Five Poisoned Apples

by Skye Hoffert et al.

  Mel left me at the bottom of the post that led up to the platform. When I grasped the rungs, the cold steel cut into my fingers.

  I climbed quickly. Going up was the easy part. The spotlights were directed to the center, and the heavy darkness on the edges hid me from view. I scurried to the top. It was higher than any of the wires I had previously walked. Daunted, my stomach flipped.

  I was almost there.

  Gripping the edge of the platform, I squeezed myself up and onto it. It was small but adequate. I stood up slowly, stretching and testing my limbs. I breathed, taking deep cleansing breaths. A film of chalk clung to my tongue. The air was stuffy, stifling. I looked down and could see only the parts of the crowd illuminated by the lights. They all looked like miniatures, their features a bit blurry.

  But I spied Madame. She was in the front row, her white fur and glinting jewelry unmistakable. I had the strange sensation that she was looking at me. It was an irrational fear; there was no way she would be able to see me hidden in the shadows. She turned to the man sitting next to her. I didn’t like the look of him, oily and shrewd. He wore a suit, which meant he was her guest.

  I found myself glancing at areas around the stage. But I didn’t see Chayse anywhere.

  The Ringmaster stalked onto the stage, signaling the end of whatever act was on. I pushed my emotions and nerves down and straightened, lifting my chin. Almost unconsciously, I stepped into the guise of a performer. It was easier even than donning a costume.

  “May I present to you,” the Ringmaster cried, “the Mesmerizing Snow!”

  The spotlight spun to me, struck me blindingly in the face. I smiled even though I couldn’t see and waved. Cheers rose up below, rumbling like thunder in my ears. Suddenly, pure joy seized me in its grip. I had made it. This was my moment. I had bruised and bled for this.

  The Ringmaster continued: “She is not only going to cross the wire, but will also perform an acrobatic feat that has yet to be attempted!”

  His words sucked the air right out of me. They never made first-time air walkers do anything more than walk the wire! The height alone was going to prove a challenge for me. I wasn’t ready to perform any tricks.

  I kept my smile in place. Mel hadn’t said anything. I felt betrayed.

  I looked down once the light had moved, feeling a sharp stare pierce my skin. Madame’s cold gaze was locked on me. I could feel her seething rage, though I couldn’t understand it. I had never met her, so what reason did she have to be so incensed? She must not have known that an inexperienced understudy was taking this spotlight. As mistress of the circus, she should have had final approval.

  I would have to prove to her that I was worth this chance. This was my test.

  A tuft of blonde hair caught my attention. Chayse was there, looking up at me in unchecked horror. I knew he would be surprised, but the terror on his face was cutting. He didn’t think I could do it. He shook his head at me.

  I faltered. What did he expect me to do? He knew I couldn’t back down. I might never get the chance again.

  I swallowed his dread and my own. I had to go through with this.

  Something gold flashed beside Chayse. Cynfael looked up at me with a dangerous smile. He was the only one who seemed pleased to see me. There was something predatory about his face.

  I gritted my teeth at him. Then, with an effort of will, I ignored them. They were just part of the crowd. All that mattered was the wire.

  The crowd went quiet, waiting. Channeling their anticipation into adrenaline, I took my first cautious step. The wire was a bit thinner than I was used to, but the lack of wind helped. Having the light on me was new, its heat and brilliance unfamiliar. Sweat formed across my brow, but I kept my smile in place and quickened my steps.

  Someone whistled. I barely heard it, concentrating on my feet. The audience was not my friend—all they wanted was a show, and they’d be just as entertained if I fell.

  Beads of sweat slipped down my temples, my neck. I ignored them and dipped my foot out in a calculated slip. The audience gasped in response. I let a bit of panic show on my face but kept my right leg strong and balanced. I took my time to recover and began walking away. The silence was palpable.

