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“Please tell me it’s time,” I beg, smiling.
Dr. Louis has been busy, and it shows on his face. He’s been taking care of all the children, making sure they are gaining weight in a healthy way and mending those who came with wounds. They are often found running through the circus tents, happy and smiling—not all of them, but many. They will never forget their time at that orphanage, but at least we can help them make good memories. I spend time with them every day, telling stories of dragons and princesses who don’t need to be saved and princes who are brave and caring. They listen closely, absorbing the stories, and I know they believe it now. They may be fairy tales, but they saw the guys and me rescue them. There’s hope, and we’re a part of that.
“I’d say it’s about time for it to come off.” Dr. Louis nods as he taps the boot. “You’ll need to work on regaining muscle mass, but I think you should be okay.”
He carefully unstraps the boot and pulls it off, then he flexes my foot and checks everything. “Any pain?” he asks.
“A dull ache sometimes, especially on cold nights,” I answer.
He nods. “Unfortunately, I can’t help that. You’ll likely deal with that forever now, but at least it’s healed and you can walk.” He gestures for me to get up. “Let’s see.”
I stand and gingerly put my weight on my leg. There’s no sharp pain or sudden cramp, so I take one step and then another. Grinning, I turn back to Dr. Louis and throw my arms around him.
“Thank you,” I say, wanting him to know how much it means to me. Dr. Louis took good care of me while I was injured, and now I can walk again. I’m finally free of the boot!
“No need to thank me.” He flushes. “It’s part of the job.”
“Don’t be so humble,” I tease. “You’re amazing. Look how well you’re taking care of the kids.”
“Anyone would do the same,” he says, his face reddening further.
“No,” I protest, shaking my head. “You and I both know they wouldn’t.”
Those words linger between us before he clears his throat. “Right. If you have any more pain, let me know. Take it easy on that leg for a while though. I wouldn’t want you to injure it again. No jumping off tall things or doing any cross-country running,” he teases before patting my head and walking out the door, leaving me to stare after him with a smile.
I flex my calf again and laugh at the feeling of it. “Finally,” I murmur before heading out of my tent.
Hilda insists we meet every night. I enjoy our sessions, and the closer I get to reading the cards as well as she does, the longer she insists we practice. That’s why I find myself in her tent past midnight, my eyes starting to glaze over as I stare at the stack of cards before me.
“Once more,” Hilda encourages, “and then we can finish for the night.”
I nod dutifully and sigh, my gaze on the stack. I focus on what I want the cards to show me. I reach for the static in the air and the feeling buzzing beneath my skin. I close my eyes and dig deeper, fading into the darkness in my soul, then I place my hand on top of the stack.
“Show me,” I whisper. I pull my hand away and open my eyes, watching as the stack vibrates with energy. For a moment, it does nothing, and then three cards slide from the middle of the stack and spring into the air.
I blink, especially when one of them is the joker card, the same one I once clutched in my bleeding hand.
“How did that get in there?” I say, and then I focus on the other cards. Awareness slams into me the same moment it does Hilda. I stumble back from my stool and look at her with wide eyes. “Hilda?—”
“I see,” she rasps. “Go! Warn the others!”
Just as I throw the tent flaps open, the first screams fill the air. My head jerks in their direction, and I stumble toward the sound, my fingers clenching tightly. Flames begin to climb a tent at the farthest edges of the cirque before leaping to the next. More screams split the night, but this time from pain instead of fear.
Horror fills me as I rush deeper into the cirque.
“Wake up!” I scream as loudly as I possibly can, my voice cracking in terror. “Wake up! Fire! There’s a fire!”
I take off running in the direction of the flames, but the other sounds reach me a second later. Whoops and hollers of excitement.
“Die, freaks!” someone shouts before laughter follows.
White-hot fury slams into me so brutally, I nearly stumble beneath it.
“We’re under attack!” I yell, switching my warning. “We’re under attack!”
Diamond rushes through the tents in front of me so suddenly, I startle. His mask is on his face, and he holds a machete in his hand. He sees me and tosses me my mask and a large wrench used for rigging.
“How many?” he asks.
