“Prickly, prickly...”

“Keep it up, and I won’t miss you at all.”

She giggled and slid an arm around my shoulders. “You’re such a bad liar. You’re going to miss me so badly you’ll be sick with it.”

I set down the cutting board and carefully returned her embrace. “I have a history of having to leave friends behind, and you’re right. I probably will be sick with it. I wish you would come with us.”

The princess gestured toward the section of the field where workers were assembling the support structure for the main tent. Gideon dropped off his post and paused to wipe his forearm across his brow. The sun blazed hot and bright. No doubt he’d be drenched in sweat soon enough.

“This is the first place I’ve ever been that made me feel like I belonged,” she said. “It might not be as important as ruling kingdoms, but it makes me happy.”

“Finding your happiness and sharing it with others is just as important. Maybe more so. I’m afraid, sometimes, that I’m fated to bring only misery.”

She squinted at me, and her mouth turned down. “Does having your thunder back make you happy?”

“It makes me feel whole again.”

“I wonder what Tereza would do if she knew about Svieta’s, um...talents.”

“Will you tell her?”

She snorted and tossed her head. “Absolutely not.”

Conviction was strong in her words, but if Tereza and Otokar found the princess again, would she change her mind if giving up Svieta’s secrets might save her from further torment?

“When will they be here?” Genevieve swiped a dirty saucepan from Gepennio’s stove and dunked it in her wash water. “The Fantazikes, I mean.”

“Camilla said by tomorrow night. They can move faster when it’s one ship on its own.” According to Camilla, the Tippanys had agreed to fly from Toksva and meet us at the circus grounds on the outskirts of Barsava. How she’d managed to communicate with her sister, who was over 700 miles away, remained a mystery. I also wondered about Camilla’s life before the circus. The Fantazikes believed anyone who broke from their ranks were doomed to suffer bad luck. What catalyst had inspired Camilla to leave her tribe, break from her family, and join Le Cirque? I was curious, but not willing to offend Camilla by asking.

“I’ve seen the Fantazikes once before,” Genevieve said. “When I was a little girl, they came to Prigha. Tereza took me to their fair. I remember an old woman who told Tereza’s fortune. Now, years later, I’m performing in a circus show with that fortune teller’s sister. The world is full of so many strange coincidences.”

Goose bumps shivered across my arms. “Too many coincidences. I never gave much credence to fate before, but I guess as the last descendent in a line of gods, I shouldn’t deny the possibility that greater forces may be at work in our universe.”

Genevieve finished scrubbing her pan and handed it to me to dry and put away. “Maybe that’s true, when you’re destined to be a queen. For me however, I only wish for a life of my own, outside of Tereza’s shadow.”

“I think you’re well on your way. When the audience sees you and Ynnua tomorrow night, you’ll be the hit of Barsava.”

“You won’t leave before the end of my show, will you?”

I shrugged. “Depends on the Tippanys, I guess. They don’t like to stay in one place too long. They say one Fantazike ship on its own is too much temptation for some people to resist.”

“They’ll be under your protection, though, won’t they?”

“If anyone tried to harm them, or anyone in this circus, I’d bring the storms down on them.” It wasn’t much of a threat, though, considering the weakness of my demonstration the night before.

With less than a day to prepare for her first performance, Genevieve’s nervousness intensified. Her usual self-confidence and conceit faded, and she finished her chores as silently and unobtrusively as a shadow. For the first time since I’d met her, she seemed more like a young girl than the headstrong princess to whom I’d grown accustomed. After we finished serving lunch, Karolina went off to practice with Ynnua, leaving me to join Z’arta in the costumes wagon.

Sewing required little exertion, and it was the ideal chore to keep me occupied without worsening my wound. Without the ability to talk to each other, Z’arta and I worked in silence, relying on hand gestures and mime to communicate. The seamstress was obviously anxious to organize and arrange the costumes in preparation for the circus’s opening night.

Near nightfall, Gideon knocked at my door. “Supper’s almost ready,” he said. “I thought you could talk the princess into taking a break and getting something to eat. She’s been riding that unicorn non-stop all day. She’s got to be exhausted.”

Speaking of exhaustion, Gideon’s shirt was marked with stains, and the collar had gone limp from sweat. As we walked hand-in-hand toward Le Cirque’s big red-and-white-striped tent, he paused to cough.

