I edged along, keeping my head up, my back almost rigid in my attempt to stop myself from leaning forward. Posture was everything. I bent my knees slightly and focused my eyes on where I wanted to go, forward. I took a tentative step. I was only fifteen feet off the ground, but a misstep would cost me.
My feet gripped the wire, assuring a strong footing, but loose enough to take small steps. The steel cord was cold through the worn soles of my shoes. They were practically slippers, past due for the bin. I had saved them. It beat being barefoot, especially in this weather. The soles were made of soft suede with a high arch that allowed for bending. The perfect fit for an air walk.
I loved that term—air walk. It was the most accurate description. I wasn’t afraid when I was on the wire. It was exhilarating, like walking on air.
I could hear cheers or jeers from the guys below me. I ignored them. Nothing could pierce the air around me. Up here, I was in my element. I had been playing on the wire since I was six. A lot of the air walkers had grown fond of me and taught me some basics on the lower ropes. They probably didn’t expect it to take.
My measured breaths created puffs of white in time with my thumping heart. A metallic taste settled on my tongue, the taste of ice. It only enhanced my focus on my steps. I had forgone the balance bar. I knew that to get anywhere in this circus, you had to be more than good. You had to be excellent. You had to wow the crowds.
More yells down below, and someone shouted a mocking “Don’t fall off!” I made sure my footing was secure before giving a quick glance to the blurred faces of my idiotic bunkmates. I laughed and blew them a kiss. One whistled in response, most likely Sean, the self-proclaimed ladies’ man.
A few moments later, almost without realizing it, I made it to the other side. I bowed and leaned forward, grabbing my knees, something that, if not practiced, could throw your balance off. Straightening, I leaped onto the platform, even as claps and grunts of appreciation sounded down below.
I climbed down the pole quickly, my fingers numb and pink. Teddy held up a thick blanket he had warmed by the fire for me. Though scratchy and smelling like stale sweat, at least it was warm. I wrapped myself in it and joined them by the burning barrel.
Lenny passed me a cup of hot chocolate, which tasted creamy and warmed my cold hands. My fingers tingled as the blood rushed back into them. I huddled next to the fire, and warmth slowly returned to my limbs.
“You’re a natural, Snow.” Teddy smiled, adding more logs to the fire.
“You’re okay,” grunted Sean. “Don’t give her so much praise, Ted. She’ll go soft.”
I nudged him. “Soft? With you lot?” I gestured to all of them drinking and smoking around the fire.
“Watch the suit!” he grumbled, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in his white t-shirt.
“Seen better,” Moe added, smoke billowing around him.
“Bah!” The guys waved him off.
“I happen to think you were exceptional.”
I stiffened. I recognized that voice. A chill ran up my back.
“Who are you then?” Lenny scoffed, weaving his fingers into the straps of his suspenders.
I turned to find Cynfael smiling at me, his white teeth catching the failing light. I wilted under his gaze.
“He looks like a rich blood,” someone—I think Ben—said. “Maybe we should bleed him. Take some of his spare change.”
“Now gents, be reasonable.” Cynfael grinned with complete ease. “I am simply an observer. I was walking by and happened to notice your girl on the wire. She made it look like she was taking a simple stroll. Impressive!”
I blushed but knew better than to take his praise to heart. Most of the girls Madame had in her employ could walk, flip, and run circles around me on the rope.
But Cynfael looked up at the wire and shook his head. “She did something I have never seen any of those other hacks do.”
Moe got up, his fat cigar wedged in his teeth where he worked at it like a dog with a bone. “And what’s that?”
Cynfael’s shining eyes flicked over me before landing on Moe. “She laughed.”
The boys all inched closer to him, dissecting him with their eyes. Trying to decide if he was a threat, a patsy, or just plain stupid. In their minds, they had already spent the money from his pockets.
“Move along, Richie,” Ben snapped at last. “We don’t want your type here. Your blood is too blue.”
