The show must go on

The thing about Asmodeus, Colette thought to herself, was that when he got an idea into his head, there was no stopping him.

Half her main performers were missing, but the show rambled gaily along towards opening time, with a few paltry tricks keeping the thin crowd entertained before the doors officially opened. Tumblers and roustabouts swarmed to and fro in a dazzle and clang of skirts and mechanisation.

A few carefree moments trickled by, though Colette's mind was humming busily under her calm visage.

"Sir?" There was a tug on her sleeve, and she pulled out of her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

The little tumbler Marie was standing there, skirts a little muddied and a suspicious basket slung over her arm. It growled quietly, and Colette quirked an eyebrow.

"I was to tell you that the others are en route."

"The missing Family members?" Colette scanned over the crowd's head for her most trusted circle of friends. Asmodeus should be back soon, or possibly not--he might stay to witness the triumph of the damage he'd caused, whatever it was. Colette didn't know the entirety of the little family's plan, but she knew enough to be worried about the ensuing wrath that Jacque could very well rain down on them all. Unless she got to him first... She shook her head. "I suspected no less."

"Actually, sir, the other audience members." Colette frowned. Indeed, a few carriages were pulling up in the distance, and from the path a few people were picking their way across the mud and flattened grass.

"How...?" She stared, taken aback. There weren't just a few; a crush of people was swiftly approaching out of the near-dark. Their show was airing later than usual; they typically made use of as much natural light as possible to save fuel, but tonight they were introducing a few pyrotechnic elements that required at the very least semi-dark to be at all impressive (to reenact the burning zeppelin, of course, with a few dramatic twists thrown in just for the hell of it.)

She had assumed Asmodeus would be as a thorn in Jacque's side, but not to cripple his show as entirely as seemed evidenced by the throng of displaced circus-goers.

They carried with them a peculiar scent of animal refuse and sulfur. Colette sniffed unhappily, hiding her pleased yet apprehensive inner emotions.

"They'll stink up the place something awful. Jacque should be relieved to see them go." Colette gave the little tumbler a small smile. "You should ensure that Marguerite's beasts are waiting safely for her when she checks, or you may wake one day to find your legs being eaten by lions."

The girl darted off and Colette neatly rolled her hat along her arm. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a real circus. Seating will begin immediately."

An Evening of Success!

The steam driven carriage clattered noisily over the cobblestones of the road as it rattled back to where the Cirque de la Vapeur had set up camp. Inside the handsome wood and brocade interior Alexandra sat in her beautiful velvet and satin gown and fumed at Asmodeus. She couldn’t believe the nerve of him! He had kissed her and in public too! That was what irritated her most out of everything he had done. The fortune teller allowed her anger to continue to simmer as she tried not to remember the kiss itself. It lingered in her mind and she had enjoyed it far too much, despite telling herself that she should stop such foolishness. Wincing, Alexandra remembered how hard she had slapped Asmodeus. Even though he deserved it, she hadn’t meant to hurt him.

The loud clamor of a crowd drew Alexandra out of her thoughts and she turned her head to peer out of the carriage window. A wide smile began to grow on her face as she saw the masses of people heading steadily towards the Vapeur. Asmodeus’ plan to lure people away from the Hirondelle and to Vapeur had worked and the circus tent was almost full to bursting! Jacque would not be pleased at all with the loss of all those customers.

Once the carriage slowed to a halt, Alexandra lifted her full skirts and climbed down the steps, anxious to change back into her usual clothes and rejoin her circus crew. The fortune teller paused for a moment on her way back to her ship to gaze at the enormous red and gold tent that filled half of the forest clearing. Green trimmed the edge of the fabric of tent and purple streamers floated from the copper pipes funneling steam from mighty engine that rumbled underneath the circus ring. As Alexandra watched, the engine roared with the opening of the show and the clouds of steam that perpetually floated above circus thickened. The great lights that illuminated the steam dimmed except for the two at the entrance, signaling to late comers that the show was just starting and to hurry if they didn’t want to miss any of it.

