Алекс Калер - The Immortal Circus (Cirque des Immortels)

The energy in my fingers turns to fire.

White light surrounds me, fills me, burns me with a thousand tiny suns. I see through half-closed eyes the vines disintegrating from my wrists and calves, see the shocked face of the naiad as he dissolves into nothing. Light fills me, blinds me, roars through me like the angry howl of a god. Bright, white, like a strobe illuminating the whole world, and then it’s gone.

I drop to my knees and shudder with newfound cold as the power leaves me. That’s when I realize that the mob of fey is gone. Only Lilith is still there, cowering in the alley between the trailers, arms wrapped around her head.

I stare at my hands. I swear I see faint traces of silver etched into the lines of my palm.

“What the fuck?” I whisper. Was this part of the contract as well?

I don’t have time to think. Another wave of Summer Fey bursts onto the scene, a new mix of dryads and will-o-wisps and creatures I have no name for. The bloodlust is gone. So is the tingling. I’m not about to test and find out if there’s enough power left over for round two. I reach down and grab Lilith by the shoulder, pull her up to standing, and duck into a trailer.

It’s not until I’ve slammed the door behind us that I realize where we’ve landed. Mab’s office.

It’s dark. The air has that cold, dry sensation of a cemetery on an autumn night. Lilith huddles at my side. I fully expect to hear the Summer Fey clanging against the aluminum door, but all is silent. Just the sound of me and Lilith breathing and the hammer of our hearts.

Then a light flares into being, and then another, cold blue candle flames that glimmer out of skull sconces. The office emerges from the dark like a beast surfacing from a midnight ocean — first the desk, then the chairs, then the bookshelves. And then another form appears in a wash of mist. We aren’t alone in Mab’s study.

Penelope.

She turns the moment she becomes visible, as though Lilith and I were the ones who just appeared from the gloom. In her hand is the book of contracts.

“Lilith,” she says. “I’d hoped Mab would send you here. Though I wasn’t expecting an escort.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my hands clenched at my sides. No tingling, this time, no power. And no chance of hurting her. She already saw to that.

“I could ask the same,” she says. “Though I’m pleased you’re here safe.”

“Auntie Mab won’t be happy,” Lilith says. She’s stroking Poe — I hadn’t even seen the cat get inside — with that distant tint to her voice. “She doesn’t like her book to be touched. No, no, not at all.”

Penelope shoots her a venomous glance.

“After this,” she says, “ Auntie Mab won’t have a book.” When she looks to me, her eyes soften. “Vivienne, don’t you see what I’m doing? I’m saving you.”

I take a half step forward.

“ Saving me? By bringing the Summer Fey here and getting us all killed?”

“I haven’t killed anyone,” she says. Her eyes go wild in that moment, as though I’m not the only one she’s trying to convince.

“You’re full of shit,” I say. “What about Sabina? And Roman? Hell, Melody’s probably dead now because of you!” The rage inside of me is growing, a white-hot anger I want to throw her way. But there’s still no power in my fingertips, no growing pulse of magic. Even if there was, I know there’d be no point. The very thought of harming Penelope is enough to make my chest constrict.

“I had no hand in their deaths,” she says. Her voice drops to a whisper. “My only task was to alter their contracts, to make them mortal again. I can only assume the Summer Court arranged for their execution. As for Melody, I have never touched her terms.”

“What about her illness, then? Why did she get so sick?”

She opens her mouth, but she doesn’t say anything. Not for a moment. “Melody’s fate is different from the other performers of this troupe,” she says. Her words are careful, as though every one is a chore. “She has always been mortal, and her fate has always been tied to the health of this show.”

“What did you do to her?”

“You already know,” she says. “I had her taken far, far away. The only things that can sever her bond to her duties are distance or death.” She pauses and looks at me. Her voice goes soft. “You may call me what you like, but I am no murderer. It was my choice to have Melody hidden away. Senchan would have had her killed. I saved her, so I could save all of us.”

“You’re insane,” I say. She’s completely lost it. She doesn’t seem to realize that outside the trailer, people are burning and bleeding — the very family of performers she’s deluding herself into thinking she’s saving.

“It was the only way,” she says. “It’s the only way we can be free. Our contracts will only be void when the circus is over. You and I, we should be working together. We’re the same.”

Then, before I can ask what she’s talking about, she places the book on the table. It’s open to my name.

“You see?” she says, and points to the very bottom line. “Section 72A: The duration of this contract is valid indefinitely, or until Vivienne is deemed to have served her purpose, whichever transpires first.” She looks at me with true sadness in her eyes. “Your contract has no end. I didn’t believe it at first, couldn’t imagine Mab would try the same trick on you as she had on me. But she did. You’re in this forever.”

Her words send my mind into a haze, a heaviness I can’t shake. I expect the memory to crash back upon seeing the evidence before me, but it doesn’t. No remembering signing my life away, no reason to have done such a thing. I glance at my hands. The light, the power, the visions…whatever it was, that was what I was running from. Whatever it was, it was bad enough to want it locked away for eternity.

“At first,” she says, her words barely above a whisper, “it sounds like an okay fate. But that’s now. That’s only after a few weeks. Imagine how it will feel when you watch a hundred years pass you by, a thousand. The world changes, empires crumble. Friends die. And you know that every day you will wake up and see the sun rise, and you will put on a show, and then you will go to sleep without even a dream to help you escape. Never aging, never dying. Oh, yes, it sounds okay now, but when you are as old as I, the torment is unbearable.”

I close my eyes and force myself to stay standing. What she’s saying is impossible to fathom, but the idea of it is trying to sink in. I keep seeing the print, this contract is valid indefinitely. I had wanted to run away, but had I really wanted to run away forever?

“There is only one way for this madness to end,” Penelope whispers. “If the show is over, our contracts are moot. If the Dream Trade stops, she has no more use for us. We will be free.”

I take a deep, staggering breath and open my eyes.

“What about her?” I ask, pointing to the girl.

“Lilith?”

I nod and look at her. If she’s paying us any attention, it doesn’t show. She’s nuzzling her cheek against Poe’s face.

“I needed a reason for the Summer Court to intervene. She was the perfect ploy. Once they have her, Mab’s reign is over for good.”

“But why?”

She just smiles. “I’m afraid I can’t say. Quite literally.” She taps the book in front of her, then closes it and begins to walk around the desk. “You should be thanking me,” she says. “I’ve done all I can to keep your friends safe from harm — even that witch of yours. When this is all over, you three will be free to come and go as you please.”

She walks by me, right within arm’s reach. I should grab her, should stop her. But her words have a weight. Sure, the circus is fun now; performing every day, seeing Kingston and Melody. An eternity of evenings under the stars and circus lights, endless nights of applause. But what happens a few years from now? Twenty? Fifty? What happens when Kingston and Melody’s contracts are up and I’m left here alone, day after day, without even Kingston’s magic to help me forget the years that edge by? Kingston’s image fills me with regret; I can’t even tell if he’s worth staying for. I’ve been living off lies the entire time I’ve been here. What Penelope’s saying sounds like the first bit of truth.