Broken People (16 page)

Nicholas focused on the affected parts of
the infrastructure and extended his power towards them. He had
little experience working with whole buildings from such distance
and without physical contact, but he did his best to keep the
support beams from breaking. Other than saving one of the gymnasts
who had fallen off the pyramid once, he hadn’t practiced regularly
to get a better command of his “talent”, and had avoided using it
altogether when he could. He had a good reason for doing so. No one
could force telechargers to use something they had no control over,
and mastering took time—time they didn’t have.

His muscles cramped from the strain, and
cold sweat ran down Nicholas’s temples when stilt men emerged from
behind the curtains, accompanied by Spinner on one side and Rake on
the other. The stilt men’s legs elongated unbelievably high, and
they lifted the knife throwers to the ceiling. They stuck their
knives into the plaster, through to the oak beams, anchoring
themselves there. They held the ceiling together with the sheer
force of their arms. Those in the audience who noticed seemed to
think it was part of the show.

Nicholas tugged at the power waves to test
the resistance of the edifice and released part of his hold. It was
not as bad as it could have been, just a series of cracks that
Spinner and Rake had under control. Once they disassembled all of
the props and cleared the stage, the danger would be gone. For now,
it only needed to hold a little while longer. How long would it
take the public to leave the hall? Ten minutes? It was still risky,
but doable. He tipped his hat, signaling to close the show.

The circle descended with Riella and, as the
air cleared and the music stopped, the crew filled the stage. The
performers aligned near the edge and stared at the public. More
lights went on, this time aimed towards the seats. One spotlight
focused on the mayor’s box, revealing not one, but two men
standing.

Armstrong had jumped out of his seat while
Nicholas was struggling to prevent the catastrophe, and sported a
look of understanding when the two men locked gazes. So he knew.
What Nicholas had tried to avoid for years had finally happened,
but maybe they could come to an agreement—something worth
considering, for sure. Aurore also stared at him, though with a
less surprised look. She had probably known all along, or at least
suspected, as few things escaped her. Nicholas didn’t worry about
her since the Golden Lady had a few secrets of her own. Luckily,
Ternchiev was fascinated by the scantily clad dancers and didn’t
have a clue.

Unclenching his jaw, Nicholas managed to
force a smile. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us
tonight!” He raised his voice and stepped closer to the rail of the
balcony. “We hope you enjoyed the show and that this glimpse into
our world didn’t frighten, but inspired you. Of course, none of
this would have been possible without the support of Mayor
Ternchiev here—” He extended a hand towards the older man, who
nodded and smiled, pleased by the acknowledgement, “—so our thanks
go to him.”

Nicholas clapped his gloved hands, and a
round of polite applause echoed inside the hall. “Thank you all for
your time and patience, and we hope to see you again next year. The
Nightingale Circus wishes you … good night!”

The performers took a deep bow, and when
they straightened again, the masks were gone, revealing smiling,
perfectly human-looking faces.

The audience burst into wild applause.

With the hall emptying, Dale offered his
hand to Aurore to help her up. He waited patiently while she
fiddled with her gloves, folded the program, and slipped it into
her purse.

“If you care to join us, there are
refreshments in the lobby,” Renard told Ternchiev. “And you might
like to meet a few members of our crew. I know they want to
personally express their gratitude for allowing us to perform
here.”

Out of his seat, the mayor hesitated,
glancing back at Aurore, who didn’t hurry to leave the cozy box.
She snapped and unsnapped her purse, frowning at the uncooperative
clasp.

“It’s all right, Uncle,” Aurore said, waving
a hand. “You go ahead. We’ll join you in a minute. I’d like to get
my wrap first. It’s chilly in the lobby.”

Ternchiev gave them an indulgent smile,
muttered something about “young people”, and let Renard lead the
way.

Witnesses gone, Dale bent over to free
Aurore’s heel from the hole in the floor. Her foot slipped free
before he could reach it, and she left her seat with a fluid
motion, avoiding all contact.
All right. Back to square
one.

