Many thanks to anjumstar, TheOrdinariest, EllaAwkward, Fate-of-Wishes & lucksthegame for beta reading this chapter.
21
Contrivances
In the afternoon, the troupe members compared notes as to what they had observed that day. The combined three dining tables would look akin to a long conference desk, were it not for the grass underneath and the laundry lines on the far right. Still, the piping hot gammon and lentil soup provided some comfort from the wintry weather.
According to Emil, the local police had their hands full with serial murders. Corpses kept being washed ashore River Lohreinydd every few hours, and they all bore gunshot injuries. Rumor had it that in addition to their method of execution, all the victims shared one similarity: they had passed the part of the port where a new cargo had been docked.
Could it be the same shipment as the one mentioned by the man in the pub earlier? Yuuri thought as he unfolded the collar of his coat to cover his nape.
Hands clutching his cup, Emil carried on. "I took a closer look, but the soldiers didn't know about the contents of the cargo they were guarding. I'd say whatever is inside it must not only be illegal but also highly flammable. For one, the higher-ups were so afraid the truth would come to light that they went as far as executing nosy passers-by. For another, when a soldier tried to smoke, their corporal exploded with rage."
"You're alleging they smuggled explosives for the upcoming battles?" Celestino rubbed his chin.
Emil jutted his chin. "And whoever commissioned the sender cared more about their reputation than the lives of innocent bystanders."
Tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, Sara affirmed, "The viscount and viscountess are going to celebrate their twenty-fourth anniversary next week on the Day of the Moon. According to the local farmers, the head cook ordered a substantial quantity of apples from them, but Viscount Evrawg changed his mind about the food to be served at his upcoming party. Because of that, the farmers had no choice but to sell the apples they had already picked at half the regular marketplace price before the fruits rotted. That's why we bought them for our candied apple stand."
Those poor farmers! They must have been too afraid to oppose their lord's behest, but still… At the very least, the viscount should have paid half in advance. Doesn't he care about the starving farmers' families who spent their capitals to grow the apples he ordered? Yuuri bit his lip to prevent himself from sighing.
Mila added, "Now the candied apples are taken care of. Who'll attend to the stand?"
"I'll do it." Carla, one of the seamstresses, raised her hand. She always volunteered for any activity that invoked interactions with the younglings because medical reasons prevented her from having a child of her own.
"Much appreciated." Yakov leaned back in his chair. "Make sure you put up the sign for 'Toffee Apples' instead—just as the locals call them."
Michele rubbed the back of his neck. "As I careened around the town, disguised as a beggar, I saw that the viscount looking down at the beggars disdainfully like we were filth, but stopping his brougham to feed starving stray mongrels on the alleyways."
As Michele had needed extra time to cleanse himself from the soot he had applied on himself during his masquerade, he had been the last one to arrive at the dining table for their discussion. Yuuri had mistaken him as a poor and hungry old man who had come to beg for scraps when the former as well as Georgi had arrived at the camp some forty minutes prior. Yuuri had intended to give the beggar some food, but as soon as the beggar turned around, Yuuri had shrieked, "Michele?!" and elicited guffaws from both Michele and Georgi.
On the next turn, Chris reported, "Viscount Evrawg and Viscountess Dwysil have five daughters. Their eldest is married to the Earl of Lisdruannog and they live in the far north. The second and third daughters live at the king's court. One is rumored to be one of the king's mistresses and the other has become a lady's companion to the crown princess. So, only the two youngest ones live with the viscount and viscountess in the manor: the nineteen-year-old Enrhydreg and soon-to-be fourteen-year-old Gwlithen."
"How did you acquire all those details?" Yuuri blurted as soon as Chris recollected that the viscountess had an affinity for fictional works about vampires. Although none of his colleagues shot him a vexed look, he realized that his action disturbed the meeting when time was limited. "Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Please continue."
A smile graced Chris' countenance. "With a little persuasion, the lady's maid gladly talked."
Yuuri wondered what so-called "persuasion" truly had encompassed. If it involved seduction, would Masumi approve of it? Or does Masumi also use seduction as a tool? What would Victor do if he were in Chris' shoes, now that he has vowed never to seduce a single soul apart from mine?
However, Chris' smile soon melded into a frown. "One thing bothers me, though. While I kept an eye on the viscount's family, there was a man aiming for the same the same target as mine. He's about an inch taller than me, with medium build. He has a split chin and slanted eyes on his square face. His brown hair is cropped in a military style."
