by Gwenda Bond
The net Dez had called for had saved me from hitting the ground. From a broken arm, or a broken neck. Or worse.
My face burned with humiliation.
The crowd seemed baffled, but they were applauding anyway. I leapt free of the net, looking for my mother. She caught me, holding tight to my arm, and said urgently into my ear, “I told you to stop this. To leave. But here you are, still taking risks you can’t afford to.”
“I’ve been looking for the coin, for you . . .”
“Stop.” She gave me a soft push, but there must have been some magic in it. The ground seemed to waver beneath my feet, and I fell back into the mesh.
“Wait!” I said, forcing my way out of the net. I tore through the crowd, searching for her.
Dez caught up with me and grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?”
I continued to scan the crowd. “Did you see her?”
Dez put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. He was pale, but also furious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about . . . Or what you’re thinking. I can’t watch you keep risking your life!”
Oh God, what was I doing? He’s right. I almost died.
Because my mother had distracted me, and then prevented me from using my magic. But still.
The same magic she’d told me to stop using. This visit had been to deliver a message: I told you to stop.
“Nothing to say,” he said. “What a miracle.”
“Dez, wait!” I called to the back of his head as he vanished into the crowd.
There was nothing left to do. If I wanted him on my side—if I wanted him, period—I’d have to tell him the truth.
twenty-five
Still spooked from my mother’s latest abrupt appearance and disappearance, I tracked Dez to his bunk later that evening, after he was done for the day. I needed one person to understand.
No, I needed Dez to.
Hitting the ground wasn’t the only thing the net saved me from. It was the thing that saved me from losing my job. While Thurston was no longer a fan of this particular escape, he agreed to let me continue opening for Raleigh. I had a couple of days off, though, due to back bruising and Thurston wanting to make sure I didn’t have any hidden injuries.
It was going to be a relief to tell Dez the truth; I’d almost forgotten how to, and in so short a time. Maybe using magic did change me.
When I reached the semi, Dez was flat on his back in bed, worrying one of my gold prop coins in his fingers. He tossed it up into the air, caught it, and rolled it between his knuckles, then repeated.
I stood there for a long moment, searching for words and coming up with none. I wondered if it might be better off just leaving . . .
“Yes?” he said.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Your shadow. You’re looming.”
I decided to take the fact that he hadn’t told me to leave as an invitation to stay. I eased into the sleeping compartment, overheated from the day’s sun, and sat at the end of the bunk. “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it? Some ethical argument about why risking your life is okay? I seem to remember you saying that it wasn’t. But that’s what you’ve been doing.”
I’d never seen him quite like this.
“No,” I said. “I came to say you’re right. And to explain. Why I thought it was okay.”
He sat up, his expression one of disbelief. “You made me light that rope on fire, and then I stood there watching you struggle. If I hadn’t . . .”
My throat went dry as I remembered. If he hadn’t been there and called for the net, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I’d be lucky if I were conscious. Calling for magic and having it not show had been terrifying . . . Mom’s lesson had been harsh. She’d made her point that I couldn’t count on being safe here. But that didn’t mean I agreed with her conclusion that I had to go. I couldn’t.
No, I wouldn’t.
“I owe you an explanation,” I said.
“This should be good.”
I remembered how I’d worried about his black eye, knowing that weird creep had given it to him. Observing as I hung in midair about to fall would’ve been worse for him. No wonder he was so mad.
I probably shouldn’t have been telling him anything I was about to. But “probably shouldn’t” wasn’t stopping me much lately.
I cared for him, and he cared for me. I had to make this right.
“Moira?” he said, a note of exasperation in his tone.
“I learned magic in secret because I didn’t feel like I had a choice. My father . . . he caught me once when I was twelve and flipped out. Said women can’t be magicians. When I tried to show him this summer, he still wouldn’t listen. You’ve heard of the Mysterious Mitchell, Master Magician?”
“That’s your dad? You must be loaded.”
“He’s a powerful guy, hard to disagree with. So that’s why I’m here, the fake name, all of it. I’m doing this whether he wants me to or not.”
“You don’t have to risk your life.”
“That’s not the whole story,” I said. “You told me once you believe in the kind of thing I’m about to tell you. Though I sort of thought you were joking.”
“What kind of thing?” He tilted his head.
“In the Garcias’ coin, that magic is possible.”
He said nothing.
“That’s what I came here for tonight: to tell you I can do magic. Just since I got to the Cirque. It’s all new. I barely know what I’m doing, but I’m definitely using it,” I said, babbling. “And by it, I mean magic. Actual magic. Which shouldn’t even exist.”
He raised a hand, like he was warding me off. “You shouldn’t be telling me this.”
I was semi-surprised I hadn’t gotten a What are you talking about? But not entirely. “No kidding,” I said. There was no going back now. “But how can I not? I don’t want to lose you. Not over this—I feel like I have to tell someone, and I trust you.”
“Even though I told you not to.”
I nodded.
“You can do magic,” he said. “Like what?”
“Mostly, I, um, transform things. I can prove it, if you’re willing to believe me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to do magic right now?”
