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Chapter 10

It was a great day for the Circus, but even a greater one for the Farriers. After the two weeks break that forced Colette to stay in bed, it was clear to everybody that there wouldn't be a Queen of the Heavens for at least seven more months.

Holt had managed to carry on with his act, improving some horse tricks while he shot at moving targets; the balloons that once lifted Colette's lyra up in the air, now burst in sequence, freeing thousands of confetti that covered the crowd.
But they needed new things because the people were getting bored, unfortunately: instead of bringing new stunts, they had lost one of the gems that provided success to the show.

And Colette, of course, after two weeks of complaints, was eager to give her contribution.

Today was the day Max had set for the re-opening and to announce the changes, he had commissioned billboards all over town.

"Calamity Joe and the robotic cowboy." Holt read again out loud, feeling proud and excited. It was the first narrative performance he did in a very long time and that brought back memories of his wife, when they would play the parts of Annie Oakley and Frank Butler. Acting with his son made him happy, even if he had to play the villain who Calamity Joe had to beat during the final shooting match.

"How's my costume?" Chirped Joe, emerging from the divider with his costume on. It was a khaki jacket with tassels, high boots with ringing spurs and a wide cowboy hat with a red scarf which Colette had tied around his neck. He also wore an oversize belt with fake bullets in it. He looked adorable.

"It's perfect." Holt nodded, wearing the black glove over his robotic hand. The scarce budget left after purchasing Joe's outfit forced him to dye one of his old costumes, but he didn't mind as long as his son was happy and satisfied. "You better get ready: warm up with some bottles and show the people how good you are already!" He suggested and Joe stormed out of the tent, eager to start; after a few days of practice, he was already shooting at moving balloons, proving he was a natural. Holt was incredibly proud of him.

The act would have to begin with him shooting at random things with pellets and just before the last, more difficult shot, he would jump in the scene, on his horse at full gallop, challenging the boy at a shooting match to win the prize.

He smiled, following with his eyes as long as he could until the curtains closed and the external world was confined outside the tent again.

Of course, Calamity Joe wasn't the only big thing at the Circus.

"Colette? Are you ready?" He called impatiently, fidgeting on the spot as he tried to imagine her coming out from the same divider from which Joe emerged before.

Yes, he saw the new costume, but never worn by her. He was still worried, also, because in the past two weeks he'd cared for her completely and he could have her under control, always knowing where she was and what she was doing; today, for the first time, she would be out on her own, working, while he was out too, performing somewhere else, far from her, all the time pretending that everything was fine.

Holt wondered if he could sneak in her small cabin, during the day, only to check on her. But maybe not: it wasn't convenient. He would simply have to learn how to let her be on her own again, after all, she was a free woman and he had no right to keep her captive. He wanted to protect her in a healthy, caring way, not suffocating her to the point of making her unhappy.

When she finally appeared from the divider, he couldn't help smiling.
Her red wig was concealed under a wide blue hair band, which was covered in feather, peacock-themed earrings hanged from her ears, clinking lightly at each movement and a bright colored dress – also blue, yellow and green – was wrapping her figure in several layers of clothes. Her neck, arms, and fingers were full of jewelry, and she was wearing heavy makeup, with dark eyes and black lipstick, as well as her usual star on her cheekbone, but it was a black one, this time.
Everything about that outfit was highly extravagant but it was also its charm.

"You're beautiful." He whispered tenderly, immediately walking toward her to watch her closely.

Colette snorted, half diverted and half disbelieving.
"I'm not." She mumbled under her breath. She hated multi-layered clothes since she was used to wearing leotards and really tight costume to show her every move when she was up in the air. But on the other hand, that excessive dress hid her body from indiscreet eyes and it would continue to do it for several months, allowing her to be out in public and continue with performing in the Circus, even if not with her old act.
Max had assured she would be a success, that she was born for the role, but Colette wasn't sure. She was scared of failing: her true passion was being an aerialist, but now she needed to put her passion aside, for her child's and her own safety. And of course she wasn't the type of woman who sits and waits for the pregnancy to be over chewing on candies: she needed to do something, so she relied on Max. It was temporary; after all, nothing would forbid her to go back to her true passion, once the baby was born.

Holt studied her dense expression for quite some time before gently touching her chin. He didn't want to mess up with her make-up, but he also wanted to see her eyes: she couldn't doubt herself, not even for a moment.
"You're nervous." He said.

Colette heaved a sharp breath. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He could see right through her, lately: since the accident, they spent a lot of time together and that brought them closer than ever. Honestly, it had been a true blessing for their relationship.
"Maybe." She mumbled dismissively. She felt like the first time she performed in front of the big audience of Dreamland or the same knot at the stomach when she performed for the first time with him at the Medici Family Circus: that new act was like the beginning of an era, for her.

