The Immortal Circus: Final Act (Cirque des Immortels) (9 page)

“Only when I’m feeling frisky,” Melody says. She glances down at the line in the grass and puffs herself up. “See that? I did that. Looks like you learned I’m the wrong lesbian to cross. Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Cortis,” I answer for him. The demon’s eyes narrow. “Apparently he’s Oberon’s son.”

“Never met the guy,” Mel replies, “but I didn’t think he was that ugly. Unless this dude’s mother’s a toaster.”

“Enough!” The demon takes a deep breath, the sudden flare of fire around him dimming as he visibly calms himself. “That is enough. I did not come here to be insulted.”

“Then why
did
you come here?” I ask. “You know about the tithe. You know you can’t hurt us. So why the hell are you here?”

Cortis chuckles. It’s a deep, rumbling sound, one that settles in the joints of my bones and refuses to leave.

“I am here to distract you,” he says. “Tell me: Your lover, the mortal, has he shared his dreams with you?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

Cortis grins.

“I thought as much. If he had, you would know he has been troubled, lately. Dreams of monsters. Dreams of burning. Every night for the last few weeks, he has watched you die—over and over and over again. That is why he set out to find you. To save you. Or did he not tell you that, either? Did you truly think it was just for love?” He sneers at me. “Do you know what the monster in his dreams looks like? The monster wearing a girl’s skin?”

“Lilith,” I gasp as things connect.
I’m here to distract you
. I turn to Melody, whose face drops by the second.

“Yes,” Cortis says. “And there’s only one way to stop the girl in his nightmares, only one way to save his love from the flames. He must tear the demon girl away from the circus. He must let her kill him. He believes his sacrifice is the only way to keep you safe. He believes he was brought here to be a martyr.”

But I’m not listening. Before the last words leave his lips, I’m running back toward the trailers. I already know what I’ll find. Sure enough, the door to bunk zero is open, and I peer inside. The room looks like a barnyard attic, with straw on the wooden floor and a dusty loom in the center, spinning the ether into the fabric that caused this war in the first place. There's nowhere to hide, and Lilith is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Austin.

“Shit.” I thump my forehead against the door.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Melody says as she races up beside me.

“I told you to stay with her,” I mutter, my voice laced with bitterness. I take a deep breath and turn, pushing past her and jogging back toward the field. Toward the demon. Melody doesn’t follow.

I know the creature’s not gone; as I wend my way through the trailers, it’s impossible to miss the glow of his muted rage. When I finally reach him, he hasn’t moved an inch.

“Troubles?” he asks.

“You’re going to tell me where they went. Now. Or I’m going to step over this line and rip your throat from your neck.”

“I believe that is what they call an ‘empty threat.’” Another smile cracks his face, veins of red light streaking out. “In any case, I don’t know where he is. My specialty is dreams. I merely showed him what would happen if Lilith was kept in the circus. I have no clue how he interpreted it from there.”

“You bastard,” I say. I take a half step forward.

“I know exactly who my father is, thank you,” he says. “And he will be quite pleased when I tell him I have succeeded.” He cocks his head to the other side, and his face takes on a distant expression, as though he’s listening to something far, far away. Then he slowly rights his head and smiles at me. “In fact, tonight has gone exceedingly well.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You will find out soon,” he says. “Until we meet again, Oracle. And we
will
meet again.” He bows with a sweep of his arm and disintegrates into ash. His dust flutters to the ground, a flurry of soot and sparks. Then even those sparks fade, and darkness swallows the night.

I stare at the pile of Cortis’s dust for a while, letting my eyes readjust to the dark and waiting for him to rise again like some demented phoenix. I don’t even notice Melody stepping up behind me until she speaks.

“I didn’t know he would take her,” she says.

“How could you have?” I say. I don’t look back at her, but the rage is gone. I mean, I’ve fucked things up so much already, losing Lilith is kind of par for course. I’m actually a little surprised she didn’t escape sooner. “I didn’t take Austin for the vigilante-hero type.”