I shook my head and fished in my pocket. “You remember the day you had your heart pain? I was a little mad at you, and apparently my magic decided to lash out at you.”
“You made my heart go crazy like that?”
I unfolded my palm and showed him the heart-shaped penny. “This is the penny you gave me. It looked like this, um, after the event happened.”
“It’s a heart,” he said, dumbfounded.
“I think maybe it’s yours? A version of it.” “In for a penny, in for a pound,” as the saying went. “I was worried after that, well, that I . . . that I might hurt you. It’s part of the reason I tried to keep my distance. Not very successfully.”
He blinked at the heart-shaped penny. And said nothing.
How had I not guessed he wouldn’t take this in stride? It would be too much for anyone. I dropped the copper heart and buried my head in my hands. “Oh God, this is a disaster. You think I’m a total freak. Kill me now.”
And then he . . .
He laughed.
I heard it, and my head came up. He was doubled over. Laughing. “It’s just . . . magic. You can do magic. And I . . . I had no idea.”
I wanted to punch him.
Maybe he could see that in my face, because he sobered up fast.
“I don’t think you’re a freak,” he said. “I missed you.”
He leaned forward, reaching out for me. I met him halfway, and we kissed, soft and sweet. He smelled like Dez with a faint hint of sweat. My brain gave up. I would have told him anything. I would have forgiven him anything.
We parted.
He pulled me further into the compartment, and we sat facing each other. “This magic, though,” he said, “you menti
oned that you haven’t had it long. Does anyone else know about it?”
“Magic is inherited, I guess. I had never met my mom, but she showed up at our show in Saint Louis. The woman with bright-red hair and a snake tattoo—did you see her again today?”
“She was there today?” His surprise was plain.
“She probably didn’t want you to see her. She, um, stopped me from using my magic at the beginning of the escape today.”
“Why would she do that?” Dez demanded. “You were almost hurt.”
“She told me to stop doing my escapes before . . .” Might as well go all in, even if it meant breaking my promise to my mother. “She’s a member of something called the Praestigae. Have you ever heard of it? Them, I mean.”
He looked at me like this was too much to take in. So far, he’d taken everything in relative stride, but I was afraid he’d say yes or that he’d tell me to get out.
“Never,” he said.
“Apparently, there’s only so much magic everyone has, and she’s almost out. She’s the one who needs that coin. But I think there are more people looking for it, not just her.”
“Hmm,” he said, frowning. “Why doesn’t she want you to do escapes?”
“The only-so-much-magic thing, and that I barely know how to use mine. It tends to show up during escapes, and she wants me to be careful. I thought I had it all under control, but then . . . the other day . . .”
“And today?”
“Yeah,” I said, “but only because she kept me from using it.”
“I still don’t get why she would do that.”
“Probably just because she told me not to, that it wasn’t safe. That I had to be careful. She doesn’t want any of the Praestigae to know about me.”
Dez shook his head. “Moira, she’s right. You can’t keep doing these ‘illusions’ if they’re dangerous.”
I straightened my spine. “I can and I will. I just have to learn how to control my magic better, be more careful for now. I’m not going to give up on my career. Not for anybody. This summer is my chance to be a magician . . . So will you still be my assistant?”
He considered it for a long moment, and I wasn’t at all confident that he’d agree.
“On one condition,” he said. “That you find a trick where I never have to watch you almost break your neck again.”
Thank God he said yes. “I know just the thing. It’ll take a few days to put together, though.”
I didn’t elaborate. I kissed him instead.
I woke up feeling hot and sweaty and . . . wonderful. Dez was wrapped around me. That was the wonderful part. The less wonderful part was that the sliding door was still open, potentially revealing us to the view of any random passersby.
This was a pressing problem, because what had ripped me from sleep was a whole lot of sounds, and now that my eyes were open, they saw bright sunshine. Everyone would be awake and moving around out there. I heard guys calling to each other, and a couple of women laughing in a distance that was not that distant.
No one was staring in at us, at least. I attempted movement, and Dez held me tighter. “No,” he said. “I’m having the best dream.”
I turned over, still on my side, to face him. Somehow I managed this without tossing him off the tiny cot and onto the small length of floor. I wore one of his T-shirts, and he was without one. We’d fallen asleep before things had progressed too far, but we’d gone far enough.
“Oh,” he said, eyes opening, “it’s not a dream.”
“Good morning, flirt,” I said.
He kissed the tip of my nose. “It was a good night too.”
“I should get going,” I said.
“We have shows later,” he said. “Things to do.”
His face angled closer, and I blurted out in horror, “My breath is terrible, I’m guessing.”
He pressed a quick, soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “So’s mine, I’m guessing. See you later?”
“Safe bet.”
I knew I had a stupid grin plastered across my face. He knew I had magic, and he didn’t care. He hadn’t called me crazy or a freak. I breathed easier, having told him the truth.
I extracted my limbs from his as gracefully as I could—not very, as it turned out—and slid to the end of the bed, preparing to face the outside world. I pulled my jeans and sneakers on. But before I could quite make it the rest of the way into the daylight, his hand lightly grabbed the back of my shirt. I mean, his shirt.