Alexandra smiled to herself as she continued the walk around the tent to her ship. The view of the Cirque with all its colours and lights never bored her and always managed to cheer her up after a long day. With her smile becoming a grin, Alexandra pushed open the door of her ship and got ready for the rest of the night.

The Sweet Smell of Victory

"A hundred fifty two one thousand... A hundred fifty three one thousand..." Marie was losing count in her attempts to count the time until the stink bombs were due to go off, but a small hissing noise and a sudden, unpleasant smell told her they'd worked. "Oh, GROSS." Her sudden, loud exclamation from her hiding spot under the stands was lost in similar cries from the audience up above, which she supposed meant they'd been successful, though she was too busy trying not to breath to be terribly pleased about it. She pulled the stone jar out of her basket and popped the cork out, coughing at a second nasty scent. The nearest of the little beasties, a zebra who looked as unhappy with their success as Marie felt, trotted back.

"You are all getting a bath when you get home, and I'm not going to be the one to do it," Marie informed the zebra as she gently picked it up around the middle and set it back in the basket and reached for the next creature that made its way back, a tiger that tried to claw at her when she grabbed it. It took the little things several minutes to come back from their various corners - a few bolted for Marie's little spot under the stands, looking spooked by narrow misses with the crowds streaming out of the Hirondelle tent, while others made their way more cautiously. Marie waited until she thought she had all of them - she counted a few times, and was fair sure she had all the ones she'd carted over, though with them moving all around in the basket and her own eyes watering from the stench, it was hard to tell.

She bit her lip. "Off chance any were lost, I'll tell Marguerite the smell killed 'em," she said finally, and put the lid back on the basket. The stands above were quieter now as people left - she heard an angry voice yelling in the ring and winced, wondering if it was Jacques. He certainly sounded unhappy enough, whoever he was. Time to leave. Outside, the circus was buzzing; Marie found it easy enough to slip into the crowd, basket on her waist.

She heard some kind of loud fuss out in front of the tent and wondered if it was Asmodeus and Alexandra, but by the time she pushed her way through the crowd to find out they'd left already. Marie fumed - They couldn't have waited, and let her ride back in the carriage? With her basketful of animals, and smelling like the stink they'd delivered... The carriage driver probably wouldn't have let her in under any circumstances, but she hated having to walk all the way back again.

Marie sighed and adjusted her grip on the basket, muttering violent things under her breath, though whether they were directed at her co-conspirators or the animals tumbling loudly in the basket was unclear. She set off back towards the cirque via a route of back alleys and hopping fences, which would get her home ahead of the disgruntled crowds from Hirondelle.

Stage Two: The Performance

The black iron-bound wheels of the carriage clattered noisily along the cobbled streets of Orleans, rising above the din of the sidewalks on either side; merchants as they packed away their wares for the evening, and the calls of the girls as their own nocturnal business began. The bulky steam engine mounted to the back axle pumped away rhythmically, keeping time with the passing lanterns as they flickered to life. A thin tail of gray smoke curled its way along behind the carriage, drifting up into the fading twilight. Two figures rode in this carriage; one’s mood fuming like the smokestack behind them, the other’s seemingly as cool as the breeze whipping past.

Alexandra sat leaning against the carriage wall, as far back in the corner as possible, glaring out the small windows. She was laced into a black velvet bodice, with tails spilling over a red bustled skirt of finest satin. She clutched a small fan in her black lace-gloved hands, waving it furiously before her face both to keep from fainting and from having to look at her companion.

The other occupant of the carriage shifted uneasily in the awkward silence. Beyond the windows was a city alive and active, but to Asmodeus all within the carriage was as an abandoned mausoleum. For their night out he had chosen a dove gray suit with a top hat to match; a monocle perched upon his cheek. He adjusted the leg of his trousers and glanced out the window as the world passed by, but his gaze always returned to Alexandra.

The fan dropped violently into Alexandra’s lap, and with an exasperated sigh, she finally said, “Honestly, how could you, of all people, be late?! You said to be ready by seven, and I was. Have you any idea of how restrictive this outfit is?”

