by R. Moses
Chapter Fifteen
She said, “Give me back my money.”
“Already long gone. I'm going places. Big places. I need coin to get there.”
She hissed, “You know why I am saving up. I trusted you, Icari, and Naomi with my past and with my hopes of freeing my mother.”
“You couldn't save enough to free her in a decade. Admit it. Someone else would have stolen the coin or you would have needed it for something, a healer or a fresh start outside the carnival. It was a crazy dream.”
“It's my dream! And my coin!” She forced a wild laugh. “Do you even have enough decency to fake an apology?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. His teeth were grinding together, his hands shaking. He was boiling over with energy. “I'm sorry.” He took a step closer to her, and she reminded herself how badly he could hurt her in this state. She stepped back.
“Aww, c'mon, don't be like that.” He took another step forward, hunger in his eyes. “Stick with me. When I've made it big, I'll buy your mom's freedom. I had honorable intentions all along.”
She stared at him, silent more from shock than any attempt to intimidate. She shook herself out of it and asked, “Stick with you?”
He looked over at his bed and gave her a coy little smile. “I'm just tired of Naomi. I need a smart, tough girl. Like you.”
“What you'll get is a stupid girl. Any female charmed by a carny rhone addict is even dumber than you.”
His jaw clenched and his neck tendons bulged as his eyes narrowed to slits. He took another step towards her, but she stood her ground even though she was within arm's reach.
She had seen this stance in other men, and she knew what it meant, what his intentions were. There was a feral cast to his gaze, the hunger morphing into a need for conquest. She lifted up her knife. “Stop. Right. There. I have perfect aim. And we are in very close quarters.”
He stopped. “It's me, Vayne. What did you think I was going to do?”
“Doesn't matter what I thought. You aren't going to do it because I am not going to let you.”
He pouted, and some of the old Vayne crept through as he swept his black hair back. He said, “Let me tell you why I am using the rhone.”
She was wary of distractions, but could not deny her curiosity. She kept her knife up and said, “I'm listening. Any funny business and I am out of here. Well, except for my knife. It will be between your ribs.”
He chuckled and seemed normal again-except for his wild eyes. “Oh, Kara. You don't have to be so tough all the time.”
“Sure I do. Tell your little story. Try not to lie too much.”
“You know we are stopping near your father's estate to set up camp.”
She nodded
“After that, we are heading to the capital. We will be performing for the King himself. By invitation. One of his daughters is getting married, and there will be dignitaries, other Kings and Queens, even the eastern Emperor is rumored to be coming. And part of the entertainment for the event will be us.”
She nodded to indicate she understood.
He continued, “The King is crazy for carnivals and traveling folk in general. He keeps fools, a menagerie, dancers, and the most hideous freak show you've ever heard of. He is enthralled with any new act that can amaze.”
She shrugged. Big deal. Everyone knew the King had lavish tastes and a deep purse.
“I have it from a very reliable source that the King is looking to add on to his court entertainment. He is specifically looking for a strongman and a knife throwing act.”
“So you want to work at the King's court. By all means, wow him with your false strength and leave us. Strongmen are a dime a dozen.”
“That's exactly my problem! Even with my newly enhanced act, it's still not enough to amaze the King! Once word leaks out, he will have applicants from all over the kingdom and quite a few from across the sea. What would really impress him is a combination act. You can throw knives, right?”
She saw were this was going. “Yes.”
“What if you threw knives at me while I performed my strongman act? Think of it! Have you ever heard of such a thing? We could be famous, living in the palace, fed good food every single day. Our own rooms, no more hard road life. We could earn enough to free your mother in a year or less. The King can be most generous to those he favors.”
And remove the head of those he no longer favors, she thought sadly. Little as I know of court politics through my father's ranting, Vayne knows even less.
Aloud, she said, “It's not a bad idea. Teach Naomi to throw knives at you.” She added dryly, “I wouldn't trust myself to throw knives at you right now.”
He had crept closer as he was weaving his gorgeous tale. Now he was only a hand span away from her, his emerald eyes piercing hers. “I'd trust you to throw knives at me. You and I are alike, Kara. We do what it takes to get ahead. A little stealing and a little showmanship could get us far.”
Then his lips were crushing hers and he was wrapping his enormous arms around her, and she dropped the knife, her body responding with its own needs. It had been too long, she had waited too long to feel his lips on hers, she wanted him to look at her the way he looked at Naomi...
All this whirled through her head in a split second. Then her reasoning came back to her, and she tasted the burnt stench of the rhone on his lips, sensed the trembling in his arms. Disgusted, she pushed him away. She bent and snatched up her knife. “Leave me alone,” she breathed. “And do not steal from me again.”
She backed out of his tent, knowing she looked crazy with her knife still in hand. She turned and ran until she landed in her own tent, hoping Naomi had crawled off somewhere to sulk.
