Chapter 1 Esmeralda #2
She flicked the cards in the air and watched with greedy anticipation as they fluttered toward the girls. The lustrous ink shimmered like fish scales underwater. When the cards stuck into the remaining cotton candy and the pair gasped, Esmeralda smirked.
The girl dressed as an angelfish plucked one out and read aloud the inscription. “La Paloma Blanca: Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.” She shrugged. “I’ve never heard of her.”
Esmeralda’s smirk fell flat.
The girl flipped the card over. “It’s a drawing of two fishes swimming in the sea. And look! Their wake makes a heart. That’s…rather romantic.” She blushed. “What do you say? Want to have our fortunes told?”
The other girl nodded emphatically. “Yes, let’s!”
Esmeralda gave a tiny victory dance.
Someone bumped hard into her shoulder. She whirled around and sneered, but the woman dressed as a chicken paid her no mind. She was too busy raising her feathered arm and downing a full bottle of glowing liquid. The woman’s eyes bulged as the cerulean tonic slipped down her throat. She wheezed.
Esmeralda snickered. Serves her right for not watching where she was walking.
The magic elixirs were meant to be sipped slowly over days, not taken all at once.
Whatever the woman drank would be in her system for at least a month.
The tonics sold in the shops did whatever they wanted and often acted like naughty children, forever switching labels from hair growth to nose growth tinctures.
From love potions to potions that induced gas.
Magic was as devious as it was wonderful.
The woman gasped and coughed. The man wearing a rooster costume beside her patted her back, causing the fleshy red comb on his head to wobble.
“I told you to taste it first,” he shouted over the music and mayhem.
The woman opened her mouth to speak, but the screech of a hen came out instead. She clutched her neck. Her eyes bulged. She tried to say something else, but all she could do was cluck.
Esmeralda pulled the last card from the pocket in her cloak and slipped it into the man’s hand. He blinked in confusion.
“La Paloma Blanca can help you with your troubles,” she said in her most mysterious and alluring tone. She spun away. Laughter bubbled out of her at the thought of telling fortunes to an oversized fowl.
Cutting right, she entered Clown Alley—the backstage area where the Big Top performers readied themselves for the show. Gone were the sugary-sweet scents of the carnival, quickly replaced by skunky smoke and puffs of the powder used by the aerialists.
A hand shot out and grasped her arm. Esmeralda froze.
“How many times do I have to tell you that this area is meant for performers and crew only?” a gravelly voice said.
Esmeralda wasn’t in any of the Big Top acts yet, but this path led directly to her fortune teller’s wagon.
She smiled and batted her lashes at the large rata. She had taken to calling the guards of the carnival ratas because they were like rats—always around to nibble away at anything fun.
“I’m just passing through,” she said sweetly.
The rata’s thick brows furrowed, making him look like a bulldog. “You’re always just passing through.”
“Perhaps so I can see you. I do so love our spirited exchanges.”
He wasn’t impressed. “Go the long way like the rest of you third-ringers.”
She ignored the slight. To have a wagon or booth situated on the outer edge of the carnival meant you lacked luster. But she wouldn’t be a third-ringer for long. And this rata would be the first person she’d stick her nose up at once she made a name for herself.
“Esmeralda!” a familiar voice called.
Camila jogged toward her with an extra bounce in her step, weaving through rowdy clowns and stretching ax throwers. Her sequined bodysuit was a vibrant shade of lime green and fit her muscular frame perfectly. The costume was nothing like the all-white atrocity Esmeralda was made to wear.
Esmeralda jerked her arm free of the rata’s grasp and raced into Clown Alley. He yelled after her but made no move to give chase. There was no point. He had to know by now that she’d keep taking this route anyway.
“Why do you look like you’re in such a good mood?” she called out.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Camila shouted back.
Esmeralda laughed. “Yes, actually, I would!”
Camila stopped before her, towering over her like always.
Her skin was the same golden brown as Esmeralda’s, but that was where their similarities ended.
Esmeralda’s black hair could never be tamed by a comb.
Camila’s was straight and silky and forever parted into two plaits.
Esmeralda was small enough to go unnoticed. Everyone noticed Camila.