Asmodeus glanced sidelong at her. “Naturally, no, but it couldn’t be helped. Have you any idea how hard it is to find such a brilliant status symbol at this hour,” he asked, reclining against his cushions, his arms spreading to indicate the dark upholstered benches and stained wood frame of the carriage interior.

Alexandra looked disdainfully about her. “Was it really necessary? I think it’s a waste of time and money.”

Asmodeus looked taken aback. “It was absolutely necessary. We have to keep up appearances, after all. Wealthy couple like us; wouldn’t do to ride up in any old wagon.” With a look of feigned innocence, he added, “Besides, we wouldn’t have been late if you hadn’t been tossing your clothes about for so long. I merely attempted to afford you ample time to prepare yourself.”

Alexandra’s eyes widened and her mouth moved to voice several sentences at once, none of which bore friendly thoughts, when a hiss of steam and a whine of metal told them the carriage was slowing to a halt. Outside the carriage lay the main tent for Cirque de la Hirondelle, currently the site of an exodus. Droves of the well-dressed and well-to-do were vacating the cloth enclosure, most with handkerchiefs held to their noses. Asmodeus turned to Alexandra with a self-satisfied expression. “See, darling? Right on time. We’re on.”

Asmodeus signaled to the footman to open the door, climbed out, and turned to offer his hand to his consort, who made sure to hold it just a little too hard. Asmodeus winced, but retained his composure, set the top hat upon his head, and spoke in a loud voice. “Honestly, what kind of circus allows their cages to descend to such depths of squalor? Surely, there can be no other reason for such a horrid reek!”

Alexandra responded. “I staunchly agree; simply wretched.”

“I had heard there is another circus in town, not too far from here, with fresh material; never before seen acts.”

“Well, that’s fortunate, but what about our tickets for Hirondelle?”

“This other circus, Vapeur, is accepting them as half-off coupons. It will only cost us a schilling!”

Those nearest to the pair had by now started paying closer attention to the conversation, and began passing along this bit of news. Asmodeus grinned at how effective it was. He looked back to Alexandra, and a thought struck him. All evening he had been admiring her; the cut of her bodice, the low neckline, her very regal bearing. He felt he could not let the chance pass him by. Leaning in close, he whispered to her, “Now kiss me.”

Alexandra recoiled, looking shocked. “What?!”

“We’re a married couple. It’s expected.”

“I never…”

“Woman!” he snapped under his breath. “Do you want this plan to fail?!”

Alexandra set her hands to her hips, ready to set her flail of a tongue to chastising the cad. “You sir…”

Asmodeus quickly slipped his arm around her waist, his hand on her cheek, and cut short her outburst with his lips. For the span of a heartbeat, Alexandra let herself fall into his embrace, tasting his lips on her own, smelling his sweet breath, letting it intoxicate her senses.

For just a heartbeat.

With his eyes closed, Asmodeus never saw the hand coming. There was a cracking sound as Alexandra’s palm made contact with his face, and his world reeled. Gathering her skirt, she stormed up the steps into the carriage and motioned the driver to go, leaving Asmodeus, dazed in mind and wounded in pride, standing in a cloud of dust before the laughing crowd. He watched her ride out of sight into the gloom, then waved down a passing horse-drawn carriage to return him to the Vapeur. In the end, it was worth it.

The Little Abominations Get to Work

Marie had only a loose grasp on what the plan for the evening was - stink bombs, sure, but she hadn't been able to find Alexandra or Asmodeus after dropping off the basket full of little abominations with pouches, so she wasn't entirely sure what happened next. She went to change into her costume for the performance that night and threw a cloak on over it - with luck, she'd be back from the other circus in time to join the rest of the acrobats, though they could work the act around her absence if they needed to - and went to find Marguerite.

Her heart beat a bit faster as she came around the main tent, from the performer's area in the back to the sideshows and crowds in the front. It was early in the night, yet an hour away from the start of their show - the lights, oil lamps and the odd, novel electric burned through the steam, and the quiet rumble of machinery shook under the chatter of the crowd and the calls of vendors. Even having worked there for years, Marie still found the circus at night thrilling, like a fairy castle up in the sky more than a bunch of tents on the outskirts of a city.