She sighs and steps up beside me, leans her head on my shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, so I press my cheek to the top of her head and try to convince myself that our friendship, at least, is stable. In the shit-storm of everything else, she can be a rock. I need to stay calm, to keep my thoughts clear; flying off into a rage isn’t going to get Austin back. My anger won’t keep him safe.

“Why did Cortis need Austin to take Lilith?” I ask. “I mean, if Cortis wanted her to leave, couldn’t he have just contacted her in her sleep?”

“Maybe,” Mel says. “But it wouldn’t have mattered. Lilith can’t leave the show without an escort, and said escort has to be employed by Mab. Austin was just the unlucky accessory.”

I let this roll over in my mind; it’s not a stipulation I’ve ever heard of, but it does make sense. Mab couldn’t have risked Lilith just going off on her own, and I don’t think anyone in their right mind would have willingly brought the girl anywhere off site.

“Cortis said he’d been planting dreams for
weeks,”
I say. “Austin just got here a day ago.”

“If Cortis is following Oberon’s orders, anything is possible. Faeries are good at scheming, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

I laugh humorlessly. The weight of duty settles in my chest—humor’s a luxury I can’t afford anymore.
Stay calm, think clearly. There has to be a way to fix this.

“I have to find Austin,” I say. “He thinks he’s saving us by taking her away, but it’s just going to get him killed and let her out early.”

“You can’t leave,” Melody says. It’s not imploring; she says it as fact. “You’ve got a show to run. You know what Mab said—if you’re not onstage, you’re dead. Along with the rest of us.”

“And we’re all dead if Lilith stays out there,” I reply. “Fuck, Mel, I think we need to come to terms with the fact that I’m dead no matter what.” I know that statement should crush me, but there’s actually a small note of relief. What was it Kassia had said about my past life?
The last thing you said before you died was ‘thank you.’
I’m starting to understand where past-life-me was coming from.

Not that death is a release—that’s already been proven. I’m bound to this battle for eternity.

Melody sighs. “Do you think you could catch him and be back in time for tomorrow’s act?”

“Catch who?”

Mab’s voice cuts through the cold night air like a dagger. The blood drains from me immediately; there’s no way I can explain this to her, and no way I’m going to make it out of this with my skin. But when I turn, there’s a distinctly frazzled look to her. Her black hair is wild, and her usual sultry attire has been replaced with full-length black leather armor studded with emeralds.

“Mab,” I say. Words war in my head at that moment, and my body is gripped by the unshakable desire to kneel or curtsy. The rest of me wants to start screaming at her or apologizing or both.

“I believe I asked you a question,” she says, striding closer. And there’s no doubt about it, now—what I thought was just the scent of the ash or bonfire is, in fact, her. She smells crispy.

“Austin is missing,” I say, quickly glancing at a very stoic Melody. “He took Lilith to try and save us. There’s another demon out there manipulating him.”

Mab’s jaw goes tight, her crimson lips puckering with anger.

“That is not important,” she says.

Did I just hear that correctly? Another demon isn't important?

“Not important?” I ask, but she waves her hand and shuts me up. At least this time it’s not magical.

“You will come with me,” she says. There’s no nonsense in her voice, none of her usual provocative taunt. She is all business, and that business is terse. “Melody, you are in charge.”

She turns and begins to stalk away.

“Wait,” I say. “Just like that? You come back after a month of making me figure out this stupid ringmaster role and then you just give it to her?”

“Don’t be a fool,” she says, looking at me over her shoulder. “You’re still ringmaster. You aren’t getting out of it that easily. Melody is simply in charge until you return. And you will return, just in time for tomorrow’s opening.” Her eyes narrow. “Now, if you’ll hurry, I didn’t come here to discuss show business. We have a problem.”

I share a glance with Melody before jogging up to Mab, who’s already resumed her walk back through the trailers. Mab admitting we have a problem is basically her way of saying we’re fucked.

