Shadowplay (15 page)

Cyan and the unknown man sat down on a bench. I took a deep breath and hurried down the wooden stairs. My illusion as a washerwoman was not as strong here – washerwomen did not wash their clothes in the ocean. I hugged the basket close to my chest and kept under the pier. I stopped below Cyan and the unknown man, the shadows of their feet above me, their toes turned toward each other. I dropped the basket and climbed the log support of the pier until I was close enough to hear what they were saying. I could only hope someone would not see me and shout an alarm.

“…and I’m not sure what I should do,” Cyan was saying. I strained closer.

“Why do you have to do anything? They have made their choice.” From his accent, I guessed he was from the northern town of Niral.

“I feel like I should do more,” she said. I craned my neck. There was a wider gap in the planking. I could see their faces, though it was at a rather unflattering angle. The muscles in my neck ached as I studied them. Cyan looked upset, her fingers dancing across her knees.

“It’s my fault,” she said. “All of it. I’ve ruined their lives and mine.”

“You couldn’t control it, Cyan. And it’s a blessing.”

“It’s no blessing.” Her voice was bitter. “It’s a curse.”

They were definitely not talking about me and Drystan. So what were they talking about?

Cyan looked to her left and her right, lowering her voice. “I’m sure it’ll happen again, where I am now. There’s lots of it in the theatre – I can sense it. I can hear the whispers at night, when I try to fall asleep. One is particularly strong. I feel as though it’s calling to me.” She sounded weary.

“You’ve not been sleeping well, have you?”

She sighed. “No.”

“I can always tell,” he said, and his words were tender. Cyan turned her face to his and they kissed gently. He held her face with his hand, the other on the back of her neck. She rested her arms around his back.

I blushed, abruptly ashamed. I had been so quick to think the worst of her, and she had only snuck off to see her beau. I knew I should shimmy down the post and return home, but I stayed despite the splinters digging into my palms. I wasn’t proud of that, but I was curious. What was in the theatre that called to her? What choice had who made?

Cyan leaned her head against the man’s shoulder.

“I still feel like I should go and speak to them. Before things get any worse.”

The man shook his head. “They said if they ever saw you again that they would put you on the first boat back to Temne. You don’t want that, do you?”

She shuddered. “No.”

“But there ain’t no demon. Styx below, they’re not seeing sense.”

“They fear what they don’t understand,” she said, heavily.

“Well, what you did scares me too, a little, but I know there was a reason it happened.”

Curiosity burned brighter within me.

“I don’t know. I hope it never happens again. I like where I am now. I don’t want to leave just yet. And I’m close to you.” She reached out and touched his face.

“So it’s good with Maske?”

“It is, so far. Although I can tell the two trainees are so stuffed full of secrets that they’re practically spilling out of their ears. They’re so scared I’m going to discover them! There’s a Shadow after them for something. And it worries me – makes me think about my parents’ threat to hire one to find me and drag me back.”

I blinked.

“You know that was just a threat. Are you sure it’s safe with then?”

“I don’t know. I have one of my feelings…” She glanced down, and I held my breath and wished for the power of invisibility. If she saw me through the slight gap in the floorboards, she gave no sign of it.

“Maybe you should leave then. I don’t much like the thought of you bunking with criminals, I must admit.”

Cyan chuckled. “Oh, Oli, don’t fret. I don’t think they’re criminals. Just people with secrets. I’m used to that. I did grow up in the circus, after all. Everyone there had a tale or ten to hide. I’ll be careful. And if they are dangerous, I’ll take care of it.” She sighed and leaned further against his side. “When do you sail out?” she asked, sadly.

“Three weeks tomorrow.”

 “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“I know, sweet. But it won’t be long. We’re just going to Kymri and back. Quick cargo trip. You won’t even miss me.”

“I always miss you.” They kissed again. I reckoned I had eavesdropped enough. I made my way down the pole, glancing up a last time at the shadows of their feet turned toward each other before I headed back to the Kymri Theatre.

