I tapped Sher-sah’s shoulder, and when the lion crouched, I swung myself onto his back. “Just try to stop me.”
“I’m the one who made the promise to protect this circus.”
I snarled at him, even though my heartbeat thundered in my ears and fear, like acid, burned in my veins. “You don’t get to be the only hero, Gideon.”
His eyes widened in obvious dismay. “You’re doing this because you want to be a hero?”
“No, I’m going after them because I swore this circus would come to no harm because of me. I’m going after them because I can, and it’s the right thing to do.” And I was convinced leaving Gideon to watch over the rest of the circus was also the right thing to do, too. I wrapped my hands in the lion’s reins and thumped my heel against his side as Gideon growled an indefinable sound of anger and exasperation. Sher-sah darted around the wagon and sprinted up the roadway, dodging bandits and circus members, including Falak, who waved his pistol overhead as we passed. Relief washed over me. I was glad to see he was still alive and unharmed.
“Where are you going?” he shouted.
I pointed at the crevice up the road. “After the Bianchi children.”
“Good luck,” he said as he turned and fired a shot toward a target on the opposite side of his wagon.
The lion surged ahead, and we left the skirmish behind. Except for the occasional pop of gunfire, the roar of battle faded away. Perhaps I’d acted rashly, going off alone, but knowing Gideon, he’d be fast on my trail once he retrieved his horse. If he caught up with me, I’d welcome his help, but the Bianchi children couldn’t afford hesitation. Their kidnapper’s trail was still warm, and I had to find it before it faded.
When we reached the crevice, Sher-sah’s pace slowed. Steep and narrow rock walls blocked the sunlight, casting deep shadows, and each sound, each footstep reverberated, turning the solitary Sher-sah into an army of invisible lions. If I’d been on my horse, I would’ve reined back, slowing our pace, quieting the horse’s steps so I could listen for the kidnapper’s presence. The lion required no such allowances. He’d downed Genevieve’s abductors without my assistance, and I trusted him to do the same for the Bianchi boy and girl.
I should have learned their names. The acrobats had kept their offspring close and often secluded. Although their faces were familiar, I’d never learned more about them. My own problems had been too immediate and pressing to worry about making the acquaintance of each circus member. I regretted my myopic focus, but listing my shortcomings wouldn’t help Camilla’s grandchildren now.
A far-off wail, so quiet it barely rose above the clamor of Sher-sah’s footsteps, echoed through the narrow canyon. It sounded like the cry of a young child. “Hear that?” I asked.
But the cat had superior hearing and was already running again, racing around each sharp curve with deadly speed. I gritted my teeth and prayed for the strength to hold on a bit longer.
The road widened, the gloom faded, and the improved light revealed a scene so surprising and terrible that my mind scrambled to understand it.
There, in a spot where the pathway was wide enough to encompass the Brigands’ superior numbers, stood one of the highwayman, dismounted from his horse. He clutched two wriggling, crying, frightened children in his arms. At his back stood a dozen-or-so men and women, all bearing weapons, all with the stances and sneering, snarling expressions of vicious fighters. They wore an eclectic mixture of styles and fabrics, fashions and accessories they must have claimed from countless victims.
One of the Brigands, a woman, gave me a fierce grimace, revealing a gold tooth. She wore a black top hat and a pale-green silk tunic over black trousers.
The Kerch herself, I presumed.
She held a pistol, a huge brass thing that looked as though it could take down an elephant. She pointed the gun at me and winked as Sher-sah slowed to a halt. “Nett von Ihnen, uns zu verbinden, Stormbourne.” Nice of you to join us, Stormbourne.
She had spoken in Dreutchish and knew my name. My stomach dropped to my feet. “H-how...?”
She flicked her wrist, jiggling her gun in a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, m’lady,” she clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Le Poing Fermé has told me all about you.”
The contents of my stomach surged up my throat. Breath turned to dust on my tongue. “Wha—” The words lodged in my dry throat. I swallowed and tried again. “What do you know about Le Poing Fermé?”
If I were riding Adaleiz, I would have tugged her reins, encouraging her to step back and put distance between me and the rough-and-tumble group before us. Sher-sah, however, refused a saddle and bridle. Instead, he and I relied on voice cues, gestures, and intuition. Wishing he could read my mind, I patted his neck and tightened my legs around him, signaling him to wait for my lead. I needed him to play along but also prepare for attack. No matter what happened to me, the Bianchis deserved every chance for rescue.
