Chapter Seventy-Three
Syaoran shot up out of his seat, only to have a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Not yet, Little Wolf," Seishirou said.
"But—"
"If you disrupt the show, there will be chaos. And if that happens, we might not make it out unscathed. It's better to be cautious and steal it away later than try for it now and get killed."
Syaoran sat back down. His fists were so tight, his knuckles went pale. Patience, he chanted to himself. Self-control.
The ringmaster went on, listing their featured performances for the night with as much enthusiasm as he hoped to see from the audience. Talk of fierce animals and daring acrobatics filled the room, only some of it coming from the man with the cane. When he did a series of back-flips off the stage, Syaoran's heart sunk. Watching Sakura's feather leave his sight and being unable to do anything about it was perhaps more disheartening than going after it and failing to get it back.
The first hour of the performance took his mind off the feather a little, though the anxiety caused by its proximity never quite left. Syaoran watched elephants parade across the stage and plop down so their front feet were free to rotate through the air. Tigers circled each other in deadly dances, moving as if to strike, then pulling back at the last moment, as if every step was controlled from afar. After the first few rounds, the animals made way for human performers. The first came down from the top of the tent, unseen all this time except by the most observant viewers. Her body was wrapped in a long ribbon of silk which moved about her like water as she twisted through the air. Her movements were as unrestrained as those of a bird in flight, and when she opened her mouth to laugh, the sound matched the call of a songbird.
Sakura would've enjoyed this part, he thought, as the woodwinds played to match her tinkling laugh. The woman released the silk and plummeted thirty feet before catching herself, half a foot from the ground. She gave a glorious smile and continued twirling, the silk ropes moving like a waterfall.
Two other performers joined her, falling from the ceiling in similar fashions. Their green and blue ribbons joined her red, and the three twined together, twisting up so that when they pushed off from each other, the colors spread out like a blossoming flower. Their piece concluded with a series of elaborate swinging motions as they traded silk waterfalls and climbed back up to the ceiling. When they were done, the crowd cheered in awe.
Two other performances followed, more intense than the first. In one, a pair of acrobats came down from wooden swings and took turns flipping between their perches in midair. Out of nowhere, other acrobats joined them, until there were a dozen people flying between the wooden swings.
"Princess Sakura wanted to join the circus once," Syaoran said between acts. "King Touya wouldn't let her."
"Well, would you want the princess of your country to get killed falling from a tightrope?" Seishirou asked, not taking his eyes off the performers.
Syaoran didn't answer. He'd come so close to losing Sakura too many times to be amused.
The third set of performers were up, a trio of acrobats that tripled in number as they stacked their bodies in ever-growing towers. At one point, they made a human pendulum from which one of the acrobats swung in wide circles.
"All right everyone," the ringmaster said, coming back out on stage. Syaoran tensed, seeing the feather in his shirt. "We're going to be taking a brief intermission, but be sure to come back in half an hour for the rest of the show. We'll be roasting a man alive for the grand finale. You don't want to miss it."
Syaoran wasn't sure he wanted to see someone burn alive, even knowing it was all a trick, but there were more pressing issues to attend to. He turned to Seishirou. "I'm going to go see if I can find out where the ringmaster leaves his outfit."
"You want me to come with?"
He shook his head. "Less conspicuous if I go alone. That way I can say I got lost if someone catches me."
Seishirou nodded. "Okay. I'll be here if you need anything."
Syaoran headed down the stairs, doing his best to blend into the crowd as they pressed toward the concession stands, while still keeping an eye out for the ringmaster. Despite his colorful clothes, he was hard to track down.
Focus, Syaoran told himself, closing his eyes and drifting toward the edge of the crowd. Sakura's feather gives of waves of energy. All I have to do is pinpoint that. The rest of the world went quiet around him as he tuned it out. As he focused, he felt a ripple in the air. He turned toward it, opening his eyes, and saw the ringmaster disappear behind a curtain.
He wandered down the hall, looking up at the tent ceiling above him, as if he wasn't really paying attention to where he was going. When he was close to the spot where the ringmaster had disappeared, he pretended to drop something. He bent down, ostensibly searching for the lost object while he listened to the sounds behind the curtain.
"I'm telling you, we've gotten better crowds ever since we bought this lucky feather in Kharta," the ringmaster said to someone unseen. "The performances are wonderful."
Someone else responded in a deep voice. "The animals are more obedient, and the performers take to your suggestions better than ever."
"Yes. At first, I doubted that magician's claim that this would enhance my powers—only fools believe in such rubbish—but then I witnessed it myself. What a wonderful power, to have control over everyone around you as if they were marionettes!"
The deeper voice was closer now. "So long as they don't break from your control, master."
Syaoran heard the whisper of fabric sliding against fabric, and resumed his search for whatever he'd dropped. The man—he assumed it was the man with the deep voice, since he and the ringmaster had been the only ones who'd spoken beyond the curtain—strode past him, not even glancing down.
He waited until the man was far down the hall, then stood. Beyond the curtain, he could hear the rumble of drawers, the crackle of torches. Might as well go now, he thought, sweeping the curtain aside.
The ringmaster was perched over his dresser, staring at the wall. "Back already, Brinowy?"
Syaoran took another step into the room, getting closer. When the ringmaster heard no answer, he turned.
"Who are you?"
"I'm looking for something."
"Well, beat it kid. I've got no handouts for a street urchin like you."
"I'm not a street urchin, and I'm not looking for handouts." He advanced another step. The ringmaster backed up, snatching his cane from where it leaned against the dresser and holding it up in a defensive gesture.
"Get out of here, boy. I've got nothing for you."
"That feather, attached to your shirt . . . I need it."
The ringmaster lifted one gloved hand up to the white feather. "It's mine."
"I'll pay you for it."
"You'd never be able to pay me enough."
"Name a price."
The man barked out a laugh. "Oh, you must think you're clever. I can make more money running this circus than you could ever pay me, and it's all because of this little charm." His fingers stroked the spine of the feather. Syaoran stiffened.
"I need it. For someone else."
"Get lost."
He advanced another step, letting his claws slide out. The ringmaster's eyes flashed down, freezing on the dagger-like growths. His mouth fell open a little bit.
"I don't want to fight you," Syaoran said, hoping the bluff would be enough. "but I will if you don't give me the feather."
"St-stay back!" His free hand fumbled for a more powerful weapon than his cane. Bits of jewelry clattered to the ground as his fingers swept across the top of the dresser.
Just as Syaoran was about to advance another step, the ringmaster found what he was looking for. In a flash of gold and silver, he brought it up to eye level.
A watch? Syaoran thought, eyebrows coming together in confusion. Suspended by its gold chain, the watch swung back and forth in the man's hand. Syaoran stared, dumbfounded. Fascinated.
Transfixed. The rhythm of the pendulum was such that the watch reached the bottom of its arc once every second, exactly when it ticked. He stared, trying to isolate the sheer quality of perfection brought on by the sound.
"Just stand there," the ringmaster said softly, and Syaoran couldn't help but obey. His entire being was focused on the swinging watch. Nothing else existed in the world, not the show, not the blood his body so desperately craved, not even Sakura. "Good, now back up a step."
Syaoran obeyed.
"Now I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say."
"Yes?"
"I want you to lie down, right where you stand, and take a nap. Don't wake up until I say 'pendulum'. Got it?"
"Yes . . ." He curled up on the floor and closed his eyes, obeying the ringmaster's orders without question.
The watch continued to tick even as he fell asleep.