As the
announcer continued his spiel and the crowd began to roar with excitement,
Ellis realised that he had been holding his breath. He let it all out in one long exhale, breathed in through his
nose and then out through his mouth. He
repeated this a few times until he felt a little more calm, then her turned
back to Theophilus.
"What can
I expect, then? How is this going to
happen?"
Theophilus
shrugged. "Every circus is
different," he said, "and this will be my first time here. I was with a smaller troupe up in Anglerbay
before Kerring sent some men to buy me from them. He offered more money than my previous 'employers' had seen all
year, so it was a quick sale."
"I wonder
how he's managed to get so wealthy?"
"Oh, I'm
sure it's probably all in loans. That's
how these things work. Someone makes a
few bold offers of how good their circus will be, they score a few patrons who
help make those statements come true with their riches, then they either do as
well as they said they would and make all that money back with interest, or
they end up at the bottom of a lake in a few months time and nobody is any the
wiser, though their patrons might certainly be poorer."
"Do you
think Kerring's likely to repay his loans with this circus?"
"He has
the interest and support of the Khan, so, why not? Besides, you are going to be quite a draw."
"But
why? I'm just an ordinary guy."
"Perhaps
you were once, back where you came from, but here you are something quite
extraordinary."
"That's
all there is to it though! I'm
interesting because of where I came from, nothing else. How can I possibly be worth paying money to
see?"
"I guess
we'll see what Kerring has in store for you.
Looks like your 'tamer' is here again," the Sixwing nodded across
the yard.
Ellis turned
to look and, sure enough, there was Nadiyya, marching towards him with an
assured stride, but there was something in her expression that told of worry,
or of nerves.
"Your
first performance will be very soon," she said as she approached, "I
hope you will not let me down."
"I don't
even know you," he replied, "and you don't know me. What makes you think I have any intention of
cooperating?"
Nadiyya said
nothing in reply, but merely pointed to the large three-tailed whip which hung
at her hip. Ellis shrank back into the
cage.
"Don't
worry little kitten," she said with a cruel smirk as she stared at him
cowering, "you won't have to do very much. Just obey my commands and no one will get whipped."
She stared at
him a while longer, as if willing him to rebel, but then she turned away and
looked towards Theophilus.
“You're on
first, however," she said and then beckoned over her shoulder for a team
of porters to come over. They obeyed
immediately, further cementing Ellis' image of her as a woman not to be trifled
with, despite her apparently lowered position since the death of her previous'
charge.
It didn't take the porters more
than a minute to get the Sixwing's cage onto a trolley and begin to wheel it
away across the plaza towards where the colourful canvas of the circus'
pavilion stood, huge, vulgar and threatening at the far side. Theophilus looked back once, his expression
tired, more than worried, before he closed his eyes and let them lead him off.
"Is that
what you're going to do with me?"
Ellis asked as he turned back to Nadiyya.
"No. You have legs. When the time comes I am pretty sure I can walk you there."
From someone
else Ellis might have expected a laugh to accompany that, but Nadiyya seemed
utterly serious. It was hard to tell
whether or not she might be laughing on the inside, however, and if so that
seemed the crueller thing by far.
How
pathetic must I seem to her? he wondered, Did Siren ever see me this
way?
There was a
loud, reedy fanfare from what Ellis assumed was an instrument local to the
region and as he turned towards the pavilion he saw torches being lit around
its circumference. From inside the
crowd let out a cheer.
“Don’t I get
to see?” he asked, feeling childish and sullen even as he said it.
“You are here
to work for the circus, not to enjoy it,” she replied and Ellis bit back the
desire to suggest that there was a sign that she truly loved her
work. Instead he sat at the back of the
cage, aware of Nadiyya’s watchful eyes upon him, and sulked.
All around them
it grew very dark, but it was far from still.
Porters moved cages and props and pieces of staging and scenery to and
fro. Performers hurried about, putting
in a few last minutes of practice before they were due in the ring, or quickly
changing costumes for their next appearance.
Above it all
the palace of the Khan rose, stately and serene, its great dome and stepped
towers of differing heights lit up from beneath using a system of complicated
lenses. It seemed another world
entirely.
Nadiyya did
not stay with him the whole time, having other duties to attend to, and whilst
she was gone he found it a little easier to think clearly about his situation,
though he saw no way out on his own.
When she returned at last, late into the night, he knew that his turn
had come.
"You are
up next: the final performance," she said curtly, "do well and I'm
sure Kerring will reward you... somehow."
She didn't sound so sure.
"Let's
just get this over with," Ellis replied.
He wasn't exactly resigned to his fate, but he didn't see he had any
other option either. The best he could
hope for was that it was quick and painless and that a plan would come to him
with tomorrow’s sun.
