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“You didn’t expect Harry Houdini to sit back, content with wearing one crown, did you?” Mephistopheles narrowed his dark eyes as if I might have honestly hit my head on something. “Why simply be good when you can be great? If he’s going to claim the name ‘the Great Houdini,’ he’d better put on a show to match. People don’t remember mediocre shows. To trul
y win the minds and memories of the audience, greatness is needed. That’s what turns stories into legends and builds empires.”
“Finding new ways of barely escaping with one’s life isn’t greatness. It’s foolhardy and dangerous,” I said. “Involving someone else in such stupidity is reckless and ought to be a criminal offense. If anything happens to my cousin, it will be his fault. Then he’ll discover that kings fall like anyone else.”
“Ah. I must disagree with you on one thing. Greatness lies in being driven, in not settling simply because you’ve reached one goal. It’s a state of perpetual climbing and striving to best yourself. He will be the Great Houdini one day because he worked to earn that title, doing one impossible task after the other, never settling for simply being good.”
“Seems he doesn’t enjoy being content with what he’s accomplished.”
“Contentment is the root of complacency. Your cousin chooses to follow him because he is not content to sit back and be just mediocre. Does ‘the Good Houdini’ or ‘the Adequate Houdini’ have the same ring to it?” He shook his head. “I think not. Just like a good tailcoat is not as eye-catching as a great one.”
“Is that why you abandoned your family name?” I asked, fishing. “You weren’t all right with living in contentment and luxury—it was just good, not great.”
Mephistopheles turned his attention on the well-dressed men and women walking through the carnival stalls on the promenade. There were far fewer of them, and they appeared to have lost that earlier glamour. “Why live in a cage when you can make a show of escaping from it?”
“I—”
“Tell me that life doesn’t sound appealing to you.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Mephistopheles gave me another knowing look, but didn’t press the issue.
“Shall we go check on Liza and Harry?” He pulled a pocket watch out, swinging it back and forth as if he hoped to hypnotize me from prying into his past. “In a few minutes the curtain will drop for the public, but the private show will begin.”
I glanced at the thinning crowd, hoping I’d spy one tall gentleman in particular. One to whom I’d reconcile all this as soon as I could. Unlike the wonder-worker before me, Thomas seemed to have disappeared for good this evening. I gave up searching and let go. I’d see him soon enough when we investigated the lion’s cage.
A star shot across the sky and I prayed it wasn’t a sign of how fleeting love or friendship could be.
Eerie silence greeted us in the dining saloon now that the Moonlight Carnival had taken its leave of the night. My cousin and her dashing escape artist beau huddled together onstage, their heads bent in whispered conversation. My steps faltered as I watched them work out the details of the act. There was no doubt that conspiring against Liza was treacherous, conniving behavior, and I was the ringleader of the sideshow of my own creating. I hoped she’d forgive me once all was said and done. Though I wasn’t sure how long it would take to forgive myself.
Houdini’s affections might be an illusion, but she seemed perfectly content with the act.
Mephistopheles whistled to Houdini, lifting a hand in greeting. A look flashed between the two young men—there and gone too fast to decipher its meaning. Perhaps it was simply a warning from the ringmaster to not fail at this new and dangerous stunt. With women murdered almost every night and the discovery of the severed arm, his carnival was teetering on a tightrope of its own. One slip and the entire life Mephistopheles had constructed for himself would be gone.
Liza smiled and hopped off the stage, dashing up to my side in a way that made me feel all the more terrible for going behind her back.
“Cousin! What a lovely surprise.” She kissed both my cheeks and gathered me into the sort of hug that lifts a person’s spirits as much as their feet from the ground. “I wasn’t expecting you out so late. Is Mr. Cresswell coming along, too?”
“He’s off brooding,” Mephistopheles said as he moved toward the stage. “He’s jealous of my suit. Not everyone can get away with decadent patterns and silver fringe.”
She craned her neck around, searching the dark shadows of the saloon as if not believing the ringmaster. I shook my head. “He wasn’t feeling quite himself and went to bed. We’ve had a bit of an intense evening.”
“Oh.”
Liza subtly flicked her attention between myself and Mephistopheles. I could see questions brewing behind her gaze and knew I’d have much to answer for once we were alone. She blinked and the suspicion disappeared. Liza read the living as well as I read the dead.
“I’m sorry he’ll miss this”—she motioned to the stage—“but I’m sure he’ll be charmed tomorrow evening when he sees it. It’s truly magical—I swear there are forces at hand here, guiding Harry in an otherworldly way.”
I released a breath, relieved to have the conversation shift to Houdini. Captain Norwood had made it quite clear that we weren’t to discuss the severed limb, and even though I trusted my cousin, I didn’t want to burden her. “You know magic is simply the union of science and trickery. It’s just dressed-up lies.”
“And there ain’t no such thing as ghosts!” Harry called from the stage. “Spiritualism is a hoax.”
“So you keep telling me. Again and again.” Liza sighed in the way of the long-suffering and looped her arm through mine, leaning in as to not be overheard by the escape artist. “But it’s also fun. Being caught up in make-believe is grand and romantic and you cannot honestly say you aren’t a little intrigued by the impossibility of it all. Hope is the true magic—it’s the spark and draw. I know ghosts aren’t real, but should I ever wish to speak to a loved one who’s no longer here, I hope they are.”
“Hope is a strong force,” I agreed.
“Indeed. I swear I’d clutch that feeling like a tether, never letting go. Same for every one of these acts. The crowd hopes for the impossible to become possible. It shows them dreams don’t belong only in our heads—with hope those fantasies can become real. Taking hope away is like taking life from someone. We all need to believe we can achieve the impossible.”
I felt a smile coming on. It was a good thing Liza had so much hope; she certainly needed to hope Uncle didn’t discover she was the second young woman to disobey him this evening, else we were both doomed. “You’re not planning on actually assisting Harry onstage tomorrow, are you?”
