Boom

Marguerite was in her room. Granted, the room was more of a traveling box, suspended from one of the slew of air balloons the circus used to travel. The front of her room was covered by a curtain which she dropped for the sideshow, with drop-down steps leading to the ground and a small gathering area in which she could entertain passersby with her menagerie.

The animals were restless this afternoon.

They must sense my agitation from last night, Marguerite thought. She tended to each chamber, outfitted with cloth and watering bowls, and occasionally a small bit of greenery. Though she would have liked to imitate natural settings for her displays, the plant life did not fare very well to life in the cabins, which varied altitude, temperature, and humidity too often to cater to anything but the most resilient of plants, and even then the animals did not always get along with those plants. So, she decorated each animal's cage much like a person's room, with small pillows and sheets of cloth that she purchased as scraps from tailors and accepted as gifts from Alexandra. It made for pleasant looking living, and the animals seemed content enough.

While replacing the water of the two tigers, one of the felines snarled and scratched Marguerite's fingers. She removed her hand, closing the cage door with haste while the cats swung their tails and sat back on their haunches, continuing to snarl. The elephant let out a cry as well, and the rest of the animals echoed the chorus of alarm.

Then she heard thunder. A loud crack, like a whip of air, followed by an incredible jerk of the whole cabin sent Marguerite to the ground. The ceiling burst into flames, and Marguerite could smell that some of her hair was singed. Recovering, Marguerite opened her pockets with one hand as fast as her fingers could manage, while the other began opening cages and removing the animals. She drew her goggles over her eyes and snatched the elephant, stuffing it into its usual pocket. She scanned the rest of the cages. Could she fit all of them in her coat? In another pocket, she placed the two horses, pulling a handkerchief between them, hoping they wouldn't break each others' legs. The tigers bit and clawed with greater fervor, but Marguerite gritted her teeth and placed each one into two other pockets. The heat from overhead grew in intensity, and the cabin shook again.

It must have lowered enough to unbalance the supports, she thought. She reached into her belt pockets and started emptying them, knowing that those contents were replaceable. Into each leather pouch she placed a monkey, followed by the rhinoceros. She patted each pocket, checking for more free ones, and decided to place the two lions into a pocket together on her arm. The bears were shivering when she picked them up, and she dropped them together into her hip pocket. Marguerite's fingers and wrist suffered a bit of damage from claws, teeth, and tusks, but she retrieved every last animal and stored it in her now crowded lab coat, the pockets bulging with miniaturized life. The cabin walls were charred, and it was becoming difficult to breathe. Marguerite heard shouting from outside, and she dashed toward the noise, covering her face with her arm to block as much of the flames eating her curtains as possible.

She burst into the daylight, coughing and hoping her feet would keep her steady until she cleared the pyre lit behind her. The circus troupe was frantic, searching for sources of water, clearing the rest of the balloons away from hers with haste. Most were scorched, and some had sparks dancing across their surfaces, threatening to penetrate the balloon's surface and ignite the contents. The animals wriggled about her body, and Marguerite could hardly tell if she was shaking or they were. She lifted her goggles from her eyes, which hurt. She had burn marks from the metal of the goggles heating and sticking to her face.

The regular animal trainers were dashing across the center field, gathering the animals into the tent in case the stables caught fire as well. Several of the horses nearly bolted, but the handlers blindfolded them fast enough to draw them back to the tent. A pillar of smoke snaked its way from Marguerite's former balloon, and she wondered how many of her notes she could remember, wishing for the first of what would be thousands of times that she had made them in duplicate.

A ring of street observers was beginning to form. They were a strangely calm frame to the panic within their circle. Marguerite wondered if this was what it was like to perform under the Big Tent, and if so, she did not want to be part of it.

"Marguerite!" Alexandra cried, "Marguerite, are you all right?"

"No," she said. "I hope the animals are, though."

"Where are-" Alexandra had placed a hand on Marguerite's arm, near the pocket with the lions, who had begun to poke their heads out the corners. "Oh, oh my. Did you get them all?"

"I think so." Marguerite tugged on the pocket cover, pushing the lion's noses back into the pocket. "Find me somewhere to put them, please. I am afraid some of them may hurt each other, or themselves, if they stay in here too long."

Alexandra helped Marguerite to her feet, and Marguerite noted with interest that she had not realized when she had fallen to her knees. Halfway across the circle of quickly shifting balloons, Marguerite saw Marie running toward them with Colette shortly behind her. Asmodeus was also in sight, his usual overcoat cast aside.