The Boy of Shadows and Sin

Chapter 18

Damian's growing feeling of unease was not helped by the familiarity of the woman's face, like he had seen her in a photo somewhere long ago. It was a sickening feeling of recognition you would rather not know—like when someone photoshops a photo of Justin Beiber with Hitler and you just know that it's two of the most despised people in history.

She started dancing in a wild and entrancing way, the light from the candle never flickering, even as she did flips and twists.

Ixion. The name tickled at the back of his head, as did Sisyphus. He should know these names, he did know them, but his mind was foggy, like the smoke from the candle was wrapping around his brain and making it hard to see anything.

Reluctantly he nudged Will to see if he had any clue, but the boy was simply staring straight ahead at the dancing woman. When Damian glanced down the line, his friends were all similarily entranced.

That wasn't good.

More movement caught his attention, and he looked up to see a group of seven women lighting candles of their own. Each one had a pitcher balanced on her head with water trickling down the sides. As the light increased, he could see that they were each balanced on a separate tightrope, though they all crossed at different heights.

Slowly they joined in on the dance, and music started playing. After a moment, a spotlight illuminated a lone satyr playing a flute. The tune was ancient and new somehow, and while Damian wasn't normally too responsive to music, he felt the melody winding around his brain, muddling his thoughts even further.

There was a caw overhead, and a crow swooped down. The light shone off of its feathers, glimmering sapphire and emerald and amethyst. Whenever it flew out of the candlelight it disappeared, dark as the shadows themselves.

Through the haze of his mind, he recalled a rhyme his mum had told him, back in Portland. She used to tell him every time they saw crows. "One for sorrow, two for joy. Three for a girl, four for a boy. Five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret that's never to be told." Or was that for magpies?

As time went on, and he found himself at Temple, somebody told him that there was more to the rhyme than just that. But for the life of him, he couldn't recall what they were.

Damian's attention was drawn back to the performance at hand as the tent flared with light. A chandelier overhead flared to life, candles glowing and reflecting off of mirrors all around.

A man stood in a pool of water beneath the overlapping tightropes. Small waves lapped against the sides with every movement of his. Once again he glanced at the others. The only visible change was a slight crease in Will's brow. Why is he frowning?

But a frown seemed trivial in comparison to the men and women who were leaping around and twirling and spinning. It was enchanting and grotesque and strange. He felt a smile spread across his face when a very alluring woman in a gauzy yellow dress tiptoed her way in front of him. She giggled and ran a hand down his face and chest before twirling off again. He stared after her and watched the events unfold.

The man in the pool of water attempted to dive under, but through the glass walls Damian could see the water part around him, leaving a dry patch of water in which he stood in a handstand, grinning like mad. It was a look of tortured insanity, but the expression flickered when his eyes landed on Will. Damian felt no love lost for the child of Apollo, but a slight concern grew within him.

And then from the ceiling, a flaming hoop with a man tied to it was lowered, and Ixion began to spin. Faster and faster he went, until he was nothing more than a ball of flame and shadow hovering in midair.