“Everything working properly?” he asked,
unsure what she was planning. Whatever it was, he was still her
date/bodyguard, so he had to follow her lead.

“Yes.” The answer came in a clipped voice.
“Everything’s fine.” She did a twirl to prove it, and the dress
swayed around her feet.

Dale nodded, pretending to take her word for
it. The glitch was gone, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t return,
especially with them not knowing what had caused it.

Since when did he care about what happened
to the Golden Lady? His expenses would drastically decrease if she
disappeared from the picture. On the other hand, the circus people
might become less accommodating without the Golden Lady putting
pressure on them and vouching for him. Either way, he needed
her.

“Good. Let’s go then.” Dale opened the door
and checked the corridor. A few people were still leaving. “We
wouldn’t want to damage your reputation.”

“What reputation?” Aurore’s smirk was cold,
but less secure as she slipped past him.

While they walked down the stairs, Dale’s
hand rested on the small of her back in case she stumbled again.
Probably thinking the same thing, and busy holding up the dress so
she wouldn’t step on it, Aurore didn’t push him away, but her back
was as stiff as a board. By now, Dale was convinced she had no
prosthetics in her back.

In the wide entrance hall, well-dressed
people stood in small groups and chatted with the performers.
Everyone looked relaxed and polite, if not downright friendly. The
glasses they held might have had something to do with that. The
crew also helped by not wearing masks and having changed into
proper attire.

Aurore scanned the hall and veered in the
direction of her uncle, who talked animatedly with Renard. The
ballerina hung onto the magician’s arm. On his other side stood the
silk girl and the tall, blond aerialist. They all wore frozen,
cautious smiles.

“Ah, there you are …” Ternchiev waved for
Aurore and Dale to join them. “I was just telling our friends about
the White Night. The museums in town, and part of the Hrad, will be
open all night next Saturday with free admittance. There will be a
small reception as we have visitors from abroad, and I have a great
idea. You should come! It will be great publicity for you.”

“I’m not sure we—” Renard started.

“Oh, I’m not talking about a show like you
did here. God, no. It would be a fire hazard, and we can’t risk
damaging the Hrad, although it’s a shame …” Ternchiev’s eyes
lingered on the redhead for an extra moment. “No, I’m talking about
only a few acts. Something that doesn’t require much preparation
…”

“To do inside the Hrad,” Renard said.

“Yes, inside the museum, or in the yard if
you want to use fire.”

Renard exchanged a look with Dale. He could
see the wheels spinning inside the magician’s head, if only
metaphorically. He seriously hoped there were no wheels in there
because it would interfere with the use of his telekinetic power,
wouldn’t it? But an official invitation to the Hrad on the desired
date? They couldn’t pass on that.

“I suppose we can do that,” Renard said.

Both of his female companions nodded in
agreement.

“And you
must
bring the Nightingale.
She definitely must sing!”

Ternchiev’s exuberance was met with less
enthusiasm.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Renard
said. “The Nightingale only does her shows for the circus.”

“That’s ridiculous. All singers perform in
public. It’s what they live for.” Ternichev gesticulated with his
hands, discarding all protests.

“
Not
the Nightingale,” Renard said
calmly. “She hasn’t performed in public in years … bad experiences
…”

“
Very
bad experiences,” the Swan
said.

“Nonsense. There will be no bad experiences
here.” Ternchiev rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure of that. Now,
where is she? Let’s talk to her and see if I can convince her.” His
grin clearly indicated he had no doubts he could.

“The Nightingale has returned to the
circus,” Renard said. “She apologizes for the inconvenience and
regrets missing the chance of meeting you, sir, but she was
exhausted after the show.”

“No, no, this won’t do …” Ternchiev turned
to Aurore. “My dear, talk to these people.”

“I’m sure they’ll reconsider once they get
some time to think this through and make the necessary
arrangements,” Aurore said. “Patience, Uncle. There’s a whole week
ahead of us.”

“I know, but she has such a wonderful
voice.” Ternchiev pouted like a child, having his request
denied.