“Did the new boy finally sweep you off your feet and give you the smooch you’ve been dreaming about?” Esmeralda teased.
“Har. Har. No. But close. He smiled at me today.”
“Wow. That’s progress.” Esmeralda nodded approvingly but in a sarcastic sort of way. She had been trying to get Camila to make a move since the young man joined the carnival five days ago.
“Slow and steady…or whatever they say,” Camila said.
“Personally, I prefer fast and sporadic.”
Camila scoffed. “Are we talking about potential love interests here? Because I haven’t seen you so much as speak to a boy in that way since I met you.”
A splinter of sorrow pricked Esmeralda’s heart at the thought of being romantic with anyone ever again. She ignored the sadness. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the show?”
Camila rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. Instead, I’m hiding from my ridiculous sister. She won’t shut up about trying out a new act.” She snapped her fingers. “I nearly forgot. Gabriel is searching for you. He had that wicked glint in his eyes, so you know he’s up to no good again.”
Esmeralda huffed. “He probably doesn’t even know what the word good means.
I better get a wiggle on it.” She started to walk deeper into Clown Alley.
Leaving Gabriel alone for long was never a smart idea.
He was too clever, always building new contraptions.
But just as many times as he created something wonderous, he also failed and saw disastrous results.
“I need to find him before he accidentally sets my underthings on fire…for the third time.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Camila said. “I’d prefer to avoid Pilar at all costs. She wants to attempt to stand on my shoulders while juggling dumbbells.”
“Your sister couldn’t catch a cold if she tried. How does she expect to juggle?”
“Tell me about it. But she says we must have something new to perform for the Running.”
Esmeralda halted. “The Running?” She whirled toward her friend. “Does this mean…”
“We got our invitation thirty minutes ago,” Camila said. She blew out a shaky breath. “I’m not sure if I should be excited or terrified. I’ve heard the stories. I know how often people get hurt during the challenges just to impress the ringmaster. But Pilar has her mind set on it.”
Esmeralda’s jaw dropped. And so did her stomach.
If the Sánchez Sisters were in the running to be the next lead act in the Big Top, Esmeralda didn’t stand a chance.
Pilar and Camila’s strongwoman act was mind-blowing.
And Pilar was a hound for attention. So was Esmeralda, but at least she had a good reason.
She didn’t just want to be the carnival’s next main act; she was desperate for it.
She had joined Carnival Fantástico ten months ago, which meant her time with the carnival and the safety it offered her were nearly up.
The rules to join the traveling circus were simple:
Earn your keep.
Always smile.
Never mix or mingle with officers of the law.
Do not let the ringmaster catch you stealing from guests.
You must stay for the entirety of one year.
Leave promptly, with no fuss, once your year is up.
Most importantly: The show, no matter what circumstance may arise, must always go on.
Esmeralda’s year with Carnival Fantástico was nearly complete, so she had to find a way to stay on.
Her savings, amassed from her fortune teller earnings and the valuables she’d slyly nicked from patrons, would be enough to venture to the southern port of Costa Mayor and book passage on a ship that would smuggle her out of the country.
But then what? She’d be alone and flat broke in some foreign land she’d never heard of.
She couldn’t let that happen.
She needed more money. More time. Because if she truly wanted to escape her miserable life in Costa Mayor and start somewhere new, she required a small fortune.
Being the next lead act would solve everything.
She could stay in the carnival for as long as she wished.
And when she was sick of being dazzling and beloved by all, she could take her riches and run away for good.
But she hadn’t received any sort of invitation for the Running.
Her heart sank. Did that mean she hadn’t been chosen to compete?
The ringmaster must’ve thought she wasn’t special enough.
And why would he? She didn’t have any sort of extravagant talents.
She couldn’t hold a candle to the other acts.
Hell, if she didn’t lie through her teeth half the time, no one would ever want her around.
Stop that, she hissed to herself. You don’t know you haven’t been chosen yet.
Perhaps her invitation was waiting for her at this very moment. Perhaps it was at her wagon, ready for her to squeal with delight.
She started to walk once more. This time, her steps moved at double speed. Camila’s long legs easily matched her pace.
“What do you think about us being in the Running?” Camila asked.