Still, star-struck or not, she navigated it with ease, and found Marguerite at once.

"Finally!" Marguerite said impatiently, thrusting the basket at her. It was awkwardly large - Marie was distracted trying to figure out the best way to carry it while Marguerite explained the stink bombs' workings, and the little animals inside moved about with each shift, threatening to make it tumble from her arms.

Pull the fuses, don't light them, three minutes, then open the cork, she repeated to herself sourly, annoyed both that Marguerite seemed to doubt her ability to deliver stink bombs to an enemy circus and that Marguerite would blame her if the stupid contraptions went wrong. Then back here, by the main entrance. She nodded, and set off.

She set off for the Hirondelle camp site, as quickly as the basket would allow. It was a long walk to the other circus, located clear on the other side of the river. "By the time I get there, our show'll be over," Marie grumbled, though when she finally arrived the Hirondelle show was hardly starting, with stragglers still drifting into the big tent. Fortunately, with their job mostly done, the ticket-checkers felt no need for diligence, and Marie snuck by with ease. "Shush now," she told the animals, and slipped around the back of the main Hirondelle tent.

The area around the tent was full of activity as various acts got ready to go on, herded by a stage manager. Marie spotted the familiar animal tamer from the afternoon before and resisted the urge to wave - even if he'd been a nice guy, they hadn't met, and there was no need to draw attention to herself. She found a dark spot at the side of the tent, where she could lift up the fabric and slip inside, underneath the audience seating."

"Off you go," Marie said, reaching into the basket to gently tug off all the fuses, then tilting it gently so the animals tumbled out. A few of them gave her uncertain looks, and she had to wave them on their way, but most set out eagerly to explore the mysterious new environment. Marguerite had said it would take three minutes; Marie sighed, sat back against a support beam, and started counting. "One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand..."

Stage One

Tiny cogs clicked into place as Marguerite placed the finishing touches on the stink bombs. Her hands ached from the haste of the fine work, and she suspected that she would have a small rash where some chemical spilled. The animals carried the bombs nicely. Thanks to Marie's clever filching, they looked like a very diverse assortment of miniature pack mules.

Marguerite made once last check of the mechanisms. She would hate for them to release the stench en route, ruining the effect. Once everything met her satisfaction, she looked about her for Marie. Not seeing her anywhere, Marguerite stepped out of the ship.

"Damn girl needs a leash," she said to herself, still not finding her. Not wanting to risk tardiness, Marguerite gathered the animals in the basket again. "Alexandra! Alexandra, dear! Alexandra!" Marguerite called, being quite close to her ship. The fortuneteller poked her head out, looking quite distracted.

"Oh, Marguerite! How are the animals doing?"

"Just fine, and they are ready for tonight's alternative show. Speaking of which, have you seen Marie?"

"I'm afraid not. I thought she was with you."

"Damn it all," Marguerite said. She marched off with the animals in tow, leaving Alexandra looking quite confused for a moment before she too returned to her business.

Where would an acrobatic teenager be right before a minor bombing of a rival circus? Marguerite saw the early crowds for side shows, the callers already barking out the attractions. The setting sun had long finished illuminating the first clouds of the circus's namesake. Engines hummed, forming a steady river of light smoke and steam around the circus encampment. The lights were lit, and by night the ring of performers and performances seemed to glow, simultaneously hidden by the mysterious fog of the Vapeur. Marguerite needed to find Marie before the clouds settled any more. Otherwise she would be near impossible to locate.

"Marguerite!" Marie called from behind. "I'm here!"

"Finally! I thought you were still with the animals until I went to fasten the contraptions to them. Here," she said, passing the basket to Marie. "The fuses are sticking out of the tops of each bag. You don't need to light them. In fact, do not even think of lighting them. If you do, I will consider your body forfeit in replacement of those of my menagerie."

Marie seemed to turn a variety of very interesting colors, but otherwise maintained a brave face. If Marguerite were more of a biologist, she would have loved to record the fine array and what each corresponded with. Instead, she resumed her instructions.

