Broken People (Serial)

Twenty-Nine

"How are we doing?" Nicholas asked, meeting Rake and Spinner backstage.

A flock of dancers wearing feathers and not much else rushed past them on their way to the stage.

"It's holding so far," Rake said. "And if there's a shortage, we're prepared to power it from our supply line."

"And the Nightingale?"

"All secured in the sound booth," Spinner said. "Ten gymnasts are guarding her, and then the stilt men will take over. We'll gas the entire hall if anyone tries anything."

"Wonderful." Nicholas grimaced. They had debated until the last moment whether to have the Nightingale sing but, in the end, decided it was better to have her on board. If they were wrong, the circus would never be able to set foot in Bratislava, and probably the entire country, again. Luckily, it was a small country—plenty of other places to go.

Shaking his head to chase the bad thoughts away, he reached for his top hat and put it on. "Okay. Good luck, everyone!" He picked up his walking stick, which was propped against the wall.

"It's not luck. It's practice!" the people around him chorused.

"Right." Laughing, Nicholas headed for the stage.

At his signal, the lights in the hall dimmed until only one bright spotlight remained shining on the center of the stage. The murmurs in the audience quieted down, and silence filled the hall.

Show time.

The spotlight disappeared.

Someone protested in the darkness, but the grumble was covered by gasps of surprise when the light bulbs connected to the armrests of the seats lit up. A soft hum coming from the speakers accompanied the light show, which soon revealed a distinct pattern: a snake made of light swirled around the hall, climbed on the walls, briefly visited the three rows of balconies, then returned to the stage.

A drum roll broke the silence, and the main spotlight returned while all of the other lights faded into nothingness. Nicholas stood proudly, bathed by the light, and bowed his head in greeting. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" Nicholas's clear voice carried across the hall. "It's an honor for us to perform in such a wonderful venue. We invite you into our special world. It's strange, it's daring, it's mystifying. Prepare yourselves to be amazed. Welcome to The Nightingale Circus!"

Nicholas raised a hand and stepped back. All the lights came to life, revealing the ensemble spread around him and waiting to perform. He retreated backstage where he waited. Supervising the show inside the big circus arena was not his job, but here, at the theater, after all the work he had put into it, this was his show.

Given the audience's reaction, the German wheel and the contortionists were a big success—no surprise there. It helped the entire crew had received orders to make their masks look less frightening. Faced with a tamed public that wasn't going to jump in their seats or throw things on the stage, there was no need to scare them to keep them in check. And they also had the Nightingale to take care of that. Nicholas was anxious to see the reaction to her singing, but a little wary, too. If they liked it too much...

A hand rested on his arm, and when he glanced to his left, he found Anya standing by his side. The shades of silver, obsidian, and ice of her mask morphed, forming a smile as dazzling as her swan costume. She moved, and pieces of fabric twitched, switching their color from white to black and back again. Cielo had done a fine job.

"What are you doing here?" Nicholas asked in a low voice. He knew the schedule by heart, up to the last second, and her turn hadn't come yet.

"I'm nervous. I wanted to get a feel for the crowd." Anya stared out through the open exit.