Mortlock

Mortlock ~ 2 ~

After a fresh round of applause, their act moved on. Josie watched as Cardamom amazed the audience by producing almost anything they called out, from his pockets: pork pies, mousetraps, fruit, coins, doves . . . Even a ferret appeared in his hands.

He dragged a bunch of carnations from inside his coat, winked at Josie and threw them to her. Now and then he would release a balloon, and Josie would flick a knife to burst it.

Josie kept her smile fixed but wondered how Cardamom conjured up all these things. Backstag, she'd often secretly checked his pockets and found them to be nothing but ordinary and empty. Her guardian didn't let her in on his secrets. 'Thats magic,' he'd say mysteriously. Josie knew it was nothing more then a sleight of hand, but that still didn't explain how he knew what the audience was going to ask for for.

A levitation act followed the conjuring, then filling a jug from a bottle that seemed to never run dry, rabbits from hats - it was all standard material.Cardamom and Josie often went to see professor Anderson, the so called 'Wizard of the north', perform similar feats.

But Cardamom's performance was seamless. As he wove his real magic, Josie would tumble, cartwheel, flip and roll between tricks or when she brought props on. The collective gasp from the audience when she ran across the stage, then bounced and somersaulted to Cardamom's side, made her grin. She enjoyed herself almost as much as the audience.

Tonight, the clapping and cheers spilled into the wings as Josie and Cardamom squeezed past the dancers who were next on.

'But why Artemis?' Josie asked, pressing herself against the wall and blowing the an ing girls plumes from her face as they filled by. 'Its such a dull name.'

Cardamom stopped and turned, thrusting his face into Josie's. ' your talents come from ancient gods,' he hissed, suddenly somber. The flush of excitement had faded from his cheeks. Then he gave a ink. 'And we wouldn't like to upset them , would we?'

Josie watched her guardian push past the stagehands and waiting actors, heading out of sight into the dark interior of the theatre.

She frowned. Those moods of his. Cardamom could shift from maudlin to joking in the blink of an eye. Onstage he looked demonic with his pointed red beard and arched eyebrows. And yet, in the rare moments he could reveal the gentlest of souls. She hurried after him

Josie caught up with Cardamom in a storeroom, where they could talk with no fear of their voices disturbing the action onstage. It was the place they always went to when they needed to talk.

'If it makes you happy uncle,' Josie sighed, I'll keep the name Artemis.'

Cardamom have a faint smile. He shrugged his shoulders. 'The audience is going to love you whatever stage name we choose. As you grow up, the act gets . . . Easier.'

Cardamom suddenly looked much older. With a pang of sadness, Josie noticed that his dyed hair drew attention to his advancing years.