"Pull the fuses from the bags. You will have roughly three minutes before the reaction reaches its peak, at which point the animals should be well established in the crowds. To get them back to you, open this jar here," Marguerite pointed to a small stone jar plugged with cork. "They will know the smell over the rest and come back to you."

Marie looked as though she were about to sniff the contents of the jar, thought better of it, and instead asked, nose wrinkled, "They'll be able to smell over those bombs?"

"Hopefully. Otherwise you get to find them before they are trampled," Marguerite said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I will meet you just outside our ring of ships, next to the main entrance. Now go. I believe the rest of our merry bunch should be just about ready."

Marie nodded. While she dashed off to plant the animals, Marguerite decided that baskets were inescapably awkward.

The crowds grew steadily as the night continued. Marguerite wandered the circus, much as she had done in her early days with them. Few of the shows had changed, but the ones that had had done so drastically. One even let patrons play games for prizes. Marguerite thought the concept quite silly, then wondered if perhaps she could convince patrons that her animals knew tricks. If they could command them properly, they could win a prize. Otherwise they could just walk away in frustration with their money in her pocket.

If the animals came back unharmed, anyhow. Despite herself, Marguerite sighed. It was going to be a long night.

The Show Must Go On: The Plotting Begins

Alexandra carefully wound her way through the crowd waiting in line to get good seats for the evening circus show. Keeping the growing crowd entertained were small side stages and booths where circus hands and performers could sell food or wares to the crowd.

However, once she rounded the corner of the main tent the only people visible were stage hands and performers getting ready for the evening. The fortune teller was thinking over her conversation with Christophe as she walked and didn’t notice where she was going until she tripped over a large tent stake that was sticking out of the ground. Frantically throwing her arms out for balance, Alexandra tried to fall as gracefully as she could until she felt herself caught by two strong hands around her waist which pulled her upright. Turning, the fortune teller expected to see one of the stage hands who would gently tease her that she should get her mind out of the stars and concentrate on walking. Instead, Alexandra found herself face to face with Asmodeus, looking charming in his waistcoat and top hat. He lifted the goggles onto his forehead and winked at her, a devilish grin playing about his lips. “You should watch where you’re going, my dear, I might not be there to catch you next time.”

Alexandra lifted her chin as she straightened the shawl around her shoulders. “I’m not made out of china, you know, a fall wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“Well aware; just don’t want you to get a black eye or split lip. It wouldn’t set the right tone for our performance.” Asmodeus said as he picked his cane up from the grass where he dropped it, plucking a bright orange daylily from seemingly nowhere.

“Our performance?” Alexandra asked, blatantly ignoring the token.

“Yes. We’re going to a show tonight.”

“Honestly, Asmodeus, if this is a ploy to get under my skirt, it isn’t a very good one.”

“On the contrary; I’ve come up with a rather ingenious plan to chase Hirondelle out of Orleans.”

“Oh really? And what, pray tell, does this plan involve?” Alexandra looked scathingly at him; while Asmodeus’ schemes usually worked out quite successfully, he had quite a few spectacular failures as well. And Alexandra did not want to be a part of a scheme that crashed and burned.

“You see,” Asmodeus began, gesticulating feverishly, “the plan’ll work like this: Marguerite will devise a hellish stink that her loyal creatures and Marie can place strategically in the tent of Hirondelle. Each will be on a timer to go off exactly at the same time, filling the tent with an unearthly stench that will drive the crowds out into the open fields for a breath of fresh air. Meanwhile, I will be in said field posing as a prosperous gentleman of some wealth talking with his lovely wife: you.” At which Asmodeus cracked a wicked smile. “As the crowds leave the tent, we will talk a little too loudly about how in light of Hirondelle’s tragic accident before the show Vapeur will be honoring the Hirondelle’s tickets as half off Vapeur’s tickets. Making it only one shilling per person instead of two.”

“Hmm…” Alexandra pondered the proposal. She knew it was tame compared to some of his other schemes but it would mean pretending to romance Asmodeus in public. However, crazy as it sounds, it might just work. “Very well,” The fortune teller finally agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Asmodeus’ face lit up in a devilish grin; he had won this round with his lovely rival. The magician made an elaborate bow and caught her hand, kissing it quickly before she could pull away. “Then I will meet you tonight, my darling wife, at 7pm sharp in front of your ship. And make sure to wear something charming.”