“I know we have a problem,” I say. “I already told you the problem: Lilith is gone, and there’s another demon out there.
How the hell is there another demon out there?”

Mab rounds a corner, then stops to face me. There’s no light in the corridor of trucks, but somehow I can see her through the shadows, like she’s illuminated by strips of nonexistent moonlight.

“Oberon,” she says. She puts a hand on my shoulder. Her touch is colder than frostbite, but I couldn’t shake it off it I wanted to. And in that moment, I don’t want to—for some reason, just having her there is a reminder that I’m not the only one fighting this war. She abandoned me in the past, but she’s still in the game. “And there’s more. More demons, more problems. We’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg.”

Before I can open my mouth to ask what she’s talking about, shadows swirl from her fingertips and engulf us whole.

The city sparkles in the twilight, like diamonds thrown across obsidian sand. It’s impossible to take in at first—the lights stretch into the horizon in all directions, buildings of every shape and size rise up from the landscape, everything black and foreboding. From the ridge where we stand, the city seems infinite.

“Where are we?” I ask. Because the more I look, the more I realize this
definitely
isn’t the mortal world; the sky isn’t a sky at all, but a ceiling of smooth rock, and the earth beneath my feet is obsidian and cobblestone. I don’t know where the notion comes from, but I’m suddenly not certain if the city is actually very vast or if I have become very small.

“This is my kingdom,” she says. “Well, what’s left of it.”

And that’s when my eyes adjust enough to see that not all the lights are from windows. There are fires in the city, their smoke disappearing into the velvet horizon. Things click: Mab’s armor, the scent of burning—hell, the messy hair.

“You were attacked,” I say.

“Yes,” Mab says. I can’t tell if she’s angry because her kingdom was under siege or because her pride is hurt admitting someone got the better of her. “Oberon has crossed a line, this time. When Prince Oberos attacked our tent, he wasn't acting under his father's command. That, I could almost forgive. But this? This is too far.”

“I thought you liked being at war,” I say tersely, watching the outskirts of the city burn. “What was it you said to me? That it keeps things
fun
?”

“There is a difference between being at one another’s throats and directly attacking my territory, Vivienne—not that I would expect you to understand such things.” She says it like I’m a child, but I don’t raise my guard. No matter how bristly she’s being, I know it’s because she’s on the defensive. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Oberon scared her.

“So let me guess,” I say. “This was another demon’s doing?”

“Two, actually.” She says it so flippantly, like I’m an idiot for asking.

Lilith’s taunt dances through my head:
“You think the end will come with me. But no, the end will come with three.”
Three more demons. Three more adversaries I can't hope to defeat.

“Did you kill them?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “One does not simply
kill
a demon. Mainly because they cannot be killed. Not by ordinary measures, at least.” She glances at me from the corner of her eye. Clearly, I’m not one of those
ordinary measures.

“So why did you bring me here?” I ask. “You’re no longer under attack, and I’ve got a show to run. And a boyfriend to rescue. And a bound demon to bring back. What
exactly
were you hoping to add to my plate?”

Her lips purse like those of a naughty pinup girl. “Ooh, Vivienne, you’ve gotten quite snappy in my absence. I can’t help but say I enjoy it.”

I bite my tongue—literally—and wait for her to continue.

“In any case, you are correct. The demons appeared and flexed their muscles. I flexed mine in return. A stalemate was reached, and then they fled.”

“And?”

“And,” she says, “that is why I brought you here. I need your help.”

“With what?” I say. “You clearly had it under control. I need to get back to my job.” Because in the back of my mind, I’m already imagining the hundred different ways Lilith could be torturing Austin. Even without Kassia breaking free, the little girl is more than enough to make nightmares seem tame. I nearly got my head beaten in the last time I crossed her.