"Keep an eye on that man. If he turns out to be one of the spies employed to protect the viscount's secret, you have my permission to kill." Yakov steepled his fingers.
Otabek affirmed that the viscount had left his manor at approximately three in the afternoon to visit the post office. The post office attendant had confirmed upon inquiry that this routine was repeated every day with rare exception, even though the postman came to deliver and collect post at his manor every morning.
J.J. recounted, "When I pretended to seek employment in the viscount's manor, there were rumors among the household staff. One of them involved a missing footman. The butler told them that said footman had submitted his resignation, but nobody saw him leaving. I think this is the spy we're supposed to rescue. The viscount must have discovered him in action and hidden him somewhere in the manor."
Although Yuuri wanted to ask, how can you tell that the spy hasn't already been killed? he thought it best not to interrupt J.J., as he had done with Chris. By a stroke of fortune, the younger Yuri satisfied Yuuri's curiosity by voicing the query.
"That's where we come to the second rumor." A complacent grin graced J.J.'s mouth, for Isabella's gaze was transfixed upon him. "There's a certain part of the house wherein the maids are forbidden to loiter around. In fact, they're permitted to do the necessary cleaning only in the presence of the head housemaid, even though the room seems to host nothing of value—just standard furniture with neither jewelry nor a safe."
Yuri arched a brow. "Are you saying that place holds the entrance to a secret passageway or room? Couldn't the burnt remains of the spy's corpse be hidden in that room?"
J.J.'s grin grew even wider. "That leads us to the third rumor. The viscount's family motto—well, I should say the unofficial one, for the official one, which is carved above the staircases, read 'aut illic, aut nullibi,' which means 'either there or nowhere'—"
"Get to the point!" Yuri snarled and stomped his foot at the same time.
Although the twitch on J.J.'s face overtly indicated his displeasure with the obnoxious teenager's interruption, he resumed his explanation. "As I was saying, the family's covert motto is nemo vos impune lacessit or 'no one wrongs us without punishment.' That family would exact vengeance at all cost, and the spy is their only clue to learn his sender's identity. I wouldn't be surprised if the spy's mouth is forcibly being held open to prevent him from biting down the suicide pill stored in his fake tooth, in addition to other body restraints."
Yuuri swallowed. The gruesome image of a bleeding man—blindfolded, gagged, and tied up to a medieval torture device—manifested itself in his mind. How could J.J. talk about such a prospect as lightly as talking about the weather with no one aghast? Although Yuuri supposed this was a commonplace for spies, he couldn't help but shudder at the thought of how he would feel if Victor were to be the one in a similar mortal peril. He stole a glance at the man sitting next to him, who was gnawing on a biscuit without a care in the world.
Yuri huffed. "Lucky for you; you didn't have to follow a couple of shopping hags around. Anyway, the viscount's two daughters spent hours selecting a gift for their parents' anniversary. Their mother adores blood-red. Their father prefers black."
One of the seamstresses opened her notebook and told Yuri, "You must tell us in greater detail about their preferences. We'll adjust the costumes to win their favor when we perform at their manor."
"And the stage decorations, too," one of the stagehands added.
"Before we move onto the discussion of the stage performance," Yakov interposed, "do you have anything to report, Victor?"
"Despite not being a gardener, the viscount's gamekeeper took painstaking care of one particular plant in his master's property: jimsonweed. And in addition to the pheasants and hares, he carried a small pouch to the manor." Victor answered in-between his munches.
Celestino squinted. "Hmm, the devil's trumpet. While it can be used for analgesic, anesthetic, or other curative property, when there's a spy to be tortured, wouldn't it make more sense if the viscount has been using the Datura stramonium…"
"…as a hallucinogen and truth-drug during torture?" Victor completed Celestino's deduction, his words would have sounded impressive had it not been for his relaxed timbre and the crumbs speckled around his mouth.
###
After the troupe agreed on the show's choreography and sequence, the seamstresses and stagehands set to work while the performers began their practices. For this reason, Victor bade Yuuri to bring Makkachin on a ten-minute leisurely stroll while he prepared the magical apparatuses for Yuuri's lesson.
The table that usually laid folded in Victor's oaken trunk was standing erect upon Yuuri's return to their shared tent. It was laden with a set of crayons, a stack of paper cups, five tubular objects of unknown function, a knife, a drinking straw, a roll of yarn, and a piece of rope. Standing behind the table, Victor exhorted, "Let's start with one of the most basic tricks. You need to build an awareness of the varieties of tricks out there even though we won't be using parlor tricks in the upcoming show."
