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I dress and head out to check on the cirque, something ingrained into me since I was a child.
Unlike the others, I’ve been here since I was young. I barely remember anything before the cirque. I grew up around striped tents and performing. It became my safe place and my happiness, and they became my family. Hilda often said I was brought here to lead the cirque, and I’m starting to believe she’s right. My destiny was never my own, but I would choose this place time and time again.
These people are my family.
Wandering through the tents, I find myself standing in the main path to the big top, looking from one silent tent to another. This place transforms at night, but my favorite time is always now, when it’s quiet and everyone’s safe and sleeping.
It lets me know I’m doing something right. Even knowing Ember is resting brings me joy. I’ve felt this weight since I was a child, but being with her last night lessened it, allowing me to breathe. With her, I’m not the ringmaster. I’m just me.
A soft voice reaches me. “Diamond?” I glance back to see a sleepy Ember in nothing but one of our long shirts, her hair mussed, yet she looks so beautiful, I’m lost for words. She heads my way, rubbing her eyes as she stops at my side. “Are you okay?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I murmur. “I just like to check on everyone before I start my day.”
“Do you ever rest?” she teases.
“Not really,” I reply. “There’s always so much to do, and I don’t want to let anyone down.”
“Sounds like you.” She nods, looking over the cirque. “But I don’t think it will fall apart if you allow yourself to sleep. Maybe you’re just so used to being in control, you don’t know how to do anything but.”
I swallow hard at her perceptive, innocent words, and then she glances at me, her eyes gray in the early morning light as she seems to memorize my face.
“What?” I ask, feeling too raw, exposed, and vulnerable.
She turns to face me fully. “You know, I think I saw you as a child.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“You’ve been here since you were young, right? I saw a boy. I didn’t place it entirely until now, but he reminds me of you. I think he was you.”
I smile. “I guess we’ve been connected longer than the others then.” My smile fades as I stare into her beautiful face. “My real name is Atticus.”
It feels important that she knows that when no one else does, giving her a part of me no one else has or ever will.
“It’s nice to meet you, Atticus.” Her smile is bright, and she takes my hand. “Now let’s go back to bed. Everything else can wait for the sun to rise. Until then, you’re mine, not the cirque’s.”
Swallowing my protests, I allow her to lead me back to her bed.
I let her take more of that weight from my shoulders, and when she glances back at me, smiling, I see the little girl who came all those years ago. I remember her now. How could I have forgotten? She watched me with fascination then. She still does.
I wonder if I still look at her the same—with hope.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Afew nights later, things in the cirque are running as they should. Despite the attack and lost lives, we’ve managed to repair what we can and replaced what we couldn’t. There’s still a permeating sadness due to losing friends and family, but not even that can dispel the excitement for the show tonight.
The cirque is full of families and curious townspeople who are eager to see the show and the freaks they were warned about. They always look down upon us, but they flock to come see us perform in waves. I think most people yearn for what we have, and because they can’t have it themselves, they call us freaks, but if they had the opportunity, they’d drop everything in a second and join us. Cirque Obscurum isn’t for everyone, and joining this circus isn’t like joining others, but they don’t know that. They are still curious. They still split their hearts open every night and briefly forget that we’re supposed to be the outcasts.
Tonight is no different. The stands hold more children than normal, only because the kids have been allowed to watch. I spy Melvin among them, his expression just as excited as everyone else’s as the stands fill. Tonight, I’m just as eager to see the show. Heart promised there was something I needed to watch, so here I am, excited to see what new act one of them has come up with. They never stop adding acts to their show, always practicing. Just the other week, Club brought out his spinning wheel and put someone up there from the crowd after I denied acting in it for him. There was no way I could handle that in public, I had however had to rub my thighs together as he threw the knives and she screamed, the scene reminding me of when I’d been on the wheel. The woman hadn’t looked anything less than aroused when he helped her off, but he only directed her back into the crowd with a knowing look my way. Later that night, he strapped me to the wheel and performed the same act, though it had some adjustments.
Perhaps Club has added new knives to his act, or maybe Heart has choreographed another dangerous, high-flying act. Spade could have taught Freedom a magnificent new trick. Regardless, I’m eager to see it, sitting on the edge of my seat. When Diamond comes out to begin the show, I vibrate with the same excitement as the crowd, my fingers clenched in the loose skirt around my thighs.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Diamond coos, “freaks and rebels, sinners and saints, to Cirque Obscurum. Tonight, we have a very special show for you, one that will have you shifting in your seats—either in discomfort or desire, it’s your choice.”
There’s a murmur that shoots through the crowd as he smiles, the look saccharine and sinister, but then he meets my eyes, and I know I’m in for a real show. Diamond has something up his sleeve, and it’s for me and me alone. I straighten, my fingers clenching my skirt harder. What secret have they been keeping, and how did they manage to keep it?
The show continues. Club goes through his sword swallowing act and then picks someone from the crowd to be on the wheel. It’s no less arousing this time, but this isn’t new. This isn’t what’s meant for me.
