“When is it?”
“It already passed a few days ago. I don’t know about any kings coming or going, though. It’s just a story the town loon used to tell.”
We approach the Freak Show tent, with its black and red stripes and shimmering glass ball at its peak. Tree stands beside our sign, slouched slightly but not quite sleeping, and blending into the forest scenery. He watches us approach, particularly Luca. “A bit fancier than my little platform,” he says, then startles. “Oh, I didn’t see him there.” He eyes Tree up and down and then extends his hand.
Tree doesn’t move.
Luca moves the hand away and shoves it in his pocket. His eyes narrow as he inspects Tree, as if making sure he’s awake. I stifle a laugh. No one seems to understand Tree besides me. “So,” he says awkwardly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Both of us pause, and I’m not sure why. Perhaps because this walk has felt very casual, that a lot of our relationship feels casual, when it is centered around the deaths of my uncle and baby brother. It was somehow surprisingly easy to forget that fact when I was at his tent, bickering about things that don’t matter, but now we’re here, in front of my tent and the grief it houses.
A few minutes ago, I was someone else. Someone distanced from the despair here.
But now that I’m back, I’m Sorina again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. “Thanks for the company.”
He doesn’t say anything but simply nods and walks down the path.
I decided earlier we weren’t going to be friends. But as I watch him disappear into the smoke, I suppose I could warm up to him. This partnership won’t be a complete disaster.
I turn to Tree, who leans down over me so that his leaves itch the back of my neck. One of them falls at my feet. “You’re shedding,” I tell him.
He pokes my cheek with one of his twigs, which scratches me. He forgets which parts of me tickle and which do not.
I tickle him under his arm, and his laughs make his leaves shake as if a wind blew through him. “You’re not usually in the Festival at night. Are you keeping watch?”
He nods. His eyes are wide. He’s worried. He’s missing Gill and Blister.
I rub behind his ear. “We’ll protect them, don’t you worry.”
CHAPTER TEN
While we’re gathered together in our sitting room, seated on the floor among peanut shells and junk that no one has bothered to clean, Nicoleta tells the group that she thinks sleeping in the same tent together will cheer everyone up. I, unwilling to participate and be the bearer of bad news, focus on my book. Neither Crown nor Tree seem to care much one way or the other, but Hawk and Unu and Du complain about it until nearly sunrise.
“Du has morning breath. I’m not sleeping next to him.”
“Hawk snores.”
“Unu sleep-talks. It’s terrifying.”
“Then sleep at opposite sides of the room,” Nicoleta snaps. She rubs her temples, and I brace myself for the complaints I’m bound to hear later about one of her stress headaches. “Hawk, you can trade places with Crown.”
“But his feet—” Du starts.
Nicoleta grabs him by his ear. “If I hear your voice again in the next ten minutes, I’ll shave you both bald in your sleep.” Both of their jaws drop in expressions of horror. Unu and Du’s impressive manes of brown hair are their pride and joy.
Nicoleta takes a deep breath to compose herself. Her hair has fallen piece by piece out of her bun, and she scratches at the dry skin on her arms, leaving streaks across her biceps. “Venera, you can sleep in Sorina’s room to make room for the others.”
I look up at the mention of my name. Villiam likely expects me to have the reading finished for when we meet again the day after tomorrow, but Venera would be a welcome distraction. I’m currently skimming the book about Gomorrah’s proprietors, though the stories are rife with bloodshed.
Hawk digs into her pouch of lucky coins. Earlier today, she and Unu and Du traded some of theirs in the gambling neighborhood.
“Look at the one I got, Sorina,” Hawk says. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?”
“No,” I say. I need a break. I don’t have the attention span to read an entire book in one sitting.
She hands me the coin. It’s the Necromancer, a rarer coin than even the Beheaded Dame. Unu and Du are probably seething with her finding this. I flip through the pages of the book until I find the Necromancer.
“She was a proprietor of Gomorrah shortly after the city burned. She’s credited with the charm that keeps the city burning. Legend goes that she bound the souls of the dead to the city walls, who, eternally smoldering, cloak the city in its smoke.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s why there’s smoke?”
“It’s just a legend.”
“All legends in Gomorrah are true,” Unu says devilishly, having overheard pieces of our conversation. Hawk whitens.
“Don’t you two have chores?” I ask them. “Shouldn’t you be taking care of the horses?” The animals are Unu and Du’s only job.
They skulk outside, leaving Hawk to stare nervously at her new lucky coin.
“It’s not real,” I say, even though it might be.
She nods slowly. “You missed Kahina. She stopped by earlier and brought us all caramel rice cakes.”
“How did she look?” Her most recent supply of medicine is probably running low. I will have to pay Jiafu a visit later. He has had ample time to sell Count Pomp-di-pomp’s ring in Cartona.
“She looked about the same. Do you want a rice cake?”
“That’s all right. I’m still full from Crown’s kebabs.”
I close my book and head back to my room, sectioned off from the rest of the tent by a tapestry. It’s mainly full of pillows and the specimens of my bug collection, which Venera doesn’t particularly mind. She follows me back there, lacking her usual makeup, her brown hair braided down to her waist. “Mind if I join you?” she asks.
I sit down and scoot over to give her room. “This is your room now, too.”
Venera sits, a stack of papers on her lap. She manages all the books and financials of the Freak Show. The rest of us can’t handle working with so many numbers, but Venera can not only do all the math in her head, she seems to enjoy it, as well. She finds the repetition and mindlessness comforting. I don’t find it mindless at all, probably because I’m not half as smart as her. I wish other people knew Venera as I do; our neighbors merely view her as a party girl, leaving every night with a face full of makeup and returning each morning at the early hours of dawn.
“Why do you think Nicoleta has us on lockdown?” she asks.
“No idea,” I lie.