Victor lifted the rope, which turned out to be about two feet long. He folded the rope in two in order to make a loop in the middle, and then cut through its center with the knife. After returning the knife to the table, he twisted the cut ends of the halved ropes with his free hand, and in an instant, the rope had been restored whole.
"You know how it's done, don't you, Yuuri?"
It was too easy. "You didn't cut the rope," Yuuri hypothesized. "You concealed a shorter piece of rope in your hand before the trick commenced. This is the one that you actually gathered into a loop and cut in the middle. You raised it above your fingertips, while the long rope was beneath it, covered by your fist and out of the knife's way. The twisting of the short sliced pieces was just a diversion for hiding the proof."
"Very good." Victor smiled and held out his hand. Two pieces of rope, no more than three inches each, lay in his palm.
"Next is a variation of the same trick." Victor unrolled the yarn and cut about two feet of it. Having picked up the straw, he threaded the yarn through one end of the straw until it resurfaced on the other end. He bent the straw in the middle and, after severing it with the knife, he proceeded to stack the two pieces in one hand. When his other hand pulled the supposedly halved yarn, it came out as one piece instead.
"Can you tell me the similarities and differences between the previous trick and this one?"
"Well, since you showed me your palms while cutting the yarn earlier, you weren't hiding any replacement in them—that's the first difference. In this manner, you prove that the yarn hasn't been tampered with, unlike the rope. So, the trick must lie in the straw." Yuuri bent and picked up the two halves of the straw.
"Here are the proofs." Yuuri pointed out at the vertical slit on each straw piece. "When you cut the straw, you didn't slice the yarn together with it. You must've slit the straw lengthwise before the trick began, and then tugged both of the yarn's ends until its middle part went down through that opening as you reached for the knife. Your hand covered the yarn that was safe and sound below the blade, similar to what you did earlier with the rope. Since the yarn is still fed through the two remaining ends of the straw, it creates the illusion of two separate pieces hanging from inside. You deliberately held the straws partially stacked without letting the middle part of the string show before you slid it out as one uncut object. As for the straw pieces, you let them fall to the ground so that they can't be examined."
Victor's lips curved upward. "I have nothing to correct."
Next, Victor took a handful of crayons and placed both hands behind his back before spinning around until he faced away from Yuuri. "This trick is one of the simplest mental telepathy dupes that even a child can accomplish. Pick one of the crayons, Yuuri, and then put it in my empty hand."
Yuuri made sure not to choose his favorite color. Afterward, Victor spun around again until he faced Yuuri with his hands still behind his back. When he brought his hands to the front, all the crayons had already been gathered in one hand. "To build anticipation, you'd need to ask your audience to imagine the crayon and clear their minds of other thoughts while depositing their chosen crayon in your empty hand. Also, it's favorable to announce the right answer using the elimination method so you appear striving, but since we're short of time, I'll just say you picked this one."
Singling out an orange crayon from the rest, Victor dared with a playful tone and a dazzling smile upon his countenance, "Surely, you can enlighten me how I identified the crayon of your choosing even after mixing it with the others?"
Yuuri stepped forward and held open Victor's hand. An orange streak ran across his thumb. "There. You used the crayon to colorize your skin. When you moved your hand to pick the crayon from your other hand, you took a peek of the color it left behind and matched it with the right crayon."
"Excellent. Now, the next trick is the more dangerous version of the mind reading dupe." Victor separated five unknown tubular objects from the rest of the bric-a-brac cluttering the table. At a glance, they appeared to be snow-globe bases; however, on a closer inspection, Yuuri discerned that a slit occupied the center of each base, whereupon Victor lodged the knife with its blade facing up into one of them. Then he unstacked five equally identical paper cups of matching diameter. "Yuuri, I'd like you to cover these five bases with the cups and mix up their placements."
"You're going to point out under which cup the knife is hidden?" Yuuri guessed as he complied.
"Uh-huh," Victor confirmed and turned his back.
"Ready," Yuuri announced as he retracted his hands. The five of circular bases now appeared to be wearing hats of upside-down paper cups.
Eliminating one at a time, Victor crushed the paper cups bare-handedly until only the last cup remained. Yuuri could not help but wince each time his mentor paused for a dramatic effect during the process. He had assumed that Victor would merely uncover the right cup rather than exposing his hand to the risk of a pointy blade. Still, Yuuri waited until Victor had removed the last cup—uncrushed—and revealed the knife beneath it, before shaking his head and said, "I don't like this one."
