“Svieta should be teaching at universities,” Falak said, “or working in laboratories funded by rich people looking to get richer by discovering the greatest new inventions.”

“But instead she’s here, working for you. Funny that.” Gathering my courage, I stepped closer and placed both hands on either side of Sher-sah’s face, stroking his wide, flat cheeks. The subtle rumbling noise he emitted vibrated through me, and my fear faded. In its place, something warm flared to life, but I couldn’t quite name the sensation. “Wonder why that is—why someone with Svieta’s skills would be content to ply her trade in a travelling circus.”

“Who said she was content?”

“Seems like it to me.”

Falak snorted. “You don’t know her like I do.”

What could I say? He was right. I knew no one in the circus beyond the princess and Falak. My relationship with Gepennio and Z’arta couldn’t really count as anything but a brief and casual acquaintance. It’s not as though they’d shared personal details other than the ones I’d gleaned from observation: Gepennio made ket tea when he was feeling sentimental, and Z’arta avoided me as though I carried a foul disease and might give it to her if she spent more than a few minutes in my presence. Perhaps it’s time I made a few friends.

“Looks like you two are getting along.” Falak inclined his head toward the lion. “I want you to start training together as soon as possible.”

“Training? What does that entail? Shall I stick my head in his mouth?”

He pointed at the riding ring where Genevieve and the unicorn were still practicing. As I watched, she executed another pirouette—this one nearly flawless. “Meet me there tomorrow night and I’ll show you.” He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders again and flashed me a mocking grin. “See if you can find something a little more stage worthy to wear.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Falak jabbed a finger at the lion. “Sher-sah, guard!” The ringmaster threw his head back and walked away.

I huffed at the lion still nuzzling my hands, urging me to continue petting him. “Do you know what he’s getting us into?” The lion ignored my question, and I sighed. “Just promise not to eat me, okay?”

Sher-sah rumbled his low purring sound again, and I hoped that meant he’d agreed.

Later, after Genevieve and I’d tucked ourselves into our beds for the night, I stared at the costume wagon’s curved ceiling. My imagination invented images of me standing in the center ring of the main circus tent in a sparkling waistcoat and velveteen knickers. Sher-sah perched on a platform beside me, pawing the air and roaring loud enough to shake the stands. He opened his huge mouth, and I shoved my head between his metallic fangs. The crowd gasped.

I snorted.

“What is it?” Genevieve asked.

“Falak is ridiculous.”

“He is, but I have to take his side on this. You’d make a fabulous lion tamer.”

“How do you know?”

“Tereza called me maličká lev sometimes. Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“Little lion.”

I chuckled. “Appropriate.”

The silence grew between us until I was certain she’d dozed off, but I rolled onto my side and peered at the spot where I thought her face might be, although, in the darkness of the wagon, it was impossible to tell. “Do you know other languages besides Inselgrish?”

The princess’s covers rustled, and she snuffled a sleepy reply. “Of course.”

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

“All?”

“All the major languages of the western continent. Gallandic, Dreutchish, Vinitzian, Espiritolish...”

Jealousy flared and faded like a spark from a flint. “I should have been taught. My father spoiled me too much.”

She snorted. “Perhaps. But why do you ask?”

“I want to talk to some of the other members of the circus tomorrow, but it seems none of them speak Inselgrish, or if they do, they’re playing ignorant. I was hoping you could translate for me.”

She paused, obviously considering my request. “You do my dish duty tomorrow and give me your dinner roll.”

I groaned, but even if she’d asked me to do her chores for a week, I would’ve accepted. Not that she needed to know that. “Deal.”

Another moment of silence passed. Then she asked, “So, are you going to do it?”

“What? The lion tamer thing?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t really leave me a choice.”

“You sure you’re not just a little bit excited?”

I turned over, giving her my back and hiding my smile in case some wayward moonbeam through the wagon’s window gave me away. “Go to sleep, princess.”

She exhaled a long, petulant breath. “’Night, Evie.”

“Good night, Genevieve.”

Chapter 15

After gathering our supper trays from Gepennio’s wagon, Genevieve and I headed for the wagon circle’s interior. “We’ve got to hurry,” I said, searching the crowd for one particular individual. “Falak or one of his minions will come for us soon.”

“Who are you looking for?”

Having spotted the subject of my query, I inclined my head in her direction. “Her.”

Genevieve squeaked. “The snake charmer? Why?”

“Because I have questions about the animals, and she’s the only member of this circus who uses one of Svieta’s creatures in her act.”

“Why don’t you go straight to the source and ask Svieta?”

“First of all, neither of us speak Svieta’s language. You know a lot, princess, but even you don’t understand a word she says. Talking to her would require involving another person, and I’m not willing to do that, yet. Secondly, Falak behaves as though the foundation of the animals’ abilities is a secret. If that’s true, then it’s Svieta’s secret, too, and she’s probably even less inclined to tell us than Falak would be.”

“Why such a burning need to know?”