I patted his shoulder, frowning at him. “That still sounds bad.”

“Still feels bad, sometimes, but it’s less frequent. I don’t get winded as easily as I did a few days ago.”

“The two of us sure make a tattered pair, Gideon. You with your burns and me with my....” I gestured at my chest.

He wrapped a big hand around my arm and tugged me against him, drawing me into his embrace. Beneath my ear, his heart beat strong and steady. “We’ve survived,” he said. “We’re still here.”

“We can keep fighting.”

“I wish we didn’t have to. I’d give anything to set you on a pedestal above all of this and keep you from danger, but that would be solely for my satisfaction. You’d never be happy living that way. I’m learning to accept that.”

I laughed and inhaled his scent—not so much like horses, but more like hard work, freshly cut lumber, and dirt. It was more pleasant than it might have sounded. “I’m learning to live with your protective nature. You give good advice, and I should take the time to consider it more often.”

He grunted a sound of agreement in his throat and hugged me closer.

An annoyed grumble from somewhere behind me pulled my attention away from Gideon. Genevieve stood nearby with her arms crossed over her chest, hip jutted, foot tapping impatiently. She clutched the Thunder Cloak in her fist, keeping it close, although she hadn’t worn it all day. Would she give it back when I left with the Fantazikes? Could I ask her to take that risk?

“I came to see if you two were ready for supper, but apparently you’re perfectly content to stand there and moon over each other.” She rolled her eyes and walked off, shaking her head.

I glanced at Gideon and shrugged. Grinning, he took my hand, and we followed the princess to the rear of the supper line, but before we reached the serving window, a cry went up somewhere beyond the edge of the wagon train. The shout was followed by several familiar, outraged roars.

“Sher-sah,” I said, preparing to run.

Gideon latched onto my shoulder and dragged me back. “Wait, Evie. You remember the plan. It won’t work if you give yourself away by running into the fight. If this is Le Poing Fermé, you have to let them come to you.”

Sher-sah’s roar, like a million crashing waves, ripped through the air again, rising above shouts and yells. A concussion of sound exploded, loud enough to make my eardrums shriek. My heart skip-tip-tapped out of rhythm for several beats, and a bolt of white-hot pain lanced through my chest. I bent over and gasped.

Gideon rushed ahead several steps and raised his hand, clearly demanding I stay in place. “Evie, let me check it out first.”

I swallowed my urge to protest, gritted my teeth, and nodded. While Gideon ran off beyond the wagon train’s perimeter to find the source of the disturbance, I focused on centering myself, calming my racing pulse, and tuning out distractions. Grandfather, get ready. I think it’s time to put our plan into place.

He said nothing, but already the air had taken on a heavy quality, as though filling with energy. In my mind, I reached out, searching for storms to call to my side. A huge thunderhead was waiting several miles out on the north end of Barsava. It had the potential to pack a huge punch, if I had the strength to control it.

“Evie.” Genevieve drew close to my side. Her face had gone pale, and her eyes were huge. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Yes, of course.” My confidence was a complete lie. I had no idea our plan would succeed, but our chances improved if we acted with calm heads and confidence.

Several dark figures emerged from the periphery of the wagon train. Like dark wraiths in cloaks and hoods, they silently approached. Their intent and focus felt like a hundred arrows pointed in our direction. I snarled. “It’s them, all right.”

A quiet sob escaped Genevieve’s throat, but she threw back her shoulders and raised her head. She’d donned the Thunder Cloak, and it rippled in the breeze around her as she took a fierce stance. She was a performer at heart, after all. If anyone could fake confidence and assurance enough to fool their adversary, it was this brave and daring princess.

I stepped further into the cook wagon’s shadows, remaining close enough to touch Genevieve, but far enough to evade the cabal’s notice. The same winds that played with the princess’s cloak toyed with my hair, tugging at the longs strands hanging loose beneath my top hat. The hem of my short, spangled skirt fluttered, and goose bumps rose beneath the thick hose covering my legs. I was dressed to deceive, to resemble Genevieve from a distance, outfitted for trick riding instead of combat. Good thing I intended to do neither.

Extending my will, I reached for the storm clouds and drew them to me. Energy collected in response to my commands, and a bolt of lightning formed, high in the atmosphere. Genevieve raised a hand, waved a dramatic flourish, and the storms appeared to respond to her.