"You can't figure out how it's done? That's rare," Victor teased, his tone laced with curiosity rather than disappointment.
Yuuri shook his head. "You probably marked the knife-holding base beforehand to make sure you wouldn't hit it."
"Guilty as charged." A wide grin across his face, Victor held out the base with the knife for Yuuri to inspect. It had a minuscule dent.
Yuuri ignored it. "I just … I can't have a peace of mind when you do this trick even though it wouldn't bother me if some stranger were to do it. Remember when Maximilian performed an arm slashing trick with his carving knife? I doubt I'd be happy to see that long blade pretending to slice your forearm."
"In other words, you can't bear the possibility of seeing me in pain, even though it's just a pretense?" Victor leaped toward Yuuri, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Aww, Yuuri~"
Yuuri twiddled his thumbs. "No one would love to see their dearest suffer." Nevertheless, he allowed himself to indulge in Victor's comforting embrace and inhale his lover's scent for a minute before stating in the firmest tone he could muster, "We should practice some more for tomorrow evening's show."
Although the disappointment in Victor's eyes was obvious, he released Yuuri. "As to be expected from my number one apprentice!"
"Your one and only apprentice," Yuuri corrected him. "Though I think it may be better if you start adding to the number of your apprentices."
Victor blinked. "Why?"
"Your performance in Gontreda is almost like a one-man show. Georgi did close the coffin and push the gurney, but you're the one who did all the escape-from-death acts. While it is a remarkable feat in itself, it also shows how … reluctant you are to be dependent of others. There's no need to shoulder the burden of being the world's greatest ice magician alone. The other troupe members have long become your comrades without you realizing it."
Victor fell into a contemplative silence with a forlorn look in his eyes. Fame had undoubtedly distanced sincerity from him. In fact, based on his account on the types of girls who thirsted for his affection, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume that he had constantly been surrounded by sycophants and those who'd simply use him for their personal gain.
Yuuri approached Victor. "I used to have no friends my age. The people in my hometown considered men who were engaged in skating to be too effeminate and, in Kouki's history, such a disposition was often associated with theater and uh, prostitution. However, I was blessed with a supportive family. My parents' eyes held a longing glint whenever their friends talked about how their sons got married and took over their family businesses, but not once did they pressure me to create my own family." He stroked his lover's hair. "Victor, both our families have perished, but I believe there's a reason God has brought us together. We're here for each other now. And the other troupe members, too. We're all here to become one big family."
Victor's eyes found Yuuri's in an affectionate gaze and he murmured, "You never cease to surprise me, the brightest star in my sky."
A smile tugged at Victor's lips before they landed on Yuuri's.
###
To Yuuri's relief, no one mentioned that both his and Victor's lips were swollen by the time they had joined the others for skating practice. Enthusiastic cheers corresponded to Victor's announcement for the new choreography when he assured them that it would not affect the stage decoration and costume.
"Based on the tricks you've just explained, I think we can master the incorporation of the additional magic practice to our skating in a timely fashion." Phichit beamed. "None of them are overly complicated to achieve, while they're sure to amaze the audience."
As the performers and stagehands proceeded to help Victor taking out the apparatuses, Mila asked, "Why the sudden change, though? You've never asked us to be deeply involved in your performance before."
"Oh, I think we know why." Chris cast Yuuri a meaningful glance punctuated by a wink.
Yuuri stayed behind after everyone had finished practice that night, since the success rate of his quadruple salchow was too low for his comfort. Victor had told him that it would be all right if he performed it as a triple instead, but Yuuri would not be able to forgive himself should he fail.
Still, he failed.
"Don't pull your left shoulder back as that leg comes around! You'll end up losing most of the power in your jump." A voice surprised Yuuri.
He spun around, only to find a teenage boy, arms akimbo, near the rink. "Yurio, you returned here … just to see how I fare?"
"Don't be absurd! I just needed to get my gloves." Yuri turned his back and started walk away, both hands in his pockets.
"Thanks for the tip," Yuuri chirped.
"Consider it as payment for finding my cat."
The reply came as a grumble, but it brought a smile to Yuuri's lips nonetheless. One his next attempt, he concentrated on the balance between his upper and lower body. Yuri had been correct: Yuuri had been too focused on his legs that he'd neglected the position of his shoulders.