  A few more steps and I reached the middle. The tension reached its peak. The two platforms were too far away to reach if something went wrong. I looked ahead at the far platform and tried not to think about any of it: the ground, my sweaty palms, the fact that I had never been able to land this trick.

  I blocked it all out. It was just me and my breaths. Counting slowly to three, I checked my footing, then vaulted myself into a cartwheel. The wire was the only thing solid; everything else was a spinning mess of colors. I held myself steady in a handstand position. Breathing carefully, I kept my grip strong, fighting back the whirling sensation of vertigo. The cord bit into my hand, but I held on, my eyes focused on my pink, calloused hands.

  Slowly I eased myself back onto the wire. It was a strange movement of letting go and spinning.

  A muffled scream shot through my senses from below when I released one of my hands from the wire and swung my body down. For a moment I was almost falling, my foot just brushing against the wire. My breath escaped as I pushed my weight down.

  My feet steadied on the wire. I pulled myself back into the proper stance.

  A cacophony of applause and cheers resounded as I spread my arms out, more to balance myself than for dramatic flair. I tried to catch my breath as tears formed unbidden and caught in my eyelashes. The rest of the walk seemed almost too easy. I had to steel myself, ignoring the euphoria flowing through me. I longed to return to the shadows, away from all those staring eyes.

  I reached the platform, gave a quick bow, and blew a saucy kiss, allowing myself a momentary perusal of the packed stands, the spectators standing and shouting their enthusiasm. Some were even throwing flowers. My skin flushed, my heart racing, I retreated onto the solid wood, every limb shaking in relief. Laughter bubbled up and escaped through my lips before I could catch it.

  The test was over. I had passed.

  Chapter Nine

  Chayse

  She was stunning as she strode onto the wire. The lights reflected off the gems on her suit, bathing her in an iridescent glow. The makeup was flashy and altered her features, more than I would have liked. The soft edges of her face were more defined and sharp. She was alluring regardless.

  I didn’t seem to be the only one who thought so. Both Alilion and Cynfael seemed entranced by her. Their hungry looks made my nails dig into my palms. And I wasn’t the only one to notice them.

  Mother’s anger was building. She shot me accusing glances. She saw Alilion admiring Snow, and raw fury swept across her features.

  Snow smiled down at the crowd, unaware of how treacherous her situation had become.

  Any words I had for him, shriveled on my tongue, replaced with a feral rage. He had just provided Mother with a reason to remove Snow sooner than planned. Yet he sat in complete ease, with a wolfish grin fixed in place. As if he hadn’t just moved up the date of her certain death.

  Mother’s hand caught my arm; her nails pressed down, threatening to pierce my skin. “Who did this?” For all her power and money, she was jealous of a penniless girl.

  Heat flooded through me, and I bit my tongue to contain it. The sharp metallic taste of blood gave me something to focus on. I could sell Cynfael out. He was sure to have a defense. Little logic applied when Mother felt slighted. She needed someone to pay.

  Cynfael cleared his throat and leaned forward with a congenial smile. “I did, Madame.”

  His admission was jarring. My jaw slackened.

  Mother stiffened, her features hard. “May I ask why?” A vein pulsing in her neck and her clenched fists, the only indication of her true feelings.

  “I saw her on the wire earlier. She was quite intriguing. It seemed a shame to waste such talent.” His eyes flicked to Snow, his tone cool and unfettered as ever. “So I arrange
d for her to perform. I thought you would be delighted to have another walker at your disposal.” He tapped his chin. “There are always so many accidents. She’s no one, so I thought she couldn’t be a liability for you.” He looked at Mother with a crafted naiveté. “Was I wrong?”

  Mother bristled, pulling her fur tighter. “It can’t have escaped your attention that she’s human.”

  “It hasn’t,” he replied, looking perturbed at the insinuation.

  Mother regarded him with a sharp look. “Then you know she’s precious to me.”