Any normal person, especially one born into the softer side of life, probably would have tucked tail and run. Cynfael seemed to welcome the threats. “All right, gents, sorry to get your ire up. I simply wanted to give the girl a compliment.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“And you have. Now leave or you’ll find yourself a few pounds lighter,” Moe growled. The boys cackled at that, hoping Cynfael would keep testing their hospitality. Nothing they loved more than parting a rich man from his coin.
Cynfael glanced at them each in turn, his expression equally hostile. “I am one of Madame’s personal guests. I’m sure upstanding gentlemen such as you wouldn’t be stupid enough to take action against her.”
“What kind of man has to hide behind a lady’s skirt?” Moe retorted, inspiring a fresh wave of jeers and laughter.
“A clever and rather tall man,” Cynfael shot back with cold amusement.
He hit a nerve with that. The boys’ loyalty to their boss wasn’t so strong that they wouldn’t rough him up a bit if prodded. And I was more than willing to let them. Small as they were, bar brawls were some of the boys’ favorite activities. Most of them were riddled with scars from dodging blades. This well-dressed miscreant looked as if he spent his days dodging the poor’s outstretched hands.
Cynfael held up a pacifying hand. “A gift for the lady,” he said and pulled a glaringly red apple from his pocket.
“Fruit? What kind of gift is that?” Lenny sneered, his hand fingering an ugly knife. “A cigar or some gold would be much more appreciated.”
Hoots of agreement followed that comment. “Not like a few coins would break you, Richie,” Ben added.
“Cough it up,” Sean chimed in.
“So short-sighted, my friends. The key to a woman’s heart is never money.” Cynfael’s eyes held mine.
I raised an eyebrow.
“It’s the key to mine,” Lenny muttered, stroking his knife.
Cynfael held the apple out to me. Something devilish in his eyes dared me to accept it. I took it tentatively. “What is it then?” I challenged. “What is the key?”
He smiled. “Sweet gestures and perseverance of course.”
I gave him a look, rubbing the apple’s waxy skin with my thumb. “So you think you can win a woman’s heart with trifles?”
“Trifles are only part of it, I assure you.” His smile was a wicked thing. It probably let him get away with plenty.
It wouldn’t help him where I was concerned.
“All right, you’ve given your gift. Now I suggest you head back before something unfortunate happens to you.” I gestured to the small gang around me. They all sported wicked grins of their own.
“Ah, that would be unfortunate.” Cynfael nodded at them all as he turned to leave. His movements were curt and clean.
I could feel Teddy bristling beside me. He looked ready to throw a punch, and he was the one I could usually count on to refrain from violence.
“See you around, Snow.” Cynfael walked off, his head held high, his breath trailing in white clouds around him.
“Not likely,” Teddy hissed. He glared my way as I rubbed the apple off on the blanket. “I wouldn’t eat that if I were you.”
“It’s just an apple, Ted.”
He shrugged and went back to the fire.
I turned the apple round in my hand. It didn’t look like anything was wrong with it. The shiny skin was tempting and bright—much like the man who’d given it to me. Ted was right. I shouldn’t be quick to trust.
I threw the fruit into the fire.
Its skin shriveled in the heat. There was a wet hiss and a popping sound as its juices met the flames.
I watched Cynfael walk away, vanishing into the shadows.
Chapter Six
Snow
The wings were packed and bustling with activity. Different acts filed in and out, fighting for available mirror and wardrobe space. The animal tamers and contortionists displayed the boldest looks, dark-lined eyes complemented by striking hues. Oversized feathers and scratchy tulles brushed against me as I slipped past. A clash of colors assaulted my eyes from the many costumes, bright reds, gold, and turquoise. The smoky, putrid air from last-minute drags was almost overwhelmed by the heavy scent of greasepaint. Through the buzz of multiple voices, I caught only snatches of conversations. The chaos was expected. The evening shows had the most acts.
I slipped into a vacated chair. Picking up a canister of white greasepaint, I prepared to slather it on my face. It was cold and slick on my fingers, a familiar sensation. I wore it like a second skin.
“Snow! There you are.”
