The Show Must Go On: Gears Are Turning

Stagehands and performers were bustling about the grassy sward like bees in a hive, cleaning up the last remaining wreckage of Marguerite’s balloon and preparing for the night’s performance. Lights were going up in the main tent and on lines around the circus ground, like dozens of fireflies twinkling into existence. There was a sort of buzzing in the air; the mingled voices of so many conversations from those enthusiasts lining up to get good seats at the night’s performance. A breeze still weaved and sighed its way amongst the outlying trees, dancing across the tops of the tents to caress Asmodeus’ cheek. It was not a wind that (belies/portends) the oncoming storm but a comforting breathe that sends the low clouds to racing, set ablaze in the light of the setting sun.

Asmodeus made his way calmly but quickly through these happenings, this organized chaos, headed for the zodiac-patterned balloon and tent wherein he would find Alexandra. Colette had her circus to manage. Marguerite and Marie would be making for the market by now, acquiring the necessary ingredients for the night’s shenanigans. All that was left was for Asnodeus and Alexandra to play their part, and it was a game he was very much looking forward to. In all honesty (and when was he totally honest?), he desperately hoped that his conspirators in this plan were oblivious to his obvious favoring in assignments. Certainly a man with a mind for science such as his could have been valuable to Marguerite in the preparation of their repugnatorial weapons. And Marie could have easily filled the role of spokesperson… but no! It caused Asmodeus physical pain to think of missing this opportunity; a night out with his greatest romantic adversary. She would have no excuse not to go with him to Hirondelle’s performance.

Suddenly a man in a top hat and overcoat hurried through the crowd, his shoulder glancing Asmodeus’ by accident, snatching his mind away from these private musings. After the customary apologies, Asmodeus turned back towards the fortune-teller’s tent, in time to spot a golden-haired beauty in a dark shawl emerge from behind the flaps, and set off toward the main tent. Asmodeus quickened his pace considerably, adjusting his course to take him around the other side of the main tent. The hunt was on.