My head was heavy with storming thoughts. She wasn’t a spy, but that did not mean she was not dangerous.

 

A few days later, I was up in the gridiron – the section above the stage where we attached the near-invisible wires for tricks such as levitation, or for people to manipulate objects above the stage or throw confetti. The wires had grown tangled in practice that morning and I’d agreed to fix them. Drystan was in the library, Cyan in her room, and Maske in his workshop.

Cyan had not left the theatre since she visited her sailor. As far as we could tell, she sent no missives or messages. But I could not shake my unease.

“Drystan,” I said one evening before we went to sleep. “Should we just leave and make a run for it? Make the money for passage elsewhere? We don’t know what Cyan’s up to.”

“That’s probably the wisest thing to do. But do you really want to run? And we have no concrete proof that she’s up to anything.” He paused. “And I like it here. Seeing Maske again. We were so close, and that connection is still there.”

I liked him too, though at times he grew far too quiet, and he kept his own counsel.

“Alright,” I had said, turning to the wall. “We stay. For now.”

I drifted from the memories and back to the present, balancing on a gridiron twenty feet above the stage of the theatre. I held my tongue between my teeth and I plucked apart the wires, drawing them up from the stage and winding them into loose spools. It was cramped up there, and dusty. After I finished, I worked my way to the ladder down to the stage. But I had missed a wire, invisible in the dim light. I tripped, though I managed to grab the railing and dangle above the stage.

I sighed, annoyed. I made to pull myself up, but before I knew it, my damp hands slipped and I fell twenty feet through midair. I had enough time to be surprised and angry at myself and try to twist for a better landing before I hit the wooden stage.

I landed with a sickening thump. For a second, I felt fine. And then: pain. I had landed on my side, my hip on fire. At least I hadn’t landed on the arm I had broken. My head rang. I was winded and couldn’t cry for help. I lay sprawled on the stage, hoping someone would come and find me.

Pain warped time. At some point, I heard footsteps. A cool hand rested on my forehead.

“Sam?” Cyan asked. “Are you alright?”

I couldn’t remember who Sam was. I mumbled something.

“What happened? Did you fall?”

I blinked. It was so bright.

“Are you hurt?”

Was I? I couldn’t tell. “Dunno,” I managed to mutter.

“I’m going to help you up. If something hurts, tell me.”

“Everything hurts.”

She pressed her hands along my spine. “Have you hurt your back?”

I considered. “No. It’s more my side.”

“Good.” She made comforting noises, and slowly, she helped me into a sitting position. The ringing in my ears faded, but nausea roiled in my stomach.

“I’m alright,” I said. And I was. Just very, very sore. I rolled over onto my uninjured side and lifted my shirt, pulling away the waistband to my trousers. I would have quite the bruise.

More than the ache in my side, my head throbbed anew as I realized she had no reason to come to the theatre at this time of day.

“How d’you know I was hurt?”

“I thought I’d walk around. My legs had stiffened from reading for so long.”

I moved a little and grimaced. Maybe I hit my head as well, for I seemed to lose my good sense as I said, “Oh, that’s bollocks, Cyan, and you know it.”

She coughed. “Alright, it is. I was reading in my room and I had the strangest feeling that you were hurt.” She fiddled with a bead in her hair. “So… So I came down to see.”

I blinked at her. “Maybe you’re a psychic.”

She laughed, but it sounded nervous. “What happened? Did you fall?”

“I did.”

She looked up. “From… from the gridiron?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good twenty feet or more. Nothing’s broken?”

She helped me stand. I took a few cautious steps around the stage. “I seem to be alright.”

“You were lucky.”

“Looks like.”

“Sam.”

I glanced up at her serious tone. “Yes?”

“I know you followed me yesterday.”

I froze. How did she know?

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you. I’d have followed me, too.” She grinned, a little wickedly. “You look quite pretty in a dress.”