“Moira? I’m glad you told me. But you probably shouldn’t tell anyone else.”
“No kidding. Agreed.”
He let me go. I completed my exit, feet hitting the ground.
Annnnd so, of course, the first person I saw was Brandon, grinning at me. How could Dez’s grins be so charming and Brandon’s so mocking?
“Morning,” I said.
“Guess you found him. Walk of shame!” he hooted.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of,” I countered, waltzing past him.
“Hope you didn’t forget your panties,” he called out.
I stopped, glaring at him, and my palms heated. I could feel anger roiling on the horizon, like kindling waiting for me to add flame. Now that I could call my magic and have it respond, it seemed I’d have to be careful not to use it accidentally.
Dez emerged from the trailer. “Do you want me to punch him for that?”
I breathed deep, willing the magic away, and put on a weak smile, relieved that it had worked. “You might hurt your hand.”
“I’m only not because you said so.”
What I’d meant about the lack of shame was true. So what if we hadn’t really spent the night together in that way? I wouldn’t have felt any different if we had. That was antiquated nonsense, making girls feel cheap for having sex, when everyone pretended like it was perfectly fine and the most natural thing in the world for boys.
My mother was right about one thing, though. I would have to be careful with my magic in a world with this many things to be angry about.
twenty-six
Raleigh’s backstage area was empty when I arrived the next night.
I had used my Thurston-mandated days off to order the extra supplies for the new illusion I’d mentioned to Dez. Now I intended to poke for a little more detail on Dad’s fascination with magic objects. I needed to have a talk with him, but I wanted more context first.
I could hear Raleigh onstage. He was at Marie Laveau number three, the granddaughter, in his patter. I sat down in the assistant’s chair to wait for him. His spare hat was propped over the corner of the mirror, and there were a few small pots of men’s makeup along the top, to prevent shine and accentuate the eyes. His assistant’s robe was balled up on top of it.
The crowd erupted into applause, and Marie came back through the curtain. “You,” she said, and shrugged. “Don’t mind me. He’s signing autographs.” She reached behind me and plucked up her robe, throwing it on. Then she left.
Raleigh would appear any second. I started to get nervous.
Here I’d thought Dad was as transparent as it got, father of the year aside from his not supporting my dream. Would I be happy to know more about the secrets he’d kept from me, or would I wish I was still in the dark?
Raleigh breezed in off the stage, humming under his breath. It must have been a good show. Caliban sat on his left forearm.
“Hey,” I said.
“Wasn’t expecting you tonight.” He reached up with his other hand to loosen the bow tie at his neck, and I frowned, recognizing its black-and-white stripes.
That was the bow tie he’d tossed back at Dita the night she was on distraction detail.
“Did Dita give that to you as a present after?” I hadn’t realized they were that friendly.
Raleigh paused midstep. “Moira,” he said. And then, “It’s not what you think.”
“I’m just curious where you got it,” I said.
But his reaction made me pause. What did he think I w
as asking him?
Hold up a second, I thought. Was it possible that Raleigh had been the culprit behind the note? “Did it come out of her drawer backstage?”
Why would he be wearing it if so, though? This whole situation had become unexpectedly bizarre. I waited for his perfectly logical alternate explanation. There had to be one.
Raleigh gestured with his hand so that Caliban jumped over onto the dressing table. He took off his top hat. “Don’t blow this up. I’m . . . mostly . . . working on this for your dad.”
“Working on what?”
“You know how he is. He wants that magic coin. I was the one who told him about it—that was why I came out to Vegas. I owed it to him to tip him off.”
This was not the explanation I’d hoped for. “Raleigh, I never knew Dad had a collection of magic stuff. Not of stuff he thought was real magic. Not until you mentioned it.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah.” I watched his face so I could catch any glimmer of a reaction. “Do you know about the Praestigae too?”
“The what?” Raleigh frowned. “Sounds like some of the gibberish he’s sent me looking for, but I don’t know that one.” He didn’t look like he’d ever heard the word before. No hint of familiarity. “Look, your dad probably didn’t want you to know he believes in this mystical junk. I don’t. I just pick it up for him when he asks. He pays me well for it.”
“I really wish you hadn’t been the one to leave that note.” I had to tell. There was no guarantee Dad would hand over the coin to my mom. I couldn’t risk him hiding it away.
Nan Maroni would take care of this, though, if I tipped her off. “Raleigh, I’m truly sorry . . . I promised Nan Maroni I’d tell her if anyone was after the coin. She got me a job here.”
“Craagh,” the crow said.
“Fine.” Raleigh shrugged, still seeming unconcerned by my finding out he was involved in this. “But I can only talk if Thurston’s there. And I have to feed this beast first.”
Requesting that the boss attend his confession was a surprise, but not one I could deny without seeming suspicious myself.
“So I’ll meet you at Thurston’s trailer after the show then, with Nan,” I said, hoping she’d agree to come. “I’ll get his assistant a note saying that we need to see him.”