“I’ll tell you their secret in exchange for another of yours.”

I huffed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“Fair is fair.”

“I don’t have any more secrets to give you.”

“Then I guess you’re out of luck.”

I folded my arms over my chest and frowned. We stood in silence as the unicorn cantered by, Genevieve erect on her back, spine straight, chin raised, shoulders thrown back. Carefully, she adjusted her footing and executed a pirouette. Her balance shifted, and her arms cartwheeled as she struggled to maintain her position. My heart lurched in anticipation of her fall, but she recovered her equilibrium.

Falak turned, giving his full attention to me. “The princess’s performance has given me further inspiration.”

A cold current stirred in my stomach. I sidestepped, not realizing I’d moved away from him, an unconscious reaction to a sudden urge to flee, to escape his wry grin and all it implied. “I’m afraid to ask.”

He crooked his finger in a beckoning gesture. “Come. I’ll explain it to you.”

“Why?”

“This involves you.”

Falak strode away from the riding ring and the torches surrounding it. Evening shadows swallowed him, and still I stood in place, wary and hesitant. “Are you coming?” he called from the darkness.

“Do I have a choice?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he answered. “Not really. No.”

I squared my shoulders and followed him into the night. We stopped beside one of the huge menagerie wagons, and after opening a side door, he held his arms out wide in an affected gesture of someone used to having all eyes upon him. “Sher-sah. Come.”

I gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Trust me.”

Something shifted in the gloom beyond the wagon door. A floorboard creaked. The click-clack of metallic claws tapping across the floor echoed through the interior. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck. “Trust you? Maybe. Trust the lion? How can I? I watched him nearly maul you less than a week ago.”

“That was a mistake.”

“Forgive me if I’d rather not be around to witness his next one.”

Ambient light from the distant torches illuminated Sher-sah’s head as it emerged from the doorway. Something whirred, and a low rumble vibrated through the air—like the purring of a cat, but so much deeper and more resonant. I felt it in my chest—it vibrated against my ribs.

“He’s....” My words faded as I searched for a term that encompassed both my awe and terror.

Falak shoved his hands in his pockets and crooked his neck. “Beautiful?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...yes. He’s terrifying, but he’s also an amazing work of art. He should be on display in one of the great museums in Prigha or Pecia, except I’m sure he’d scare all the patrons away.”

My companion chuckled. “He’s old enough to be a museum relic.”

“Really?”

“Well, parts of him.”

I arched my eyebrows, but either it was too dark, or Falak was ignoring my questioning expression. “So,” I said. “I’m a little afraid to ask, but why did you bring me here?”

“I told you before that I’ve always wanted to make the animals a larger part of the show.” He stepped closer to the wagon and raised a hand. Sher-sah snuffled the ringmaster’s empty palm. He lowered his head, and Falak stroked the cat’s big brass jaw. The low rumbling sound rolled through the air again—a subtle expression of feline pleasure. “People enjoy the experience of seeing the animals up close, but so long as they’re relegated to the menagerie tent, they waste so much potential.”

“Why now?”

“Why now what?”

I pointed at the lion working his head against Falak’s hand, demanding more attention. “Why haven’t you thought of this before, making the animals a part of the show. It seems kind of obvious, don’t you think?”

He harrumphed. “I didn’t have the performers to spare. The aerialist and the tightrope walker have their unique talents. They think.... Well, they think animal tricks are beneath them. Everyone has a specialized routine and all are highly skilled. None of them have the inclination to change their performance, and I don’t force the issue because I can’t afford to lose them. This circus has attracted some of the best, and I plan to keep it that way.”

A vague idea itched in my mind like a loose hair in my shirt collar—it was an inclination of what Falak had brought me here to tell me, and I was dreading it. “But now you have the princess.”

“And you.” He raised his hands and gestured to the invisible crowd behind me. “Presenting Evelyn Stormbourne—lion tamer extraordinaire! We’ll have to change your name, of course. Evelyn has no glamour. Plus, I suppose you’ll want to keep your identity secret.”

I gaped at him, lost for words.

He raised a hand, flat palm facing me. “Don’t say anything, yet.”

“What could I say? Would you even listen if I said no?”

He barked a sharp laugh. “Of course not.”

“I wash the dishes and do the mending. That was our agreement.”

“I reserve the right to amend all agreements.”

I stomped my heel. “What? Why?”

“Because”—he slipped a thumb under a suspender strap—“I’m the ringmaster, and what I say goes. Ask anyone around here.”

My mind reeled, searching for a proper argument, but I suspected nothing I said would change his mind. “This is insane.”

He let go of his suspender with a pop. “This is show business.” Ignoring my scowl, he locked his long fingers around my shoulder and dragged me forward. “Come, let Sher-sah get the scent of you.”

“Get the scent...?” The beast turned his massive head, and the distant torchlight glimmered on the fringe of his mane—copper and brass blades like stalks of metallic grass formed a wreath around his big, beastly head. He huffed and, although it baffled me, warm breath whisked past my face, stirring the fine hairs around my temple. “How in the Shadowlands does he do that?”

“What?”

“Breathe?”

Falak shrugged. “Svieta is a master engineer and mechanic.”

“Master something all right,” I muttered. Tentatively I held my hand out for Sher-sha’s inspection. He snuffled my palm in the same way he’d snuffled the ringmaster’s. Having found me acceptable, he lowered his head and my fingers grazed his chin. As with the unicorn, he was surprisingly warm, as though blood ran through him rather than gears and oil and whatever enchantment that had brought him to life.