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6
As he sprinted up the City Hall steps, Nicholas felt more optimistic than he should have about this new adventure. But the beautiful sunny morning resembled spring rather than fall, and the city buzzed with life around him, putting him in a good mood. Even the delicious aroma of fresh croissants failed to make him long for home because, for once, he had other things with which to occupy his mind.
He’d spent the night pondering their predicament, and while the feasibility of the action was debatable, he had to admit it was a bold move. The only downside he saw, besides not being able to do his regular shows, was that some of the acts might require his assistance, but he’d been careful for too long. He could use a change.
If they were allowed to do the show, the locals would see the circus folk were people like them—just with better enhancements. Maybe the next time they stopped by, they wouldn’t be forced to pull up on an abandoned track far out of town. The circus could surely use it, as the past few years had been tough because of the war and the population being tight with their money. And what was good for the circus was good for all of them.
Of course, this was all propaganda, part of the pep talk Rake had given him before leaving the train. Rake had been playing with his knives at the time. Nicholas didn’t fear him or any of the crew members, but he did want to keep his place at the circus. With Big Dino hibernating and no one else officially appointed in the boss’s place, Nicholas needed to tread carefully for a while.
He shifted the small chrysanthemum bouquet to his other hand and, after knocking on the office door, he walked in. “Madame Odette, thank you for scheduling the appointment on such a short notice. These are for you.”
The middle-aged, plump woman sitting behind the desk became flustered when Nicholas offered her the flowers. “Not a problem, Mr. Renard. Mayor Ternchiev is eager for news from the east. Real news, not like the media.”
“I’ll be happy to give him news, though I’m afraid it’s not good.” Nicholas put on a grim face and took off his gloves. “Is he in?” He nodded towards the heavy, wooden door at her right. “I hope I’m not late.”
“No, no, go right in.” Madame Odette waved a hand and pushed her glasses up her pointed nose. “He’s expecting you.”
Nicholas smiled to himself as he entered the larger office. One didn’t have to use any special type of “magic” to have people accommodate you. In most cases, it was enough to be nice. A different kind of “nice” was needed when dealing with Mayor Ternchiev, though.
“Monsieur le Maire?” Nicholas cleared his throat to announce his presence to the older man, who was busy reading the headlines rolling across a screen.
Bushy eyebrows rose before small eyes, buried in thick layers of fat, followed. “Mr. Renard, is it that time of year again?” Ternchiev turned off the screen and lowered it back into the desk.
“I’m afraid it is.” Nicholas grinned and pulled out a chair to sit. They were not quite equals, but he didn’t want to let the mayor fool himself into thinking he held all the cards. Nicholas had a few aces up his sleeve, too. “We’ve made it here again. I don’t suppose the rules have changed since last year?”
“I’m afraid they haven’t.” Ternchiev raised his shoulders in a half-apologetic gesture. “I lead this city, but I can’t force the people to change their minds. If they don’t want to see your people, there’s nothing I can do. After all, I’m only a servant of the people.”
Lies. So many lies. Banning the circus from town had been the mayor’s initiative. He remembered the slogans: No spare parts! No corruption! It was how Ternchiev had won his third mandate. The circus crew didn’t kidnap children and homeless people to use them for spare parts, but who would listen? After all, they were only circus people.
“That’s too bad.” Nicholas rested his hands on his knees. “The circus had a rough summer, and we were hoping to cut our losses on the way back to civilization. It’s going to be a long winter.”
“That bad?” The mayor’s eyebrows rose even higher. “How are things in the far east?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Nicholas shook his head. “We passed through Vilnius, Riga, Tallinn, and went up to St. Petersburg, but we had to stop there. It was too tough. We didn’t dare go to Moscow, although we’ve always been welcome there.” The mayor didn’t react to the barb, so Nicholas continued, “The land was too ravaged. The entire Russian Federation is collapsing, and the Japanese army hasn’t even crossed half the country yet.”
“The Ural Mountains will hold them back.”
“I wouldn’t put much faith in that,” Nicholas said. “They won’t cross the mountains this winter, but next year …?” He shook his head with serious concern and left it at that.
Ternchiev swallowed hard, glancing out the window as if he wanted to make sure the giant war machines hadn’t reached his doorstep. “Well … we’ll have to wait and see.”
No, they had to act before it was too late, but they couldn’t. They couldn’t fight the enemy’s bots. The situation was out of Nicholas’s hands, but he could still control things locally. Okay, it was time to earn his money. “Even if the world ended next year, I’d still like to rent the theater.”
“Ah, the theater. Yes …” The mayor turned his attention back to Nicholas. “Of course. The small hall for a week, as usual?”
“Actually, I want the whole building. The employees can take the week off. A paid vacation,” Nicholas said with a smirk.
“What do you need the whole building for?”
“We’re going to put on a show.”
Ternchiev’s mouth turned into a severe line. “Mr. Renard, you know our laws—”
“Not that kind of show,” Nicholas said. “We’ll still do our usual numbers outside the city, but for one night only, we’ll set this city on fire with new acts, just for them.”
