Scorched | Bewitchment #2

Chapter Three (Part 2 of 2)

Before Kali could reply, Queenie bustled in, jewelry clinking, skirts billowing around her. The too-sweet scent of her rosy perfume mingled with Osiris's salty ocean scent for an overpowering combination that left Kali longing for fresh air.

"You did absolutely nothing wrong, darling," Queenie said. "We've all had our own little hiccups from time to time."

"This was more than a hiccup, Queenie," Kali said.

"Well, don't fret about it for another second. And don't pay any attention to Lark's accusations." Queenie pitched her voice lower. "You know she runs her mouth off. She doesn't mean a word of it really."

As she talked, Queenie's fingers plucked at the air as if she played an invisible harp, conjuring a pair of gloves on Kali's hands. They were too pretty for Kali's comfort – black silk, studded with delicate diamonds and chunky rubies at the wrist, making it look like a cuff of fire.

Definitely more Queenie's taste than Kali's.

But they covered her blisters. Concealed the evidence of her mistake. At least the gloves were only an illusion. In a few hours, they would wear off, just like everything else Queenie conjured in Pandemonium. An illusion was merely a trick of the light and the dark, woven together. Eventually, when light faded or shifted, the illusion frayed and fell apart.

Kali flexed her hands, studying the gloves. It felt wrong, wearing the false finery of someone else's magic in order to hide the ugly reality of the burns that would scar her palms.

Lark growled under her breath, muttering, "No one listens to me."

With a buzz of wings, she took off. Her white hair streamed out behind her as she disappeared among the stars and the tents.

Then the shadows began to whisper, signaling Boss was on his way. A minute later, he emerged, with a bounce in his step as he rubbed his hands together, clearly in a good mood.

"What are you all standing around for?" he said. "I don't pay you to nap like lazy cats. We've got a show to run!"

Osiris retrieved his crutches from their resting place against Kali's wagon.

"Actually, I believe you don't pay us at all," he replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Boss held up his hands in a gesture of surrender with a laugh.

"Come on, we've talked about this! Who needs wages with three square meals, a warm, safe place to rest your head, and a circus to call home? Every night is filled with magic. Do you have any idea how many people would kill to be in your shoes?"

Without waiting for a reply, he clapped his hands in quick succession, changing the topic of conversation.

"Now, let's move. We have an excellent audience so I need you to perform your hearts out tonight. Get into that Big Top and show them what you can do."

Kali plucked at the magic gloves Queenie had conjured for her.

"I think I should sit this one out," she said.

Wren made a small noise of concern.

Boss's smile faltered. Only for a moment. Then it flashed back to full power again. He wrapped an arm around Kali's shoulder. She recoiled at the smell of cigar smoke, clinging to his jacket. Even though it was sweeter and lighter than the smoke of her fire, it was still smoke and the scent of it made the memory of flames rage into the forefront of her mind all over again.

"Don't tell me you're upset about the opening act," Boss said. "It was brilliant."

Kali pulled away. "People could have been hurt. They could have died."