  His fingers skimmed the top of his pants as his face twisted. “On the contrary, I am so used to the multitude my father has in his employ that I seem to have forgotten they are a more precious commodity to some.” He bowed his head, a small act of supplication. “Forgive my ignorance.”

  I didn’t believe a word of it. Sincerity wasn’t something I could associate with Cynfael. But Mother seemed placated. His honeyed words had more sway with her.

  Her attention returned to Snow’s performance. She stood in the middle of the wire. With a deep breath she swung body forward, her hands gripping the wire. It was difficult to keep hold of; I had watched her fall many times from losing her grip. There was no margin for error this time.

  She pushed herself up into a handstand, legs locked together.

  The audience responded with loud gasps, an odd mix of horror and delight. Which is exactly what they came for. They wanted to be entertained.

  Her grip stayed in place as she flipped back onto the wire. Tension drained from me. She was far from safe, but she was alive. She looked at the audience and her mask faltered. I saw relief flash across her face.

  She finished her walk. Time seemed to speed up. Thunderous applause rang out, and Snow took her bow, her face flushed from the adulation. Mother clapped, but her expression was impassive and cold.

  When Snow waved, a slight tremor shook her hand. Her eyes sparkled as she disappeared into the shadows.

  Cynfael was especially exuberant, a knowing smirk fixed to his face. This was somehow part of the rebels’ plan.

  He nodded at me as he joined the crowd in their standing ovation.

  Mother watched Snow with a steely acceptance, the curve of her lip hostile.

  I needed to get Snow away from the circus. But it was a fool’s errand. As much as I wanted to believe that she could run, Mother’s reach was too far.

  There was nothing I could do to save her.

  I followed Cynfael from the shadows. He walked the shadow-drenched grounds with a confidence that irked me. This wasn’t his marble palace; he didn’t hold the power here.

  The flocks of people were diminishing. Cynfael veered away from them and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it and blew smoke at the sky before finally speaking.

  “I can feel your condemnation, Chayse. No use lurking about.”

  The time for formality and pleasantries had long passed. I stalked toward him, tasting the char of building anger on my tongue. “What did you gain from endangering her?”

  Cynfael cocked his head at my venomous words. “To my knowledge she was already in danger. Her life has been forfeit for years.”

  He spoke an undeniable truth, one I had been avoiding.

  Watching me closely from behind half-closed eyelids, Cynfael fiddled with his cufflinks. “My actions may have forced her hand, but it wasn’t your Mother I was trying to provoke.”

  I bit my tongue in an attempt to keep the fire back. This was about me. He had used Snow to get to me.

  He gave me a pitying look. “I need your assistance, much though it pains me to admit. The only way I could think to procure your help after you refused my initial offer was to create a more imminent threat to her. It’s clear that you have a weakness for the girl.” Amusement filled his icy visage.

  I already tasted blood. Fire ignited in my hand.

  Cynfael watched it flicker. “I didn’t think you would be so easy to rile. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.” He lifted a hand to slick it through his hair.

  I launched myself at him, grabbing his collar before he had a chance. “What is going to be easier?” I snarled. Reason left me, banished by the desire to fight, and I could feel the heat rising, pushing against my lips. I wanted to break him.

  Cynfael had the decency to look panicked. He tried to break my grip and failed, so instead he held his hands up in surrender. “I thought you knew!”

  Before the flames could overwhelm me, I fought for control. Loosening my grip, I let go of his shirt and pushed him away from me.

  Cynfael smoothed his shirt and tried to regain his composure. “I always thought your fire skills were little more than a good party trick. It seems I have horrible judgement.”

  I gave him a tight smile that was anything but courteous.

  “So, she really didn’t tell you.” His voice lost its cocky edge. “Your mother finally told me why I’m here.”

  I stared at him.

  “Well, that takes all the fun out then. I thought it was supposed to add some competition. First to the kill, you know.”

  “Who are you supposed to kill?” I knew the answer, but part of me hoped that maybe, somehow, I was wrong.