Aurore laid a gentle hand on his arm. “You
know what will help? More drinks. And I don’t have one. Excuse us.”
With a flourish of the dress, she abandoned the group, Dale
following, but didn’t head to the left side of the hall where the
drinks were served.

A quick scan of the crowd made it easy to
spot the absence of the people for whom she was searching. “They’re
not here,” Dale said. “They escorted the Nightingale back.”

“How can you be so sure?” Aurore slowed her
pace but didn’t stop.

Dale shrugged. “It makes sense.” From what
he’d seen at the circus, the knife throwers were the only ones
carrying weapons at all times. And the Nightingale needed to be
protected. Many people would kill for her mesmerizing voice.

“That’s even better. We were going there
anyway.”

The announcement didn’t come as a surprise
after tonight’s glitch. During their first meeting, she
had
said her technician was out of town. “Will they know how to deal
with those?” Dale nodded at her arms. “I saw them butcher a kid’s
hand, but these seem more advanced than that.”

“I don’t know about them, but someone else
does. He attached them twelve years ago.” She didn’t say anything
else until they retrieved her cape and reached the car parked
behind the theater.

“Out.”

Despite the poor lighting, the driver had no
trouble recognizing Aurore. He jumped out of the car and stepped to
the side.

She looked at Dale. “Drive. You know the
way.”

Yes, ma’am
, Dale almost said.

He drove around the theater square and
headed for the bridge. The traffic was light because of the late
hour, and the dim lighting didn’t encourage speeding—another one of
Ternchiev’s initiatives.

In the passenger’s seat, Aurore wrestled
inside her cape, her skirt landing in the back seat. Then, white
silk flew in the same direction. She fought a series of buttons or
zippers under the cover of the cape, but when her hands came out,
they still wore gloves. She had either ripped them apart or
shortened them somehow.

“I came prepared,” Aurore answered to Dale’s
unspoken question. She shuffled in her seat, let out a sigh, and
settled down.

The next question came out of nowhere.

“Do you know who the Nightingale is?”

Dale kept his eyes on the road, giving the
question serious thought. “Her identity is not relevant to my
plan.”

“It might be
now
.”

“You don’t care
that
much about my
success. You have something to gain from it, but nothing to lose.
So why do you ask?”

“I’ll cut twenty-five percent of your debt
if you find out who she is for me.”

“Why?”

Aurore flexed the fingers of her left hand.
When she spoke, she’d dropped the business tone and used a
reminiscent one. “I spent my fifteenth summer at the circus. And I
returned home with these.” She held up her hand. The white silk
gleamed in the passing streetlights. “It was a painful summer. But
there was this girl, younger than me, who stopped by every day and
sang to me. Her voice was the only thing that managed to numb the
pain.” She paused. The streetlights flashed over her pensive
features.

“I was there when those people came in and
took her away. Rake and Spinner hadn’t joined the circus yet. We
were all alone, as there didn’t seem to be a need for extra
security. They took her, and I couldn’t alert anyone. Big Dino paid
the ransom, and I suspect he did more than that, but by the time
she got back, it was too late. They had done terrible things to
her. I was recovering nicely so I wasn’t allowed to see her
anymore. Then, just before leaving the circus, they erased my
memories of her. I can’t recall what she looked like, and it annoys
the hell out of me.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Dale asked, as
he turned the car into the south part of town.

“No.” Aurore rubbed her forehead. “I know
it. I just can’t remember …”

“If they don’t want you to know—”

“There must be a reason, right?” She glanced
at him and shook her head. “I’m sure there is. You haven’t met Big
Dino, have you? He’s very protective of his own.”

“Even when it comes to you?”

“Yes. I’ve acquired some power in this city
… I’m sure you noticed.”

“I did. More reason for him to keep you on
his side.”

“Yes, except that … I was his little side
project, and he even hoped I would stay for a while. The circus was
different back then. It was more of a freak show. I guess they owe
the class to Anya and Nicholas. Big Dino made a huge compromise
taking him in. Tonight was one of those times when it paid
off.”