I jumped a bit to see Mel appear in the mirror behind me. She was one of the more accomplished air walkers. Her blonde hair was tucked into a tight bun, not a hair out of place, but her face had a shine to it, and her makeup was bleeding, so I knew she must have just come from the stage. “Mel?”
“I need your help.” She was breathless.
I looked over to where Teddy and the others were preparing for our act. “I have to be on stage in a few minutes.”
“It’s important.” She gave a quick glance to the other performers. They were all engrossed in their own preparations. She lowered her voice but seemed annoyed. “One of my walkers decided to hit the bottle early, and she can’t perform.”
I put down the canister. “That’s awful.”
She nodded, seeming distracted. “It’s a big inconvenience for me.” She looked at me, our eyes meeting in the mirror reflection. “I need you to replace her.”
It took a minute for her words to hit me. My breath caught. “I can’t, Mel.” I hastily broke her pleading gaze, looking anywhere but at her. “We both know I’m not ready.”
“I need you, Snow,” Mel said, tightening her grip on a white bundle clutched in her hand. “You know I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
“I . . .” My nervously shifting gaze met Teddy’s as he watched us. He gave me a quizzical look.
Mel followed my line of sight. “They can get along without you. Please!” I had never seen her look so frantic.
I nodded, trying not to think about what accepting could mean. “I’ll do it.” My voice failed to match the certainty of my words.
Mel didn’t seem to notice. She gave me a tight smile, lifting the shimmering fabric she had been clutching. It was a stunning leotard inlaid with shifting patterns of white and glittering diamonds. Transparent material cut into the pattern in all the right places, dotted with smaller jewels. She passed it to me along with a set of white aerial shoes.
I took it with reverence and trepidation. I felt undeserving of such a delicate thing. Suddenly aware of how dirty my hands were, I held it with my fingertips, not wanting to smear any paint on it.
“I hope it fits,” Mel said, her voice still tight with tension.
I held my future in my hands, and I didn’t feel ready to bear its weight. I was terrified of what it could mean. I hadn’t expected to get a chance this soon. I wasn’t prepared.
“You’re on in an hour.” Mel said, with one last look at the departing performers. She left without waiting for a response from me. Mel had always been terse, but she seemed on edge tonight. Maybe she was worried I would mess up. That would be bad for both of us. It would cost me my shot and her reputation. She was staking a lot on me, and I felt both honored and irritated. And more than a little frightened.
Teddy strode up, a ridiculous, giant bowtie obscuring his neck. The guys flocked around him, giving me suspicious looks. “Is Mel getting you to perform?” Teddy asked, tugging on the bottom of one of the silky leotard’s transparent sleeves.
“Yes,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I stroked the beautiful garment in disbelief
Teddy smiled. “Good.”
Surprised, I shot him an answering smile.
“Well, that’s ruddy fantastic for the rest of us, isn’t it?” Lenny growled, making trails of smoke with his cigarette. Loud agreements and grumbling followed from the rest of them, accompanied with some rude gestures as they made their way out to the ring. Teddy winked as he followed them out.
I took a deep breath, forcing my conflicting emotions back. I had to stay focused. I couldn’t afford to fall this time.
Chapter Seven
Chayse
I mopped the sheen of sweat off my face with a rag. It was oil-stained and had a faint odor. I had let the flames get a bit bigger than usual, much to the delight of the crowd. But the fire had been harder to control and almost got away from me. I’d been distracted, my unnerving conversation with Cynfael at the forefront of my mind. I wasn’t supposed to let my emotions take over when I was performing. Accidents were bound to happen.
Leaving the wings, I kept to the edges of the big top. It was packed, but some people were leaving. During a brief intermission, vendors weaved through the crowd with fairy floss and popcorn. The buttery scent wafted through the room. The dwarves had come out and were entertaining the crowd.
I frowned as I watched. Snow wasn’t with them, which was unusual. I tried not to think about it. She was fine. She still had time.
We both had time.
I scanned the audience. Mother had told me to meet her after my act, which meant she needed me to swap pleasantries with Alilion and Cynfael. I had put it off as long as I could, but it was inevitable. If I tried to delay, Mother would only make me pay later. I spotted them in the front row.