Again, the Kerch gestured with her gun. A black braid threaded with silver hairs trailed over her shoulder. Gold-rimmed spectacles balanced atop her long, thin nose. “You do not get to ask those kinds of questions, m’lady.” Her thick accent made her words difficult to decipher. “You only get to follow orders, and if you are polite about it, I will make certain my troop treat you kindly.”
Her “troop” stared at me, some with anger, some with hunger. None inspired belief in their capacity for kindness. “And if I’m not polite?”
She swung the gun barrel around and aimed it at the children. “These two will pay for your rudeness.”
“What do you want?”
She raised a shoulder and dropped it. “I want you. For the children.”
“Fine. It’s a deal.” No doubts, not a single hesitation entered my thoughts—not because I was noble or brave, but because Le Poing Fermé, and especially Jackie Faercourt, needed me. It was the same need that saved me when he sent Vanessa to Prigha Castle. He had prohibited her from killing me then, and the Kerch must have been similarly forbidden. So long as I remained alive and uninjured, I could find a way to escape. I’d done it before. Surely I could do it again.
As if sensing my surrender, Sher-sah let out a low, soft growl. He stepped back a pace. I patted him again, stroking his shoulder.
The Kerch narrowed her eyes at the lion. “You must call off your beast. Send him away.”
Slowly, I slid from the lion’s back, but kept one hand on his side, over his ribs—or where his ribs should have been if he were flesh and bone. “That may be easier said than done. This beast has a mind of his own, and he’s very protective.”
Sher-sah growled, emphasizing my point. Several Brigands behind the Kerch shifted, shuffling their feet, giving each other uneasy looks. Perhaps they had mistaken me for an easy target—a spoiled, soft, defenseless young woman. Apparently when Le Poing Fermé had scryed my location, they hadn’t realized Sher-sah was part of the bargain.
The Kerch raised her huge pistol and thumbed the hammer. “The lion will not be a problem.”
“Do you think a bullet is enough to stop him?” A hint of humor flavored my words. “He’s mechanical. You can’t kill him.” Because he’s already dead.
“Put enough bullets in the right places, and anything can be brought down.”
Her point was a feasible one, not that she needed to know that. I arched an eyebrow and sneered. “You’re sure about that? You’re sure you can put him down before he puts you down?”
I raised both hands shoulder high, palms forward, fingers splayed in a gesture of surrender. Stepping away from the lion, I made my movements slow and deliberate, both for his sake and the Kerch’s. “I’ll come willingly. No one has to get hurt. Let the children go, and I’ll leave with you in peace.”
She turned to the man holding the Bianchi children and said something in a low, harsh tone. He nodded, lowered onto one knee, and set the children on their feet, but kept them close. Their struggles had eased as fear and uncertainty took over. The little girl held herself rigid, although her eyes were huge and round. The boy, obviously a bit younger than his sister, sniffed as tears streamed down his cheeks. Both had pinned their attention on me.
I slipped forward another step. “Sher-sah, take the children to Camilla. Protect them as if they were your own cubs.”
“Slowly.” The Kerch motioned me forward with a waggle of her gun.
Although I’d made up my mind to give myself up to the Kerch and her Brigands, each step forward fell heavier and heavier as though I were trudging through mud. Gideon’s going to be so, so angry about this. I hadn’t thought of him until that moment, and the fact that he hadn’t already appeared surprised me. When I left the circus train, I’d been certain he would follow as fast as he could.
When only a few yards remained between me and the Thaulgant Brigands, I stopped. “Now, let the children go.”
The Kerch tilted her head and squinted at me. Her glasses magnified her eyes so that she looked almost insectile, like a moth in her green silk tunic. “I think I have changed my mind. I have not gotten this far in life by letting potential profit walk away, and these little darlings could bring me a great deal of income.”
She jerked her head and shouted something in a foreign tongue. Her men responded by hurrying to surround me. They hadn’t gone far when a gunshot from somewhere behind me sent everyone skittering, including the man who had been holding the Bianchi children. He left them standing together as he backed away. Another shot threw up a spurt of dust at the feet of the thief standing closest to me.
Sher-sah roared.
The Bianchi children screamed, and then....
They disappeared.
My mind blanked at the improbability, but understanding soon clicked into place. My Thunder Cloak! The children’s sudden disappearance meant the princess had somehow followed me here.
“Get the kids and run, Genevieve!” I lurched toward Sher-sah, stumbling over my own feet. When I recovered my balance, I flung myself at him, running as fast as I could.
Another gun, most likely the Kerch’s pistol, answered the first shooter with big explosive booms that pounded against my eardrums. Everything swirled into a chaos of gunshots, yelling, and children’s screams. Over the pandemonium, a voice rang out, calling my name.
