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“He’s not here,” Liza added, brow raised. “He spends his time locked away in a cabin working on his mechanical inventions.”
“Oh.” I turned my attention on Cassiopeia. She somersaulted from one trapeze to another, rolling gracefully through the air as if she were a comet. Her hair fell in long platinum layers, adding to her etherealness. She was stunning. I watched the other aerial performers tumble down ropes, then swing back up them. It appeared as if gravity was under their spell as much as I was. “How do they manipulate the ropes and silks?”
“Body weight and lots of practice. Don’t let their small statures fool you,” Liza added. “They’re stronger than most men.”
A man in a black-and-white-striped leotard brought his arm round his head, laying it flat over his shoulder. I froze, heart pounding, as I took in the mechanics of it.
“He’s dislocated his shoulder joint!” I whispered to Liza. The contortionist did the same move on the opposite side, then sank down, turning himself into a pretzel. My lip curled involuntarily. “That cannot be good for his health. The wear and tear on his ligaments…”
I glanced at a bemused Liza, shaking her head. “That’s Sebastián Cruz. His performances are quite popular.” She leaned close. “I’ve heard he’s put his talent to good use, hiding in trunks when unsuspecting husbands come home.”
I lightly slapped her arm. “That’s horrible.”
“Horribly scandalous.” Liza grinned. “Rumors claim he’s gotten into some trouble on the ship. That’s why he’s called the Hierophant—he must be favored by God to get out of such unholy predicaments all the time.”
I stared at him a few moments longer, mesmerized by the way he folded his body up. A thought struck me. “Where is your Houdini?”
“Likely off with Mephistopheles.” Liza sighed. “The two of them are always putting their heads together, coming up with some new way to dazzle an audience. I’ll fetch you to meet him tonight after the show.”
Unless there was another murder. Then I’d be meeting a corpse. The thought broke the wonderment of the carnival’s practice session. Now as I glanced around, the performers all made my skin crawl like grave worms. Even without an audience they all wore masks, hiding from both the world and one another. A large board with concentric circles was set up at one end, firecrackers shooting out as it spun in place. Jian Yu threw blades one after the other into the center of the target, the last dagger sinking into the hilt of the blade before it. Chills slid under my silk.
“Who’s the man with Jian?” I asked, watching him remove the daggers and stagger back. “Is he an assistant?”
“Goodness no. That’s Andreas the Fool.”
I snorted. “I would have imagined that to be Mephistopheles’s stage name.”
“Honestly, Cousin. Mephistopheles is not half as bad as you make him out to be. He’s the Magician, naturally. And he’s one of the best I’ve ever seen. Harry admires him and is constantly yammering on over his brilliance. The way he uses science and math is incredibly innovative. If you give him a chance, you might actually like him.”
I kept my eye roll to myself. It seemed as if everyone was convinced the ringmaster could do no wrong. While I was intrigued by his form of science, I did not wish to let on about it. I nodded back at Andreas. “So why is that one called the Fool?”
“He claims to have a magic looking glass that divines one’s romantic future.” She shook her head. “The sad thing is, he actually believes it works. I’ve sat down to a reading, and thus far it hasn’t informed me who my husband will be. All I see is my distorted image and an indecent amount of cobwebs. If anything, it’s downright haunted!”
“Why does Mephistopheles keep him if he’s no good?”
Liza looked at me as if I’d said something particularly dense. “He’s incredible at the spectacle of fortune-telling. His tent is one of the most popular—he lights incense, speaks in a darkly mysterious Bavarian accent. Plus”—she nudged me in the ribs—“he’s quite interesting to look at. Not exactly handsome, but arresting in a way.”
“What about—”
“She shouldn’t be here.” Liza and I both spun around, faced with massive chest-plate armor. I dragged my gaze upward and swallowed hard. Jian turned his glare from me to Liza. “And you still don’t belong here.”
“Don’t be so cross, Jian. It’s unbecoming.” My cousin simply rolled her eyes. “This is not just anyone, this is my cousin, Miss Wadsworth. She’s a lord’s daughter so you ought to show a smidgen of respect.”
He pointed one of his blades at me, hands scarred from practices that must have gone poorly. “You shouldn’t be here, miss.”
Liza’s face turned near scarlet, but before she could explode, I smiled politely. “It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Yu. Impressive knife work, you must practice often.”
His lips curved up in what I imagined was an attempt at a smile but came out more like a sneer. “Sometimes I use moving targets. Keeps things interesting.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Have you ever made any mistakes while using live targets?”
“Once.”
Without elaborating, he marched back to the stationary target board and threw blade after blade into the wood. Andreas jumped back as splinters flew. It took an incredible amount of force to cause that sort of damage—the same sort of strength that was needed to shove seven swords into a corpse and string it up.
“I’m dreadfully sorry about that,” Liza said as we made our way out of the practice ring. “The performers get a little sensitive about outsiders.”
“You’re not an outsider,” I pointed out. “And he wasn’t very pleasant to you.”
