Sneaky Sneaky

Marie had raced to help as the fire had raged, getting buckets and taking a spot at the end of the line filling them from the camp's water pump. But as soon as she was no longer needed, the burned balloon having been reduced to a charred, soggy pile, she slipped away.

Her beautiful favorite skirt was waterlogged and muddy, and she longed to just strip it off and run around in her bloomers, but there were interesting things afoot and no time to go get cleaned up. She saw Alexandra sweep up her cards, wishing she could hear what they'd said; When Colette announced it to the group, Marie gasped. She was hardly naive enough to be surprised at sabotage, but she'd have preferred friendly competition with the cute acrobats, rather than fiery destruction. She mostly ignored the rest of Colette's speech, knotting her damp skirt up around her knees as checking to see that the knife she wore tucked in her garter was still there when the ringmaster mentioned not going out unarmed.

By the time she'd accomplished this, Colette had finished addressing the circus and was speaking to Asmondeus, close enough for Marie to eavesdrop, bringing her attention back immediately as she listened.

Consorting with the Enemy

The flames had flickered out, and the column of thick smoke was beginning to thin. Colette turned, feeling flecks of ash dot her arms like warm snowflakes. Her crew and family were bustling around, and already the damage was being slowly cleaned up. That whole ship was a wreckage, but a few items here and there poked through the ash and rubble. "Can anything be saved? Anything?" She bit her lip, hands itching to wrap around her whip and find the twins, give them a sound lashing.

Colette touched Alexandra's shoulder lightly before heading over to the bucket crew and addressing the small worried-looking gathering. "My friends," she began, "This was no accident. However, we shall not leave Orleans ahead of schedule. The Hirondelle is a pest, that is all. The other night, some members of our crew encountered some members of theirs, and certain words were exchanged. Today, we see the result of my--and I take full responsibility--indiscretion." Colette cast a glance at Asmodeous, and she paused at his meaningful, yet silent expression. "Our family is stronger in our own camp, when we can support each other. One man alone is too easily silenced. Please... be careful. Don't venture out alone or unarmed." Colette frowned, not knowing how much to say. "I know the man responsible for la Hirondelle and he is ruthless. He abides by no code of honour." She swallowed. "We have to beat him at his own game. And that means in the rings. Not out here, not like this. Tonight, we'll put on a show la Hirondelle could never hope to rival." Unable to think of a dignified way to end her impromptu speech, she let her hands drop, and added. "Someone establish a guard rotation to secure the camp perimeter. Check in with me when it's finalized." Stepping away from the little crowd, she motioned to the man who had first worked to stifle the flames.

"Asmodeus! A word, if you will." The magician had smears of black ash on his fingers and cheeks, and he looked less placated by her words than most of the crew. "Asmodeus..." She spoke quieter now, a bit of her bravado fading. "I'm not sure that I can do it." She crossed her arms more tightly, feeling a chill even in the warm, acrid-scented air. "I don't know how to win against a man who fights so unfairly."

Boom

The sun was shining through the open windows of the magician’s cabin, resting amidst the swaying grasses of the field in which la Vapeur had anchored. It was shaped as a sailing ship of old, with a fanciful, and quite anatomically accurate, representation of a mermaid heading the prow. Masts were replaced by metal smokestacks, and the rigging led to the large black balloon shifting lazily in the breeze above. There were carved wooden railings along the length of the deck, leading to the stern cabin, the captain’s quarters, with paned windows edged in gilt-worked metal. Asmodeus had established this room as his bedroom. Presently, he was hunched over a worktable bolted to the center of the cabin, preparing for the night’s performance. He was clad in his waistcoat and wingtip-collared shirt, the sleeves of which he had rolled up to avoid any unnecessary staining. His performing coat was draped casually across the back of his armchair. In his hands were pliers and a probe, and his face twisted with concentration as he gazed through his loupe, his hands moving with deft precision as he tightened bolts and tested springs. The task seemed more difficult this day, as his thoughts continually strayed to the night before. So there’s another circus what set down ‘ere, he mused. Nothin’ like this’d ever happen back home. Anyone tried pinching customers, the boys’d go rough ‘em a bit. Actually, s’not so bad an idea.

With a grin, Asmodeus conjured the image of his knife protruding from the chest of that insolent bird of a man. To think that someone would have the gall to dress so tacky, upset a fellow performer, and prematurely end Asmodeus’ delightful evening with Alexandra was wholly bewildering; especially the social interruption part. Asmodeus felt he was really getting somewhere with her that evening.

It was in the middle of this combined tinkering and daydreaming that an acrid smell assaulted Asmodeus’ nostrils. It was not any of his chemicals; certainly was not the grease. A tendril of light, wispy smoke had begun to curl its way through his open casement. Tearing the lenses from his face, he jumped from his chair and dashed to the window, in time to see two familiar figures slinking away from Marguerite’s balloon as fast as possible. There was, however, no time to pursue his initial, violent train of thought, for he could see that Marguerite’s balloon had caught fire, and the cabin was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Taking the stairs to the main deck three at a time, Asmodeus swung down from his ship and hit the ground in a flat-out run. Seeing other members of the crew coming to investigate, Asmoudeus shouted to them. “Marie, go fetch the buckets. You there, form a line.” He would have to report what he saw to Colette, but he hoped she would uphold the old ways of dealing with messengers.