With a resigned sigh, Alexandra withdrew her hand from Asmodeus’ and nodded in agreement. “For once, I agree with you. Vapeur’s fortune teller is too obvious of a character to be seen at Hirondelle. I’ll see you in an hour.” She turned, and began walking briskly back to her ship.

Once Alexandra had rounded the corner and was out of sight, Asmodeus tossed his cane triumphantly in the air and caught it as he threw his head back and laughed at the success of the first stage of his genius plan.

The show must go on

Colette braced her hands against her dressing table, safe within the narrow confines of her own cabin once more. She probably could have afforded a larger ship, but she liked the small space, the embrace of worn wood surrounding her and dulling the noise of the outside world. She stared at her reflection in the dusty mirror. "Showtime," she whispered to herself, beginning her preparations for another night. Bold makeup was expertly applied to emphasize her eyes and catch the audience's attention. She pulled her hair smoothly back so that it could hide under her gleaming top hat, she wiped her palms nervously and downed a small glass of an angry liquor, settled her nerves. All traces of anxiety or confusion had to be smoothed away before she exited this little cabin. She had to be ready to take the reigns of the little show and drive it through the next few grueling hours without any mishaps.

The competition in town may have thinned the crowds a little, but the story of the explosion--being spread through town by little Marie at this very moment, if she guessed correctly--would bring in a wave of would-be witnesses to another spectacle. "Tempting Fate," was one of the circus world's claims to fame, and it was certain that in this bustling town, half their audience tonight would be hoping to see some trapeze artist fall, some animal attack, some area of the camp ground bloom with flames. It would be entertaining, more so than a typical circus. She wanted to feed the increased enthusiasm for danger without actually putting her cast in more danger than could be avoided. Even typical shows had their death-defying elements, and tonight's would have to push the limits if they wanted to impress the crowd and intimidate Jacque in the same night. There were a few roustabouts right now constructing a few impressive fiery displays, a sort of homage to the burning wreckage that had been cleared from the camp grounds only hours earlier. Tonight should get the town talking, to say the very least.

There were wheels in motion, turning and spinning and bringing all recent events to one spectacular conclusion--if luck would have it. Colette felt that luck had not been on her side in a while. She reached out, brushed a thumb over a short note that was stuck into the frame of the mirror. "Thanks--love you, A." She'd done her brother some favour as a young girl, had woken to find the note wrapped around a small coin and a wilted flower. She'd kept it, of course, as girls often keep tokens from those they admire. After his death, she'd started holding onto ever scrap of cloth he'd worn or even touched. Her favourite red jacket had been his, and she'd had it tailored to suit her new job.

Tailor... Colette paused in her ministrations. The Vapeur's resident seamstress had a knack for acutely accurate perceptions of events both present and past, when the mood struck her and the cards favoured her. Colette's brow wrinkled in thought. No reason not to look a little ahead, yes? Just to make sure that everyone would be safe. Jacque was a murderous cad, yes? She had to protect her circus, yes? And what better way than to strike first?

"After all," she told her reflection innocently. "I know we don't want to let this prank war escalate. Why not deal the final blow now, instead of dragging it out?" Her reflection stared back agreeably. Colette drummed her fingers on the scratched wooden surface. "It wouldn't be difficult, would it? If a stink bomb can be smuggled into the ring--as is being tested now--why not a poison? And, if not the ring--too many casualties, too much attention (not that they're innocent)--then why not someone's quarters? Oh, I don't know. Jacque's. For example." Her reflection merely stared.

Colette inspected her nails. "If the bomb succeeds tonight, we'll pay our merry seamstress a visit. See if an unfortunate accident just so happens to lie in the Hirondelle's future." She picked up her top hat and tucked it under her arm, coiling her whip in one hand as the liquor snaked through her veins, finally calming her and quieting her nagging doubts. "Just as a precaution, of course. No need to do anything rash."

"Of course," agreed the mirror's face. "That would be absurd."

Exit Ringmaster.