That wasn't too hard, now, was it?"
He sauntered off the ring, and the play paused for the circus act of the strong man, Karg.
Afterwa
rd, Leander sauntered about the stage, smug at his defeat of the beast.
"Behind you! Behind you!" The audience cried.
Leander turned with exaggerated slowness. A gargoyle demon – Sayid – approached, his skin slathered in greyand-black greasepaint, blood dripping from his fangs, his wings made of paper and cloth-wrapped wire.
Leander held his sword aloft and they fought, the demon dancing about Leander, throwing insults and taunts at him. Leander swung wildly, his sword flashing. The demon flew above him, cackling, the thin rope holding him aloft barely visible. He circled Leander.
The Kymri Prince back flipped and attacked the flying gargoyle, and Sayid fell to the floor, false blood spurting from a wound in his side. He, too, disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Next came the otters, who stood on their haunches and swayed back and forth in unison to a tune played by the gramophone. Then came Karla with her particularly well-trained horse, who could "count" to any number the audience demanded as long as Karla never released the reins. Saitha also made an appearance. One lucky child in the crowd was chosen at random and the elephant picked him up in her trunk and deposited him onto her back and walked about the ring to great applause and cheers.
Leander had barely recovered from the demon before the last of the beasts attacked. Tauro, the fearsome Minotaur, held a double-edged battle-axe and roared. Several members of the audience screamed. Tauro the Minotaur charged Drystan, who danced nimbly away. They circled each other in their fighting dance – Tauro rushing him with brute strength and Drystan showcasing his acrobatics. Like the others, Tauro fell beneath the blade and disappeared, replaced by the Fool.
The king rushed to the body of his fallen servant.
"What fool am I, to waste my faithful Fool, For my own, selfish pride. Am I a ghoul, My soul too haunted by dreams of power?
Iona's love – I'll not disallow her."
Freed from the prison, I rested my head on his shoulder. "Let not your greed control you any longer, my king," I said.
He rose and nodded, taking my hand and Drystan's. "I hereby abdicate, after the wedding. Long may Leander and Iona rule Ellada in peace and glory."
The tumblers and clowns reappeared for a slightly longer interlude while I dashed backstage, found my corner shrouded in darkness where I had laid out the wedding dress for the final scene. It would have been far easier to have my acrobat costume on underneath already, but the collar was too high and showed under both dresses.
I slid on my aerialist's costume, looked behind me and tried not to jump in shock. Aenea was no more than two meters away and staring in my general direction, her face expressionless. I did not know how long she had been there or how much she had seen. She could not have seen anything, I comforted myself. My back was turned to her and it's too dark. I smoothed my hands along the front of my costume, feeling the stiff fabric of the Linde garment.
I put a blue cap over my plaited hair and took Aenea's hand. We had no time to speak before our act, though I squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.
We performed the final trapeze act without flaw, and the usual feeling of rightness bled through me. I counted internally, matching my breath, holding out my hands to catch Aenea at just the right moment.
After the last bow, I scurried to my corner and peeled off the damp trapeze costume, wiped off the sweat with a cloth, and shimmied into Iona's wedding gown. It was a ridiculous cake of a dress, a garment of pale pink satin, festooned with cloth roses, false pearls, and glass cut jewels. Its bodice was as low as it could be without the false cotton breasts peeking out.
I untied my scarf and tidied my hair, adding touches of paint to my face in the mirror. I inspected myself in satisfaction. The arms poking out of the capped sleeves were a bit too muscular for a woman's, and I had a small bump in my throat when I swallowed, but aside from that, I was convincing enough.
Aenea found me again. She was wearing her costume as the Lady of the Moon, and looked radiant to me. The long silver robe caught the light, and she wore a crescent moon made of tin nestled into her hair.
Her gaze slid past me and she blinked and whipped her head back to me again. No one had seen me in the final dress as it had only just been finished the night before. Frit was meant to have sewn it, but when she left, the other precious few people in the circus who knew how to stitch had to take turns on completing all of the costumes. "Micah?"
I gave her my best court curtsey. "My lady?" I said in my old feminine tones, ones that felt unfamiliar to my throat now.
Her eyes were wide. She circled me slowly, taking in the tight fit of my mostly-false bosom, the narrow waist above the flared petticoats and skirts. "You're a prettier girl than I am!" she said, indignant.
I snorted. "Hardly." I had never thought I was much to look at as a woman.
The other circus performers waiting backstage catcalled and whistled at me softly, and I batted my eyelashes at them, reveling in every drop of affection they poured for me. Rian squeezed one of my semi-false breasts and complimented how lovely they were and I blushed and turned my face away from him. I was surprised to realize that even though I had resented being forced to wear dresses my whole life, now that it was a choice I quite liked it.
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.
27
SUMMER: SHADOW ON THE SEASON
"There's a sense of community in the circus. They were my family, with certain members all at one time or another playing the roles of a mother, a father, a loveable uncle, an errant child. Through the good times and the bad, and even with old members left and new members joined, we knew that we could count on each other. Oh, we fought and we argued, but to this day if I saw a former member of my circus walking down the streets of Imachara, I would trot up to them and throw my arms around them, as if greeting one of my dearest friends."
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.