Chapter 17 Esmeralda
Esmeralda
She had the appearance of a beautiful dove.
Ignacio, on the other hand, looked more like a pigeon that had been run over by a buggy.
Estefan’s stinky feathers stuck out at random angles from his sweat-slicked shoulders.
He wore a black strip of cloth across his eyes.
A rudimentary mask, but it was the best she could do given the circumstances.
But now Ignacio was pouting.
“Stop acting like a baby,” she said.
“You tore my only jacket,” he huffed.
“I needed something to make a mask. Someone might recognize you.”
He offered no retort. His muscular arms were crossed, and he was scowling at the quickly changing landscape.
A hundred or so rickety shacks stood around the outer edge of the city.
Children ran about the parade begging for food and water.
They wore tattered clothing. Some had on no shoes.
These sorts of settlements had been growing larger as the war continued.
With so many adults lost in battle, who would be there to take care of the little ones left behind?
Certainly not the king or his cronies. Queen Hermosa was rumored to be the only person pressuring the king to offer them shelter.
But the big-city elite fought her at every turn.
They preferred the nobodies be left somewhere out of their line of sight.
Esmeralda tugged off the clip-on earrings Camila had given her and tossed them to a tiny boy who stood alone, sniffling.
The costume jewelery probably wasn’t worth much, but it was all she had to offer.
She couldn’t pretend she didn’t see these poor souls as the procession went on.
Because she knew how it felt to be left behind.
Because she understood what it felt like to be counted as a nobody.
She caught Ignacio staring at the little boy as if he might be sick.
“Don’t like what you see?” she asked. “Don’t like what your father and his king have done to Costa Mayor?”
Ignacio met her with a hard glare. “I don’t.”
The small wheels that carried the birdcage hit a divot.
Esmeralda lost her balance. Ignacio’s hand shot out.
He clutched her arm, holding her protectively in place.
Her sightline was in perfect alignment with his torso.
Her cheeks went flush. His pecs were so symmetrical, they were truly a work of wonder.
“Eyes up here, Dovie,” he said.
Angry heat flared within her. “Don’t be so arrogant.”
“Hmph. Now…” He lifted her up and plopped her onto Estefan’s swing.
Lifted her up like she was nothing!
“What are you doing?” she asked, taking hold of the swing ropes to balance herself.
Ignacio rested both hands on either side of her hips. “I’m making sure you can’t get away or distract me. It’s time for you to keep your end of the deal. Time to answer some more of my questions.”
A seedling of worry sprouted inside her. Why did he have that menacing look upon his face? And why did his lifting her up like that have to be so cursedly hot?
“Why did you join Carnival Fantástico?” he asked.
“My personal life is off-limits.”
“I have feathers stuck to my skin. I helped you steal this cage. I think you owe me this in the very least.”
She scowled down at him. She had joined to get away from the officers hunting for her. To escape the comandante’s wrath. To forget Ignacio.
Her attention roamed upward to the city they were bumping toward.
It was so unlike what they just rode through.
The buildings were ornate and made from polished stone.
The streets were bursting with people in fine clothes that had been dyed in bright hues.
It was against the law to wear anything too outlandish, but that was how one knew a person came from wealth.
Only the rich could afford to pay the fines accrued by standing out.
The onlookers were jubilant as they waved their pretty flags made in the carnival’s colors. A giant billboard with glowing bulbs showcased some of the carnival’s attractions. At the very center, painted in scrawling letters, it said:
Who Will Be Carnival Fantástico’s New Star?
She returned her gaze to Ignacio. “I joined the carnival because I didn’t want to be a nobody anymore.”
Ignacio’s jaw flexed as if her answer had irked him.
The bell wagon leading the parade began the carnival’s signature ragtime tune.
A few more yards and the procession would be fully engulfed between the towering buildings of the city.
Not a single officer was in sight, even though the carnival was known for its speakeasies and for harboring fugitives.