She had not. She was sitting on her blanket, head low, hands limp in her lap.
Kara sat across from her and took her three deep breaths, then said, “You know he is an addict.”
Naomi looked up with a crumbled face. “Yes. But I love him. He loves me! We're going to perform for the King! He said he'd teach me how to be a strongman's assistant. That we'd be famous and married next spring...” She gulped. “You understand, don't you? Don't you understand that I love him? That I need him?”
Kara looked at her friend. She was pitiful and gullible and weak.
Kara had never been any of these things. Slaves had to grow up much quicker than other children. She said, “You can do better than him. He's going to leave you sooner or later.”
“No, he's not! You're just jealous!”
I used to be, she thought. I used to burn with it, my insides clenched so tight they hurt every time I saw you two kissing or touching. Now I just feel sorry for you. Her lips still throbbed from the urgent press of his lips...
She decided it was just kinder to tell Naomi the truth now before he publicly humiliated her. Gathering her courage, she said, “When I confronted him, he tried to convince me to be a part of his act. And he kissed me.”
Naomi clapped her hands over her ears. In a singsong voice, she said, “You're lying, you're lying, you are a dirty, filthy liar!” She jumped up and ran out of the tent.
Kara felt as if she had just beat an orphaned puppy. Which, in a way, she had. Naomi had told her a little of her own past because there was nothing scandalous. She was not running from the King's Law or hiding from enemies. She was just an orphan with nowhere else to go.
Naomi's parents had died in the last war between the Lords and the King. Lord Ansa had burned down her village stronghold and Naomi had been hidden by her mother in a root cellar. She said the secret crevice was so narrow it was as if she had been buried alive while those above had died screaming and burning. Everyone she had known, all those she loved, had been burned to death or hacked down by the Lord's army.
And it seemed to Kara that Naomi had led an easy life before the war. Her father was a baker, their family modestly prosperous. Being a baker's daughter in a small village had not prepped her for the ways of the world. Cosseted and pampered, and then
cut off from all she knew with brute abruptness.
Now she had no family except the carnival. No love except Vayne's. And she was too stupid to see what he was becoming.
Kara felt so sorry for Naomi that she could not be mad at her anymore. Now she just was sad, alone in her empty tent. Had she just lost two friends?
I've still got Icari, she reminded herself. And Lyla. Things change.
She began to absentmindedly sort through her possessions, separating them from Naomi's things. She cleaned her leathers as the day grew hotter. She got up and opened her tent flap in the hopes of coaxing in a stray breeze.
Lyla was walking towards their tent, and Kara smiled as she ducked in. She said, “The man who loves elephants is kind.”
Kara smiled. “Yes. Justi is a nice guy.”
She suddenly remembered about Malone. She wanted Lyla to be a pickpocket, but Kara was getting the glimmer of a plan in her mind...
She said, “Lyla, since you have to earn your keep, you would like to do this by working with the animals, right?”
She inclined her head. “I would.”
“If we are going to convince Malone to let you work with the animals, you're going to have to trust me and do everything I say.”
Lyla looked at her with those ethereal purple eyes. “I trust you.”
“I trust you too. Now we are going to have to lie to Malone. We're going to play up your injuries.” She hesitated as she looked over Lyla's numerous bruises. They looked awful. “And we are going to pretend you are soft-headed. Too dumb to do anything but help with the animals.”
Lyla gave her the ghost of a smile. “Most already think me soft.”
Embarrassed, Kara said, “You are not. You are fae.” She whispered that last word, then continued on in a normal voice. “Your ways are just different.”
She stood up, feeling energized with purpose. “First let's dirty you up. Your hair is already horrible, so we're good there.”
She chuckled as Kara went outside and scooped up some dirt. She rubbed it all over Lyla's legs and neck. She took the most ragged tunic she had and tore it up a bit more, then added dust to that too. She pulled it over Lyla's head and realized she was having fun playing in the dirt.
She stepped back, amused at her own childlike tendencies, and her friend definitely looked even more pitiful than before. Dirty, disheveled, with a rainbow of bruises and a bone-thin figure, she seemed like the most abused waif in the kingdom. Kara wondered when she had decided Lyla was her friend. They barely knew each other...
Kara nodded. It was exactly the effect she had been looking for. One more touch was needed. She said, “Do that thing you do when you drift away with your eyes.”
“You mean thinking?”
Kara laughed. “Yes. That.” She took Lyla's arm. “Let's go convince Malone that you can hang out with the elephants every day in exchange for a few coins and bowls of stew.”
They marched up to Malone's wagon house. Kara checked the look of the rubbed in dirt under the sun, worried she had overdone it. It looked convincing to her, so they continued on.
As they drew closer to the wagon house they heard a curse. A roadie came hurrying out, his face drawn.
Her stomach dropped. It looked like she had not picked the best time to approach Malone.