  He pulled at a strand on his sleeve. “One would presume that’s fairly obvious. But not just kill. She wants her heart. Though I was told I’m supposed to wait for her direct command to acquire it.” He met my gaze and looked almost sympathetic.

  I didn’t bother hiding my expression. I had known this was going to happen, I had been anticipating it. This was all Snow was ever meant for.

  He shook his head, letting a long breath out through his nostrils. “She was your mark. You should know better than to get . . . attached.”

  What could I say in my defense? I had been weak—which was maddeningly human of me. I hated her for making me like her, for getting to me. This was supposed to be simple, easy.

  “It’s all set then.” I steeled myself. There was no course that would allow her to live. The stakes were too high, and the game was rigged.

  Cynfael stroked his chin. “Once again, Chayse, you give up far too easily. What do I care for a simple pawn? Her only value lies in what she means to you and what she means to your dear Mother.”

  I sighed. “Your point, if you please.”

  A wicked smile formed. “I should think you’d have caught on by now, old chap.”

  At my perturbed expression, he rolled his eyes and pulled out another cig. He stuck it between his teeth and nodded at me.

  Reluctantly, with a flick of my finger I lit it.

  His eyes brightened, his lips twisting as he took a long drag. “I have a plot, to which you are rather essential.”

  “What do you need from me?” I asked.

  Cynfael grinned. “Do you play chess?”

  I squinted at him. He seemed to take that as conformation.

  “I suggest a Promotion. The bloody queen has had her day. It is time for pawns to rise.”

  Chapter Ten

  Snow

  The pink sugar dissolved as it touched my tongue. Its overwhelming sweetness was a welcome change from the salty, grease-coated food I had been eating. Teddy passed out bags of leftover popcorn. It was a simple affair, our little impromptu celebration. The boys had brought drinks to toast my success, but it was just an excuse for them to drink more. I had a few congratulatory sips to placate them.

  I hadn’t taken off the leotard yet. It might break the spell. But I had changed the suede slippers for my boots.

  The boys became restless as they drained the last of their store. Most of them had already drunk more then they needed. They tossed whatever debris they could find into the flickering fire and dragged their cigarettes to ash.

  “Maybe if Madame makes you an air walker, we can afford some cigars,” Sean quipped, grounding out the butt of his cigarette.

  “Like Snow would waste money buying a dolt like you cigars,” Ben shot back, irritable as always.

 
“I don’t see why not. I bought her the candy floss.” Sean punctuated his words by ripping a sizeable piece off my stick.

  That started a fight, all for the honor of my stolen candy. I let them go at each other. Here was better than the local bar; less collateral damage for them to create.

  “A dazzling performance.”

  My skin prickled at the sound of that posh purr of a voice. I glanced round as Cynfael emerged from the shadows and slid up beside me.

  I rubbed the melting sugar on my fingers. “Thanks.” My face warmed. I hated that his compliment had an effect on me.

  He eyed my outfit and, suddenly aware of how exposed I was, I wished I could disappear. “It seems I was right about more than just your talents.” His expression was playful, but I shuffled my feet, trying to put a little distance between us. Wiping at my sticky lips, I tried not to show how nervous he was making me. The candy floss now seemed too sweet.

  “I didn’t mean anything crass,” he persisted, sidling after me even as I shifted away from him. “I simply meant your beauty was being wasted as a clown.” His voice was apologetic, but his expression betrayed his insincerity.

  I lowered my cotton candy. “One would think you have something against clowns.”

  His smile was magnetic. “On the contrary, I find them fascinating.”

  The cracking of glass followed his words as one of my inebriated companions broke his bottle and flew at Lenny. Cynfael seemed dismayed at their violent display. He looked at me, waiting for my reaction. I shrugged and took another bite of my candy. A few cuts and bruises were to be expected on nights like this. For several long moments, Cynfael watched the brawl with me. The little men tussled in and around the firelight, cursing and yelling.