“I don’t think—”
“It’s a brand new concept,” Nicholas continued, undisturbed. “We did some of the numbers in St. Petersburg, and they were well-received by the audience, but this will be a whole new show. A world premiere.” He moved his hands as if he was pointing at the headlines. Since the mayor failed to look impressed, he pressed further, “We’ve been working on this for some time now, and your city will get to see it first. It will be our final rehearsal before we take the show to Vienna, Berlin, and Paris.”
“I don’t know …”
“And to show our gratitude to the people of Bratislava, I am entitled to offer them twenty percent of the profit for allowing us to do the fine-tuning of our show in such a beautiful, antique theater.”
“That’s bribery,” said the mayor.
“No. Bribery is what I’m going to say next.” Nicholas propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, looking Ternchiev in the eyes. “I am not entitled to offer you five percent, but I’ll do it anyway. You know it will be a full house.”
That caught the mayor’s attention, but it still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t pull back after he’d openly called it a bribe.
Here comes the final blow.
“Besides—” Nicholas lazily sat back in his chair, “—Miss Aurore is endorsing the show. So if the municipality has something against it, she’ll buy the damn theater, and I’d like to see the person who dares get in her way.”
“Aurore supports the idea of the show? Why didn’t you say so?” Ternchiev clapped his hands. “Aurore has a good eye for arts, and a great head for business. Everything she touches turns into gold. The show will be a huge success!”
In his excited state, Ternchiev seemed to miss the irony in his words, and Nicholas refrained from pointing it out. “I’m glad we understand each other.” He put his gloves back on. “So, when can we start practicing?”
“You can start today if you want.” The mayor left his chair to accompany Nicholas to the door. “I’ll talk to the chief of police to have more agents stationed around the theater for your own protection … You understand.”
“Of course.”<
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“And I’ll have buses drive your crew back and forth. Since the schools are on fall vacation, that won’t be a problem.”
“That is very generous of you. Thank you.”
Ternchiev held the door open for him. “Twenty-five percent you say?”
“Twenty-five,” Nicholas repeated with a suave grin, and walked out.
7
Seated in a massive armchair on a platform in front of the car that contained the workshop, Cole slipped in and out of consciousness. The strong painkillers they had given him kept him numb and hazy. He was glad to have only blurry memories of the beating, but flashes of the torture kept entering his mind.
Plastic-covered boxes, which were part of his seat’s armrests, encased his arms, so he couldn’t see how bad it was. He remembered waking up screaming in the middle of the night, only to discover his jaw was also broken. The two scarred guys with knives had taken care of that, but the bone would take a while to heal. So for now, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t write, and he couldn’t think.
The universe must hate him. Dale definitely did, and Cole couldn’t blame him. Troubles from the previous job had caught up with him when he was rushing over to the next one. Lucky for them, small-time thieves were put to rest with a bullet in the head. Big-time thieves had everything important taken away from them—their skills. Cole moaned pitifully, grateful for the drugs that prevented him from exploring the entire bleakness of his future.
“It’s only soup,” a soft, child-like voice said.
Cole opened his eyes to discover a girl, mug in hand, standing next to him. Blonde wisps of hair escaped from the ponytail and brushed against her rosy cheeks. The light green dress, matching her eyes, did nothing to disguise her young body or hide the way one of her hips was lower than the other.
“I’m Cielo.” She moved, and a hint of sea salt tickled his senses. “I’ll be your waitress this fine day,” she added with a small grin. “Unfortunately, you can’t give orders. I know it’s a cliché, but chicken soup is the best we could do. Now …” Green eyes peered at him. “One blink for yes and two for no, okay?”
His brain refused to process the question right away, and the reaction was delayed. Blink.
Cielo smiled and, moving the mug in front of him, she pressed a straw against his lips. “Too hot?”
Blink. Blink.
The soup burned the back of his throat, but it made him feel alive, so he didn’t complain. He couldn’t have said anything anyway.
“Take your time. There’s no rush.” Cielo stood by his side, content to smile at the sun, switching the mug from one hand to the other when her arm got tired.
Gradually, Cole became aware of the agitation as the perception of his surroundings expanded. People rushed back and forth along the train, yelling at each other. In the distance, the big cupola of a blue- and yellow-striped circus tent rose towards the clear sky. That explained why all the people wore such colorful clothes. It didn’t explain what he was doing here and why he wasn’t in a hospital, but he liked it better this way.
After a while, it occurred to him something was off about these people, but they didn’t stand still long enough for him to figure out what it was.
“Yes, it’s a circus.” Cielo chuckled when a flock of egrets flew in front of them in perfect V-formation, following a black woman and her two-meter long pole.
“And what a circus!” someone huffed as another woman climbed onto the platform. Tall and slender, with chin-length, brown hair and dark brown eyes set in a heart-shaped face, she moved graciously around them, fluttering two sheets of paper.
“Anya, this is—” Cielo gave Cole a confused look, clearly not remembering his name.
From her advantaged height, Anya threw him a glance. “Let me guess. This is Spinner’s new project.”
“Well, yeah …”
“Charmed.” Anya nodded at him shortly, then turned to Cielo, holding up the papers covered in sketches. “I’ve been up all night drawing these. There’s no way I’m doing the show in those rags. I need new costumes.”