"Don't be." He reassured, pecking a soft kiss on her lips. He wanted to give her a consoling hug too, but that would likely mess up her dress, so he didn't. "You'll be great."

"I hope so." She nodded dubiously, slithering her hand under his arm when they heard the faint music coming from the speakers.

"Remember to not stay on your feet too long." He reminded her, clearing his throat.

Colette let out a peel of laughter.
"I will be sitting the whole time." She pointed out.

Holt nodded sheepishly: of course she would, he'd chosen personally the most comfortable and softest chair available. There were no excuses.
"Ready for showtime, princess?"

Colette smiled and gripped his arm tighter.
"Toujour, mon charmant." She replied, making his heart genuinely leap.

She walked out of her tent by his arm, sporting a mysterious and proud smirk and she made her way toward her modest cabin, while Max's voice roared and spread in the air through the microphones into a distant echo.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Medici Family Circus! Admire Ivan the wonderful and Kathrine the greater; see Rongo, the world's strongest and most versatile man! Then get bewitched by Miss Atlantis, performing underwater Shakespeare with the world's only merman, Puck. Visit Milly Farrier's World of Wonders, where science and technology await! Cheer for the new kid on the block, the skillful Calamity Joe as he defeats the vile robotic cowboy! And for the first time in our circus, from the mystic bruyèr of the Camargue, behold Madame Colette, our mystic fortune-teller. Go to her, and let her read your future. Venite gente, come and meet our family! Make yourself at home, here at the Medici Family Circus – where anything is possible!"

...

When the last show of the day was over, Holt finally could remove his sweaty hat. The sun was all the way down the hill now and the sky was becoming darker by the minute; Milly had already closed her tent and ran off to get ready for dinner and Joe had insisted with cleaning and feeding the horse by himself. Even if it was a big animal, the stallion was well trained and gentle with the kids, so he indulged his son and walked out of the barn. He thought of getting him a pony to improve the action during their stunt, for an instant, then he remembered they didn't have money for that, at the moment. Maybe one day.

Holt sighed and smiled at every person he met on his path. It was a strange feeling each night, when they would clean everything up for the next show, tomorrow; the loud music would be replaced by a peaceful silence, the laughs and the cheers by tired chats and murmurs and the air would be dense with the smoke of the fireworks. It was perpetual magic: everything now seemed so spent and yet the day after the lights would be on again and the people would scream in delight for them.
Was there a better life than theirs?

He walked faster toward Colette's cabin and he distractedly smiled when he saw the wooden billboard at the side, which read 'Madame Colette: fortune teller'. It had been painted by the kids, which was obvious by up close, where a crooked eye would occupy one corner and a mismatched deck of card the other, all covered with strange symbols that really meant nothing. It was eye-catching, though, and judging by the line of people he'd seen during the whole day, it must've been a success too.

He sighed and walked in.
Her spot was preceded by a small corridor of heavy curtains, to keep the darkness in and the light out. He had to admit that that little walk before entering the real cabin was giving him the right vibes of mystery and occult: Max was a real expert about show business.

Holt made the best effort to enter the cabin tiptoeing, stopping to watch her as she rearranged some trinkets on her round table and blew out some candles.
The place was small, heavily adorned with dark drapes and exotic things they'd found here and there in some old trunks. The only sources of lights came from the candles, which partially enlightened the scarce furniture there: the chair in which Colette was seated, the low round table full of odd little objects and some pillows on which the guests sat down.

"Madame Colette." He greeted with a smiled, which turned into a light giggle when she sharply turned to him, looking alarmed.

"Holt." She sighed. "How long have you been here?" She asked with a frown.

"A couple of minutes." He confessed with a guilty look. He liked to watch her doing things when she didn't know he was there. It gave him a sense of peace, somehow, and he would think about a lot of things about their future. "How was your day?" He said finally, walking toward the table and dropped himself on the pillow in front of her.

Colette laid back unceremoniously on her chair, unworried to let out a relaxed moan when she felt the muscles on her back finally relax.
"I'm exhausted." She breathed out. "But I'm happy with this new role of mine: it's fun to know secrets and I also get to meet a lot of people." She happily stated.

Holt frowned: if there was one thing he didn't want her to be, was exhausted. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to start such an act after two whole weeks of bed rest, with very little breaks and confined into a small space with very little light and fresh air, nonetheless, she seemed happy and that was all it mattered for him, honestly.

"So you're content with this?" He asked, gesturing vaguely around.

Colette nodded, well knowing he just needed to hear it from her lips.
"It's not like being up there," She sighed sincerely. "but it's fun."

Holt stared at her for a moment. She really looked like one of those fortune tellers from postcards or those pictures inside the cigarette packages: sophisticated, mysterious, charming, incredibly beautiful and his. He felt lucky.