Consorting with the Enemy: Revenge

Colette softened immediately, reaching out to touch the fortune teller's arm with gratitude. "Alexandra, I thank you. I..." She let out a shaky breath. "I think I may have made a mistake today. In seeing the Hirondelle perform, I left my own family unprotected." She shook her head. "I don't even know if what I found out was worth it."

She stepped away, crossing her arms. "The damage. We're lucky it was only the one ship--though there's no telling how many of Marguerite's little beasts were harmed." She frowned unhappily, feeling the weight of the ship's destruction heavy on her shoulders. If only she had been here to stop the twins. Sneaky, devious bastards. She wouldn't be surprised if they were acting on orders of the Hirondelle's ringmaster. He was a vindictive man, quick to anger and even quicker to vengeance.

She turned to the seer again, feeling at a loss. "Can you do a reading for me? I have some questions that have been unanswered for far too long." Her heart was leaping in her chest, and she rubbed her palms over her bare, jacketless arms, feeling bare without her flashy costume. She had faith in the cards, if not in herself.

Sketches for Colette!

Sketches of possible costumes for Colette.

Both drawn on templates: the first two from The Costumer's Manefesto and the second two from an unknown template I found buried in the depths of my computer (personally, I prefer the second template as it was easier to work with).

Consorting with the Enemy: Destruction

The smell of smoke slowly crept into the elaborate blue and silver tent to mingle with the sweet incense that was burning there. Alexandra looked up from boiling a kettle of water on a small stove that she used to make tea for the next client who wanted their future read in tea leaves. She paused, lifting her head in curiosity at the strange smell and pulling back the curtain to peer out at the rest of the circus. When Alexandra saw the smoke she leapt out of her chair, almost overturning the table, and raced to the balloon that was in flames.

"Marguerite!" Alexandra cried when she saw her friend covered in soot and staggering away from the burning balloon, "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."

The fortune teller helped Marguerite slowly rise to her feet and lead her friend to the storage vessel and found a bunch of old lidded baskets and boxes to hold the animals. When they had safely rescued the last one out of the pockets of the lab coat, Alexandra handed her friend one of the many scarves attached to her person. As Marguerite used it to wipe the sweat out of her eyes and the soot and ash off her face, “What happened?” Alexandra asked as she watched the smoke continue to rise from the wreckage.

“I don’t know. I was inside my room taking care of the animals but they were restless and hard to handle. Then the room shook and the ceiling caught fire and all I was concerned about was saving all the animals.” Marguerite sank slowly onto a heavy crate.

Alexandra placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Rest here for a moment and then make yourself at home in my ship. Also, I have a kettle of freshly boiled water in my fortune telling tent if you would like to make tea; your favorite is in the light green canister on the second shelf.” Her blue eyes took on a steely glint, “I’m going to go find out who did this.”

With one last squeeze to her friend’s shoulder, Alexandra turned and headed back towards the wreckage. The fire was under control but Marguerite’s room and balloon had been reduced to smoldering wreckage. She saw Asmodeus and Marie in a chain of circus workers passing buckets to put out the last embers of the fire. The rest of the circus crew was checking the nearby balloons that had been singed and were making sure sparks hadn’t spread to any other vessels.

Alexandra walked to a clearing a short distance away from Marguerite’s ship and crouched in the grass. She spread out one of her scarves onto the ground and pulled from within her dress a piquet deck, a stack of 32 handmade cards that she used in fortune telling, encased in a velvet bag. After shuffling the deck, Alexandra laid out five cards, one in each cardinal direction and one card in the center. She slowly flipped them over going counter clockwise: a reversed knave of diamonds, a seven of spades, a reversed king of spades, a nine of spades and finally an ace of spades. Alexandra frowned; the appearance of so many spades was an ill omen. The message she read from the spread of cards was not a good one, either. It spoke of a quarrel with two men of evil intentions, destruction, sabotage and an old rivalry.

Alexandra frowned; if she interpreted the cards properly then the destruction of Marguerite’s room was deliberately sabotaged by a pair of twins who not only had their own motivations but also a greater approval. She could think of only one such pair that wanted revenge on the Cirque de la Vapeur, especially after Asmodeus’ confrontation and foolish threats to them.

With a quick motion, Alexandra quickly swept up the cards that she had placed on the scarf and made her way to where Colette was directing the cleanup of the wreckage. She touched the ringmaster’s shoulder and drew her aside. “Colette, my cards tell me that the twins from the Cirque de la Hirondelle are the ones responsible for this.”

Alexandra knew that some did not believe in the power of the cards but she found them reliable for divinations of the past and present; although the future was too variable for the cards to chart accurately.

Colette, however, had always trusted her readings and her eyes widened with anger at the news. “They would dare come within our camp and try to harm a member of our family! They will pay for this!”

The fortune teller took a step back at the venom in her friend’s voice. Alexandra had seen her like this before and knew that things were not going to end well tonight.

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.