Cielo tilted her head. “Are you sure you need new costumes? I finished one for you last month. And we don’t even know if there’s going to be a show.”
“Nicholas will make sure there is one.” Anya rested her hand on Cielo’s arm. Her skin looked like alabaster in contrast with Cielo’s golden tan. “So, yes, I need them. I haven’t danced on a proper stage in … well, way too long.”
“Okay, but …” Cielo sighed. “You do realize if word gets out I’m making you new costumes, everyone will come saying they want one, too. There’s no way I can accommodate them all.”
“That’s why I came to you first. You can tell them you’ve had them already made for me, but I hadn’t paid you yet. They all know I’m terrible with money.” Anya grinned wickedly and wrapped an arm around Cielo’s shoulders.
The move made the straw slip from Cole’s lips, but he was too distracted by Anya’s long legs to protest. The question why she wasn’t cold in those white tights and loose blouse briefly crossed his mind. He decided he didn’t care. She looked too good to hide her body in a lot of clothes. The next second, he felt guilty for discarding his caretaker that easily from his thoughts.
But Cielo was distracted by the sight of a tall, muscular man with sandy hair walking with a short redhead across the tracks.
“Or …” Anya lowered her voice, leaning intimately towards Cielo’s ear, “I could set you up with Serioja. Although, believe me, he’s not as good in the sack as you might expect.”
Color rose to Cielo’s cheeks, and she looked away, mumbling, “No need to. Riella would probably scratch my eyes out.”
“Well, she doesn’t need to know.” Anya muffled a giggle against Cielo’s shoulder, but when Cielo’s green eyes rolled, she sobered up. “So, are we going into town to shop for fabric this afternoon?”
“I—”
“Look. Nicholas is back!” Anya’s grin widened, and she waved at a man wearing tails and a top hat. “I’ll let you know how it went.” She thrust the sketches at Cielo and ran to join him.
Cielo let out a sigh and turned her attention back to Cole. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She brought the straw back to his lips. When he made no effort to drink the soup, instead staring pointedly at her, Cielo rolled her eyes again and quietly laughed. “I know, I know. You think she’s taking advantage of me … but I don’t mind sewing dresses for her. She always has great designs.”
8
Nicholas met Anya halfway between the train and the tent. He smiled, seeing her bounce on the tip of her toes, the way she did when she was excited, trying to achieve eye level and not quite making it.
She hung onto his arm instead. “When do we start rehearsing?”
“Tomorrow, if you like,” Nicholas said, pacing his steps. Anya’s long legs could easily keep up with his, but he didn’t want to put more pressure on them. They were strained enough as it was, and he enjoyed a leisurely walk with the Russian ballerina by his side. Besides, he was in no hurry to give anyone the news about the police’s involvement.
“I knew you’d succeed.” Anya’s pleased grin said more about her confidence in her power of prediction than in his ability to get things done. She turned and gave Cielo a discreet nod, then waved goodbye to the blond girl and her companion on the platform. Her attention going back to Nicholas, she pulled him along the length of the train, towards Rake and Spinner’s car. “So, I’ve heard you’re our new art director.”
“That’s what they’re telling me, too,” Nicholas said, unsure of how he felt about that. He knew, however, where this conversation was going.
“I know you’ll be busy the next few days, but I trust you’ll tell me when my turn comes to discuss my numbers with you.”
If Nicholas hadn’t known her, he would have believed Anya truly meant what her warm body rubbing against his side insinuated. “We can talk now if you want.”
“Well, I don’t suppose there’s a way out
of it?”
“What are you talking about?” Nicholas looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I thought you’d be thrilled about this opportunity. You always talk about how you can only do silly numbers because the audience isn’t capable of appreciating the serious ones. Here’s your chance to do something different.”
“I know, and I am thrilled. It’s just that …” Anya chewed on her lower lip, almost to the point of drawing blood. She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I haven’t danced on a real stage in six years.” She nodded in the direction of the city. “These people will notice.”
“You were the prima ballerina at the Moscow Bolshoi Theater, and you still practice every day,” Nicholas said, squeezing her arm. “These people have never seen someone dance as well as you do.”
“Well … you’re sweet to say that.” Anya’s smile told him she agreed.
She was good, although not as good as she had once been. That was why she had left Moscow in the first place. Still, the years had been kind to her, and she was still in good shape. She would do well.
Anya didn’t seem to fully believe it as she stood there, trembling in the cold. At some point, they had stopped walking and turned to face each other. Her eyes were full of anguish. This wasn’t an act.
Nicholas shrugged off his coat and placed it on her shoulders. “You will be great, as always. And you can do any number you want.” He wrapped the coat tighter around her. “How about Giselle? I’ve always thought you’d make a terrific Giselle.”
“Actually, I’m thinking of Swan Lake. I feel a bit more dramatic in that.” She let out a short laugh, and then her grin turned smug. “And I can also wear better costumes.”
“I feel sorry for poor Cielo already,” Nicholas deadpanned and resumed walking.
Anya pretended to pout for a second, then grabbed hold of his arm. Her long fingers smoothed over his white dress shirt. “Nick?”