“Your lover is fine,” Mab says. It doesn’t even surprise me that she can read my thoughts. “I’ve made sure time will pass slowly until you return to the mortal world—barely seconds will have passed when you reemerge. I can also assure you that Lilith won’t kill him in your absence; she knows how valuable Austin is to you, which makes him valuable to her. At worst, he’ll be tied up and used as a hostage later on. He’ll probably even still have all his limbs.”

“How can you talk like that?” I begin, but she cuts me off before I can begin my tirade.

“Because I am
queen,”
she says, “and being a queen means I must accept certain casualties on a daily basis. Right now, Austin is one such potential casualty. But so long as he is useful to Lilith, he is safe. Relatively speaking. You would be wise to remember such things, before your emotions get the better of you.”

I’m not about to tell her that having emotions is probably one of the most defining differences between her and me—one that I intend on keeping—but the temptation is difficult to resist.

“Years ago,” she continues, “you were Oberon’s prime assassin. You were his Oracle. Right now, I need those skills more than ever.”

“You know I locked those powers away,” I say. My voice doesn’t hold one tenth of the resolve I’d intended. “You said so yourself; it’s part of the contract.”

She turns and faces me, and when she crosses her arms over her chest I can’t help but think that she’s actually, finally, looking at me as an equal. The instant switch is unsettling.

“I am the Faerie Queen,” she says evenly. “I wrote your contract. What makes you think I couldn’t change it?”

I can’t speak. For a moment, I can’t even take a breath; her statement is a punch to the gut, an unraveling of a thousand illusions that kept my world neatly bound in place. Terrible, yes, but held together.

“You could…undo it?” I ask. All of this hassle to find out about my past, to work around the contracts that kept my history hidden, and now she’s willing to just snap her fingers and negate all of it?

Mab nods.

“But…but the things I did. The things that happened because you wouldn’t let me break my terms…”
Kingston died because of this; I’m ringmaster because of this. So many people died because you kept me in the dark.

“This is no time to commiserate, Vivienne,” she says, snapping me from the reverie before my righteous rage can build. “This is war. You wanted your powers locked away when we first met. I gave you that. Up until now, I have had no reason to renegotiate your contract. But now, the collective good is more important than your own wishes.”

“You mean your wishes outweigh mine,” I say. The rage might not have built, but it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface. If it wouldn’t spell my downfall, I’d happily bitch-slap the smug smile off her face. Her laugh doesn’t make it any better.

“As per usual, my wishes and the needs of my people are one and the same.”

I grit my teeth. “Get to the point, Mab. Why did you drag me to Faerie? What do you need me for?”

“What bothers me about the attack,” she says, as though she’s completely glossed over the last few minutes of conversation, “is that the demons didn’t actually try to destroy me. They just lit a few sparks in the city before vanishing. Moreover, they said something quite disturbing before they left. Something about this being
my
doing, as though
I
had a hand in their existence. And they called Oberon their father.”

“That’s what Cortis said, too,” I say. “The demon who attacked us. But that’s insane. Demons are from hell, right? How could Oberon be their father? He’s just a faerie.”

Mab shakes her head.

“There is still a great deal you need to know,” she says. She turns and begins walking down the path. “But like most things, it would be easier to show you. Come. It’s time you learned how Kassia was created.”

The ridge we’re on quickly becomes a path, one edged with stunted trees straight out of some Hollywood horror flick. We follow it down and are instantly engulfed in the shadows of the wood. Mab says nothing as we walk, which means I have plenty of time to let her words sift through my thoughts. Kassia was
created
? I never gave her history much thought—a demon was a creature from hell, simple as that—but the idea that someone would go and make such a monster is beyond me.
And Oberon somehow made three more.
As we near the walls of the city, faint lights begin to flicker through the boughs.

“Are those some sort of faeries?” I ask, pointing to a light that dances around my head. Anything to keep myself from wondering why Oberon would create more maniacs like Kassia. And then wondering what repercussions that would entail—if one demon could end the world, what could four do?