Mother wore a white minx fur, which separated her from even the rich ticketholders in the crowd. Her diamond earrings glittered in the spotlights. She was on full display tonight in a sparkling gold dress and coiffed curls. Her smile flashed as she listened to whatever drivel Alilion had to say. Self-satisfaction oozed from her every pore. She leaned into him, a calculated move, and coyly whispered in his ear.
Alilion seemed to appreciate her attention a little too much. I swallowed down my revulsion and approached them. Mother caught sight of me and gave me a syrupy smile, her teeth too white and straight. It always unnerved me. She beckoned me into the seat next to her. “Darling, you were brilliant!” I clenched my teeth at the bubbling lilt to her voice and nodded. “Didn’t you think he was brilliant?” she gushed to Alilion.
His too-bright eyes told me he had already been drinking. “Yes, the flames and such were quite amusing!” he said with a vague flutter of fingers. His tone was belittling, but I knew better than to respond.
Instead, I sat and watched the dwarves work a routine. It was missing Snow’s little contributions that would have made it more entertaining.
Glancing Alilion’s way, I saw that his smile was really more of a grimace of distaste. The dirt and grit of circus life was too harsh for his delicate palate. Mother could tell that he was not as impressed as she wanted him to be, no doubt inspiring her efforts to be particularly charming. Why she needed to impress this pompous idiot, I couldn’t imagine. Or didn’t want to.
Cynfael entered our row. His presence dampened my already sour mood considerably.
“My apologies, Madame.” He flashed Mother a smile before sliding in next to me. The thick scent of smoke came with him. I didn’t make eye contact, didn’t want to see his taunting expression. He took his time settling into his chair and smoothed out the creases in his jacket. His eyes roved over the room.
He was distracted. Which was a cause for concern in itself.
The spotlights dimmed, and the Ringmaster strutted onto the stage to announce the next act. One light snapped back on and focused on him, and his gold buttons and glaring red jacket made him impossible to miss.
Cynfael turned to face me with an ingratiating grin. “Try not to kill me before dinner.” His words were hushed, I barely made them out.
My mouth began to form a sharp question, but the Ringmaster’s blaring voice in the echoing microphone swallowed mine: “May I present to you, the Mesmerizing Snow!”
His word’s echoed and buzzed in my head. Static crackled.
The air was sucked from me.
Mother turned to me, her body tense. “Chayse, what’s going on?” Her words were a hiss between clenched teeth.
I turned from her, glaring at Cynfael, trying to disguise my horror. What had he done?
Chapter Eight
Snow
Myriad emotions seared through me.
I stood before a full-length mirror. The round bulbs lit up the small gems on my costume, creating a spinning kaleidoscope of colors around me. The iridescent white was so beautiful, the silk material soft against my skin. A perfect fit too.
I had washed myself thoroughly. Mel, who was an accomplished air walker, fixed my hair. She scattered shining sequins in among my dark waves to match the costume and twisted it into a tight bun. Then she coated my skin in a thick foundation and paired it with a metallic, almost black lipstick. The makeup had to be bold. She lined my eyes, spread a silver shadow on my lids, and glued glitter and sequins on top.
I sparkled. Nothing remained of the homey circus clown. I was . . . mesmerizing.
This is everything I wanted, I told myself.
Nerves gnawed at my stomach. I had never used the main wire. It was at least fifty feet high, and I struggled at twenty. Usually when a girl was debuting, she would have practiced for months. I had no official training.
I turned back to the mirror and saw an imposter. The rising murmurs of the crowd beckoned. I secured the lace ties around my ankles and dusted my hands. The dry taste and scent of the chalk calmed me.
The next instant, Mel came in to hurry me out of the wings. She dragged me through the shadows and dust, and I could not catch my breath for the frantic pounding of my heart. Rushing blood filled my ears. I almost tripped on one of the pulleys and let a breathless laugh slip. Mel shushed me and shuffled me along. I sucked in the stale, dusty air. I needed focus. The wire demanded everything of me, and I couldn’t afford to be distracted.
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