He struggled to cross his legs on the pillow, the leathers squeaking against his skin, then he got captured by her slender fingers, casually playing with the purple deck of tarots. She was shuffling the cards without even minding her own actions, splitting the deck only to shuffle it again.

It was probably late and they would have to go back to their tent after dinner so she could get some rest before tomorrow, but the truth was that he wanted to stay with her a little longer, just the two of them. And she seemed to feel the same since she wasn't moving from her chair.

"Cast my tarots." Holt suddenly proposed. She threw and enigmatic glance at him, he shrugged dismissively. "Read my future, just for fun."

Colette halted immediately her movements, holding the perfectly even deck within her hands.
"No." She simply said, her eyes low. The lonely candle was casting shadows over the table.

Holt snorted in disbelief.
"You don't really believe this stuff, do you?" He asked perplexed.

Colette shrugged, suddenly feeling unquiet. She'd spent all day reading people's future, trying to interpret at her best the cards that came out – two weeks of reading books about tarots were a good training, but the craft wasn't easy – and she had to lie in more than one occasion, pretending that the death card didn't always mean bad things. He didn't want to know anything about Holt or the future, most of all if it were bad news; she didn't fully believe in the tarots, but it couldn't be bad or good luck either to get one or the other card.

"Don't be silly, Colette." He insisted, an encouraging smile painted on his lips. "We don't get some cards to decide our fate, princess." He said firmly. It was true. "C'mon, show me."

Colette swallowed the lump in her throat. Of course, it was just a stupid game, some other attraction to bring some little extra money to the Circus, and since it was a game, there was no reason not to play – it was on them whether to rely on some inanimate cards or not.

She started to shuffle the cards, then divided the deck into three smaller ones and put it in front of him.
"So, make your question."

Holt smirked, bending a little forward.
"Let's ask about us." He proposed.

Colette mimicked his expression. At least it wasn't something too specific, the interpretations could be many.
"So, these three decks roughly represent the past, the present and the future. The combination of the three cards that we get will give us a summary of your question and it's up to me to interpret the final meaning of those three cards." She explained.

Holt nodded, intrigued.
"Sounds interesting." He conceded and, following her instructions, he proceeded with taking the top cards from each deck and made them slide on the table, still covered.

At this point, Colette was curious too about which symbols they would get. When she extended her hand above the first card, her fingers started to itch; she didn't waste any time reciting silly spells she invented herself for show and carried on, turning the tarot over.
"The lovers." She smiled.

Holt immediately matched her happy expression.
"See? It's not that bad." He stated proudly, folding his arm over his chest as he tried to find a more comfortable position over those dreadful pillows.

Colette had relaxed a bit. It was a good card, of course, but even if they would end up getting a negative card – she reminded herself – it was just a game, so no harm would be done. She moved her hand above the second tarot and turned it over. She gasped silently when she saw the figure.
"Nine of swords." She murmured flatly, staring at the disturbing image of a girl weeping while being stabbed by nine swords into her chest.

"What does that mean?" Asked Holt almost instantly, ugly thoughts crowding his mind.

"Despair." She said. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but it hadn't come up all day long.

They shared a silent glance, to which Holt felt his stomach constrict: maybe it hadn't been such a great idea, after all.
There was only one card left. Colette didn't think twice before turning it, eager to end that useless torment.
"The angel." She breathed out.

Holt sighed at ease.
"It's a good thing, right?" He guessed, but his relieved expression changed drastically when he noticed her shaking her head slowly, her eyes grew serious.

"No." She dimly replied. "It's upside down." She pointed out, looking intensely at the image of the angel holding a big sword over a crowd of people. "It's the Last Judgment. It's about an adverse reckoning, means punishment for something."

Colette fell silent for a moment, her heart was racing inside her chest. If she had to tell a client her verdict, she would say that the lovers meant a strong and passionate love, full of torment and agony because of the nine of swords, but because it was in the right position, those woes would be overcome thanks to their love's strength; as for the angel, the punishment, she would have warned anyone who had asked the question and got that card for answer. Holt had asked that question and Holt had had those answers: lovers in their past, despair in their present and punishment in the form of an angel for their future.
She felt a cold shiver running up her spine and her hand subconsciously snaked its was done to her stomach, overcome with unforeseen protective instincts. Beneath all those layers of clothes, it was difficult to feel her still soft bump and that feeling made her panic a little, but she struggled not to show him.

Holt seemed to have read her thoughts. He forced himself a small laugh and reached out for her hand, which she immediately held.
"It's just a stupid game." He snorted, but his voice was carrying no emotions.

Colette nodded with a somewhat absent expression. "Of course it is."

* Toujour, mon charmant = always, my prince
* bruyèr = moor

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