I coughed again. Pain still thrummed through my body. “Thank you. I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but I want you to know…” She trailed off, her fingers worrying a bead in her hair. “I want you to know that I’m not out to get you. I’m just trying to find my own way. And you have a Shadow after you. And I have a feeling one might be after me. Maybe even the same one.”

I blinked.

“I know, it seems unlikely.”

“How do you know a Shadow is after you?”

“I don’t, not really. Oli went to the circus, after we spoke. He spoke to my parents to try and make amends. I didn’t ask him to, but it’s the sort of fellow he is.” She smiled sadly. “My parents did want me back, but wouldn’t tell him anything. He asked some other circus folk, and they told him my parents hired a Shadow. I don’t know why, but I think it might be Elwood. I want to find out for sure.”

I felt as though my head was stuffed full of spider webs. “Cyan, why are your parents after you?”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

I waited.

“I let them down. I scared them. But I’m no threat to you. And I want to get rid of him. You and Amon must be planning something. I wanted you to know that I’m in. We need to get rid of him.”

I hurt too much to think straight. I still didn’t know if I could trust her, and I didn’t like that she wouldn’t tell me what she had done. Then again, I hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with her either.

“Sam.” Her dark eyes bored into mine. “Please. You can trust me.”

I looked at her, as if I could see straight into her. “How do I know that?”

“Because your Glamour doesn’t work on me. I’ve seen yours and Amon’s true faces from the first day. You have reddish brown hair. Greenish eyes. Amon’s blonde, with blue eyes. I know who you really are.”

With a shaking hand, I reached to my chest and turned off the Glamour. Cyan smiled at me.

“That’s better. Before, I’d sometimes see both – it’d look really strange.” She exhaled in relief.

I had to trust her. After all, she was in that vision I had in Twisting the Aces – she performed magic with Drystan, both of them smiling from ear to ear. I wanted to believe in that vision.

Convincing Drystan proved to be another matter. I convinced him that while we were in the theatre, we could turn off the Glamours. There was no point wasting the power when Cyan knew our secret.

And eventually, Drystan too realized we needed all the help we could get.

 

13

NIGHT ERRANDS

 

The Aphelion.

We shadows of the Shadow dressed all in black.

I shrugged into the dark shirt, wondering if I should have left the Linde corset off. In the darkness, Cyan might not see the small proof that I was not entirely male. But there was a chance, and so the corset remained, my skin itching beneath the linen.

Drystan and I tied dark rags around our faces.

Cyan waited for us on the roof. She wore a dark Elladan dress and an old coat of Maske’s as opposed to her customary tunic. A plaited crown framed her face.

“I still don’t see why I have to stand guard. It’s because I’m a girl, isn’t it?”

“Of course not. Are you an acrobat?” I asked.

“Are you?” she countered, derisive.

My pride smarted. “Yes,” I said. Her eyebrows shot up.

I bent down and then lifted my legs into a handstand. The arm I had broken was slightly weaker than the other, but my balance was perfect. I hadn’t lost much of my strength from the circus. Drystan I still exercised almost every day up in the loft.

“Nice trick. Where’d you learn it?”

Even upside-down, I noted Drystan’s suspicious glance. “I taught myself. Mostly.” I came back to standing.

Cyan half-smiled. “Not bad.” She flipped head over feet. Her skirts slid up, giving us a glimpse of petticoats and pantaloons and her shiny, low-heeled city boots. Her form was perfect, even wearing a corset.

We gaped at her.

“Honestly, you two. I grew up in the circus. But I’ll keep watch. I’d probably come up with better stories than you two to keep us all out of prison.”

“Probably,” Drystan agreed affably, though he was a wicked liar when he chose to be. “Let’s be about our business.” His breath fogged in the cold air.

We shimmied down the drainpipe rather than risking the creaky front door. The metal of the drainpipe was so cold I worried my skin would stick to it. The air was crisp enough to snow.

Once on the ground, I rubbed my hands together. Clouds all but obscured the half moon. Cyan landed beside me with a swift puff of breath. Drystan landed without a sound.