The stentorian claps from the auditorium when Yuuri performed the jump the next evening proved how helpful Yuri's advice had been. Yuuri's stage fright did not ruin his quadruple salchow as he skated together with the entire cast except Victor in a fanfare preceding the world's best ice magician's appearance.
Beneath the sentinels of stars, the circus marquee stood. With Victor's "advertisement" at Maximilian's show the other day, not even the cats-and-dogs rain deterred enthusiastic circusgoers from queuing in front of the ticket booths. The mobile mini tents of umbrellas lining up in processions before entering the marquee looked like little goslings huddling up to the mother goose.
The skaters pretended to be townspeople conducting business on an ordinary day. Then Celestine's voice narrated, "The town is lively with the hustle and bustle of its denizens. Despite this peaceful façade, the town is under the control of a dreadful gang known as the Shark Wings. They monopolize trades and, with such a strong financial background, they can do anything as they please. Anyone who opposes them will face execution. Yet, hidden behind the soot-covered masonry stands one vigilante."
The jocund music took a more mystical turn. The skaters retired behind the stage. In their place, the backdrop of a brick exterior wall with a hollow entryway accessible via low stairs was presented in the middle of a circular dais. Then, as the dais rotated, the lights dimmed except for a single spotlight in the middle. On the other side of the wall, plastered with pastel-colored wallpaper to imitate the interior of a building, Victor made his appearance, positioning himself in front of the bottom step with his back facing the audience.
"Can a single man oppose an entire evil organization? Who is he to have such audacity?" Celestino's voice boomed throughout the silent marquee.
Victor made a few twirling gestures with his hands and, gradually, he began to levitate.
"He's afloat!" a little boy in the first row pointed out loudly enough to be heard backstage.
From behind the stage curtain, Yuuri saw Isabella beaming with pride as her work played a significant part in the success of Victor's act. A well-concealed vertical slit on Victor's trousers allowed his right crus to come out. His right shoe had also been cut to allow his foot to slip out undetected. From the audience's point of view, he appeared to hover above the floor. However, from the sides and backstage, onlookers could see that Victor merely stepped out of his rigged costume and rested his right foot onto the first step. To prevent his right shoe from dangling too far away, the inside edges of its heels were attached with Velcro.
"He's a magician!" Celestino announced. "Neither wires nor hydraulic lifts help him off the floor; just extreme concentration and telekinetic power!"
The audience booed, and a teenage boy even squalled, "Lies!"
Celestino continued in an upbeat tone, "But of course you shouldn't just take my word for it. Ladies and gentlemen, behold the proof!"
The dais rotated once more. This time, Victor stepped through the entryway so that he remained in the audience's view along with the restored brick wall. In lieu of keeping his back at them, he displayed the signature smile that elicited squeals from several girls in the audience. Slowly, he raised his arms, and his body rose along with them. Inch by inch, his entire being left the floor.
A few stagehands entered, two from each side of the stage, carrying a rectangular steel frame larger than the one typically used for holding full body mirrors. To prove that no part of Victor's body was supported by a string, they wheeled the metal around the floating magician.
"There really is no string… Good Lord, that bloke defies gravity!" a man exclaimed amid the mishmash of amazement and disbelief in the audience.
Behind the stage curtain, a stagehand drove forward a modified tractor to push the mechanical arm through the slit flexible rubber panel hidden in the wall directly behind the magician. This extended metal arm was equipped with a magnetic plate, which would correspond to the one strapped to the small of Victor's back and concealed by his flamboyant costume. With Victor's body blocking the view, the audience took no notice of the magnetic plate attachment by way of electromagnetism, which afforded them the view of a "floating" magician the moment the tractor operator elevated the mechanical arm.
A small section of the frame was made of foam rubber painted to assume the appearance of metal. It bent and snapped back into place once the extended mechanical arm had passed through the gliding frame, thus dismissing the possibility of the supporting steel rod from the audience's minds. As the tractor operator lowered the mechanical arm, the audience saw Victor's gradual landing. The moment his shoes touched the dais floor, the auditorium erupted in a cacophony of applauses.
The audience's cheers faded into white noise when a flash lighting up the ceiling caught Yuuri's eye. He still had the remains of a victorious smile on his lips when a section of the theatrical fly system crashed down onto the stage. Amid the sparks from the four lamps on the fallen truss and the audience's screams, Yuuri's yell was just as pointless as any other, but in his memories it would never pale. With dread clawing him, the evening's pleasance fled him with the irrepressible influx of horror.
"VICTOR!"