“That doesn’t mean I’m not real.”
I wince, remembering Villiam’s harsh words about my illusions. “What I mean is, you don’t have to love me. Even if I created Hawk to be my sister and Crown to be my grandfather, you don’t need to be connected to me.”
“It’s not a need,” he snaps. “It’s a want. But if you don’t want me—”
“It’s not that at all! When Villiam accused you, I was distraught over Venera’s death. I let him confuse me, and I’ll forever hate that he so easily turned me against you.” I bite my lip, uncertain if I should go on, if I want to bring up the misery of those days, but Luca nods at me to continue.
I owe it to him to apologize properly. “I was distraught and devastated. I still struggled to wrap my head around the accusations because...I love you, and it was impossible to see beyond it. When I thought you were gone...it was terrible.” My voice has reduced to a whisper, and Luca’s expression has softened. “So it’s not that I don’t love you. I’m just scared because the only people in my life are figments of my own imagination.”
He sets me down. We have reached his caravan. It would feel better to stand, to pace, but Luca sits on the edge and leans against the door. He motions for me to join him. I sit close to him, my legs dangling several inches from the grass.
“I am not a toy,” he says. “And neither is the rest of your family. Your illusions, whatever you imagined them to be, don’t turn out the way you plan because you cannot control us. I’ve made my own decisions, and you’re one of them. Don’t diminish me to something less than a person. If I want to try to be with you, it’s because I choose you.”
His face is inches from mine, and I stare into his dark eyes. My heart, broken and exhausted from weeks of tragedy and betrayal, manages to flutter. He wants to be with me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter. I just need to know if...” He squeezes my hand, his eyes peering through me as if I’m not even wearing a mask. I brace myself for what he is about to ask. I’m prepared to give him anything, if only he will forgive me, if only he will keep loving me. “If you will let me apply for the vacant position in your show.”
I bark out a laugh. “What?”
“If Nicoleta is going to take over the duties as proprietor, you’ll need a new manager.” His eyes glint mischievously. “Were you expecting me to say something else?” He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“The pay won’t be much,” I say.
“I’ll take a pay cut if it means not being slayed for sport.” He smiles, dimples and all, as he presses his forehead against mine.
I’m breathless.
“Unu and Du bicker incessantly.”
“I’m sure I can tolerate that.” His breath warms my cheeks.
“Crown’s food... It’s really terrible.” My voice grows quieter with each word.
“I don’t doubt it.”
Luca runs his hand through my hair, making me tingle all the way down my back.
I kiss him, and he kisses me back in a way that makes me dizzy. Not dizzy from his lips, or the taste of him, or the smell of his soap, but dizzy in my thoughts. I’m kissing Luca, the boy who loves me, who sees me as more than a freak. The boy who’d call himself a freak, too.
“Just say yes,” he whispers.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I peek behind the curtain at the audience from a southern town in the Up-Mountains, a quiet place used to the comings and goings of Gomorrah but no less delighted with our visits every few years. They wear simple clothes and, due to the harsh mountain winter, coats buttoned all the way up from their knees to their necks. They chatter about the last time they visited Gomorrah and other acts they’ve seen earlier tonight, like the fire-juggler who wears all black or the swan dragon at the Menagerie.
I search the front row for Nicoleta and then spot her at the end. She wears her light brown hair down and wavy, and she laughs and whispers into the ear of her date, a gorgeous girl of mixed background, a charming smile and delicate, feminine features. Whatever joke Nicoleta told must have been crude, as several visitors around them turn to glare, which only makes the pair laugh harder. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Nicoleta grin like that.
The patrons have no reason to expect a young woman in such casual clothing to be the Festival’s proprietor.
On the opposite side of the backstage stands Hawk with her fiddle and Unu and Du with their drums. Beside them, dressed in scarlet satin robes, is Luca. He nods at me, my cue to raise the curtain.
The music plays. The curtain rises. And Luca struts onto the stage, his cloak swinging behind him. The silver piercing he usually wears in his nose has been replaced by a deep amethyst for the show. “Welcome to the Gomorrah Festival’s famous Freak Show,” he says in his practiced performance voice, meant to project across the tent. “I’m Luca, the show’s manager, and I’d advise anyone of faint constitution, or those who’ve recently filled their stomachs with treats, to leave now. The show is filled with horrors, and there’s no need to add to them by overturning your food in the second row.”
He pauses to let the music fill the tent. Hawk, in addition to playing her fiddle, sings an eerie aria. The audience members watch the stage with apprehension and curiosity, exactly the way Luca wants them.
“And now, without further ado, let the show...begin!”
Thump. Thump.
“I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine,” Luca says. He sits on the edge of the stage and casually crosses his legs, as if completely unconcerned by the near-earthquake thundering behind him. He smiles the dimpled smile that I’ve pined over agonizingly for the past six months. “He comes from the Forest of Ruins. A rare half man, half tree.”
Tree emerges on the stage, and most of the audience leans back in their seats. Tree glances at me for a moment, and I smile at him as if to say, Go on, you’re doing magnificently. He waves at the audience without me needing to control him. He even grins.
“Wonderful, isn’t he?” Luca says. “You’ll notice that, even in winter, his leaves are still a vibrant green. Could I have a volunteer to come onstage, then?”
No one raises their hands. No one ever does.
Luca jumps off the stage. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You, there.” He points at a frumpy woman with his walking stick. “You look like you could do with some flowers.”
She shakes her head vehemently.
“Nonsense.” He takes her hand. “I simply won’t allow it. My friend Tree will be upset, as he would very much like to present you with a flower.” He hoists her up and leads her onstage. She trembles from the attention and more so the closer she walks toward Tree. Luca points his walking stick up toward Tree’s head, at his impressive mess of branches and leaves. “There, see, there are flowers. Would you like to pick one?”
The audience cheers. Encouraged by their enthusiasm, the woman nods. She reaches up and plucks off a pink blossom from one of Tree’s branches.
Adding more participation to the show was Luca’s doing. It’s been one of his better ideas. His other idea involved having his old assistant pretend to run up to the stage to kill him, only for him to miraculously come back to life, but that had our audience screaming and running out of the tent. Now Luca remains alive throughout the entire performance.
“Thank you, Tree,” Luca says. “And now, I’d like to introduce my next friend, who I assure you is gentler than he looks. Crown, would you come out and greet our cheerful audience?”
While Tree joins me backstage, Crown walks out, leaning against his cane. He carries two heavy wooden boards with his other hand.
“You were great,” I whisper to Tree, who smiles. I sit on the ground at his feet, looking up at the shade of his leaves and recalling a time when he could pick me up and swing me around. When it was only me and Tree. “You’re still my bud, you know.”
He picks off a flower and hands it to me. I slip it behind my ear.
“Now, I’m looking for two volunteers this time,” Luca says. He chooses two small boys sitting near the back, who look more than pleased to have been chosen. “Each of you, take a board. This one is thicker, you see. Knock on them. Hit them. They’re quite solid, aren’t they?”