Nadiyya opened
his cage, quickly grabbed a hold of him - though he had no intention of
running, he didn't fancy his chances of getting very far with this mad 'tamer'
chasing after him - and yanking him ahead of her along the plaza. They walked briskly, reaching the pavilion
in less than a minute and then they were sweeping aside dusty canvas to enter
into a strange inner sanctum of tired, sweatu performers, animal droppings and
straw.
Another
curtain of canvas separated them from the ring and Ellis could hear Kerring
speaking loudly on the other side.
"An' now,
I, Valter Kerrin’, wish to show you the greatest treasure o' my circus o'
delights. Many o’ you will 'ave 'eard
the tales, I'm sure, o' the boy who appeared one day, only a few months ago,
now, on the streets of Shalereef, 'ailin’ from a world where the skies are not
dull, leafy green, oh no! Where this
young lad comes from the skies are blue as the eyes of prettiest maiden, blue as
cobalt, blue as sapphires. 'Is name is
Ellis Graves and 'e is 'ere tonight because I found 'im, I took 'im in from the
dangerous streets of Searin’sands an' I gave 'im an 'ome.
"So, my lord
Khan, ladies an' gentlemen, boys an' girls, I give you, Ellis Graves, the Boy
from the Other World!"
There was a
sudden outpouring of rapturous applause as Ellis felt Nadiyya's knife slipping
through the ropes which bound him, quickly followed by her hand pushing him
forward through the slit in the canvas into a ring of bright lights, murmuring
crowds, sawdust, blood and, at the centre of it all, the man who had made it
all possible, that wretched merchant, Valter Kerring.
Ellis
panicked. It seemed like every muscle
in his body had frozen solid, like his mind and his will had somehow become
completely separate from his flesh, now no more than a breathing statue. He looked out into the darkness of the crowd
and, though he could see no faces, he was acutely aware of every gaze and the
billion thoughts that must lie behind them.
His thoughts
were too confused, too fragmented to be coherent, but the sum total of all that
mental energy was this, a single question: What must they think of me?
Dimly he was
aware that Kerring was approaching him.
He tried to turn, to face him, or to defend himself, he wasn’t entirely
sure, but he only managed to shift his gaze.
His body wouldn’t obey him at all.
He started to shiver.
“Oh, look at
‘im ladies an’ gents, the poor lad is still traumatised by the mysteries o’
Shadow,” there was some mild-mannered laughter, a few ‘awh’s of sympathy, “what
‘e needs is a warm Shadow welcome!” And
with no further warning Valter Kerring embraced Ellis with a tight, yet
bizarrely affectionate hug, offset by the reek of stale sweat, garlic and
onions and halitosis. It was like being
tackled by a gigantic, mouldy teddy bear.
“Smile, boy,”
Kerring whispered into Ellis’ ear through the gritted teeth of his own grin,
“they wanna to see you ‘appy and you don’t wanna see me angry, do ya get what
I’m sayin’?”
Ellis tried to
nod, but only managed a blink, which Kerring caught as he pulled back and
beamed at him.
“ ‘E’s feelin’
better already, aren’t ya, Ellis my boy?”
This time
Ellis could nod and suddenly he found control seeping back into his nerves, his
body starting to behave like it was really his. Glancing warily at Kerring he put on his best stage smile. He wondered if he should say anything.
“Now I know
you all want to see some proof that this ‘ere chap is from somewhere other than
this fine city o’ ours and I can assure you, you’ll ‘ave it, if you pass by the
plaza after the show, where Ellis will be more than ‘appy to answer questions;
for a small fee to ensure ‘is continued welfare, o’ course. Won’t you Ellis?”
Ellis
nodded. There wasn’t really anything
else he could do, but the thought of all those people coming to see him and of
pretending that he was in the circus of his own volition made him feel sick.
How will
they do it? he wondered, realising that the crowd couldn’t see him tied up
in a cage, or Kerring’s precious illusion would be shattered and the good will
of the crowd would no longer be his.
“So, I want ya
to give Ellis a warm round of applause as he ‘eads backstage to ready ‘imself
for your questions.”
Kerring
flicked his hand in a gesture of dismissal and Ellis realised that he had to
find the slit in the canvas once again.
He turned around as the crowd began to applaud, less loudly now than
before. He suspected that some of them
were rather disappointed with the star attraction. The slit was right in front of him and he found he had to try not
to run as he made his way towards it.
Kerring gave
his finishing speech – “An’ a special round of applause for all the others
who…” – as Ellis stumbled through the canvas into the firm, waiting arms of
Nadiyya.
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