But ángel’s alliance with the railroads and the towns they supplied was so strong that not even the king dared to soil their parade.
They were crossing the rim of the city limits. She had to come up with something to make herself stand out. She must get past this first challenge.
“Can you breathe fire by any chance?” she asked.
“Stay focused. I still have questions for you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“If you didn’t write to my father, then I need to find out who did.
My only clue is that they used a very peculiar blend of ink.
It has a dark undertone but glistens like a kaleidoscope in the light.
It can move and shift. Like the posters hanging in the carnival.
I know you know the ink I’m speaking of. ”
“Of course I do. The deck I use to tell fortunes is drawn up with this very ink. It’s enchanted. One touch, and it can reveal your hidden desires.” She wiggled her brows. “Care for a reading?”
“Who did you get the ink from?” he asked. “I…” He frowned. “I searched high and low for that ink this past year and found it nowhere but within the carnival.”
The past year? I thought he only recently started searching for whoever was writing to the comandante.
“How did you get it?” he asked.
“The cards show up in my curio cabinet before the carnival starts each night.”
“So, it would be the ringmaster, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. No one discusses where the magic comes from or how it works.”
“But you’ve used that ink before. You have personally written letters with it.” He said it like an accusation more than a statement.
“No. I haven’t.” She spoke slowly so each word would find its way to his brain.
He shook his head bitterly. “Are you so callous that you would forget?”
She barked a harsh laugh. “That’s funny coming from you.”
The cheers of the expectant crowd drew her attention.
People were shouting out the names of the other acts before her.
They called out for Camila and Pilar. They screamed when Paco the Fire Breather blew out a heart-shaped flame from his lips.
Anella the Contortionist—her float was situated right in front of Esmeralda’s stolen birdcage—was standing on top the rotating carousel and twisting her body into shapes that shouldn’t be legal.
Clearly, these acts were putting on their best shows.
They were in the Running as well and understood the stakes.
But none understood them better than Esmeralda.
She had to get the audience to love her. To force all the attention onto her so ángel would see how she shined.
Ignacio was trying to say something to her, but she paid him little mind. She couldn’t let Anella the pretzel one-up her. But no one was calling Esmeralda’s stage name. No one knew who she was.
That simply wouldn’t do.
She clambered onto her feet, the swing only slightly wobbling because Ignacio was holding it steady.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone exasperated per usual.
“Let go of the swing,” she ordered. “I need to put on a spectacle.”
But he didn’t budge. “We aren’t finished speaking.”
“Yes, well, as you can see, I have other matters to attend to at present. Now, move it,” she snapped.
“One more question and then maybe I’ll let you go.”
She started to complain, but she knew he wouldn’t back down. “Fine.”
“Why did you name yourself Paloma Blanca?”
Warmth spread across the apples of her cheeks.
He knew why. Of course he knew. But he wanted her to say it.
She hated him so much at that very moment. And she was mad at herself too. That after all the hurt he’d caused her, she still wanted a piece of him with her. A reminder of the love she once had.
“Doves symbolize hope, and all that nonsense people want from their readings.” She wiggled the swing. “Let go.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“That is the truth. Beat it before I knock you out again.”
“Dovie…”
Esmeralda groaned. “All right. Yes! I called myself Paloma because of you.”
“Why?” The word came out in a whisper.
“I…I don’t know,” she lied.
“Did you miss me?”
A sunburst flared inside her chest. She always missed him.
“No,” she said.
“Then why?”
“It was the first thing that popped into my mind. Now, let go of the swing before I make you.”
He smirked. “What’s the magic word?”
“Don’t be childish,” she snapped.
His fingers dug into the wooden seat.
He was such a pest.
She took a deep breath and said through her false smile, “Please.”
Chuckling, Ignacio stepped back.
Esmeralda pushed her feet out and in, slowly building momentum until the swing was in full motion. Anella was busy stuffing herself into a small glass box. All eyes were glued on her. Esmeralda had to do something quickly.
“I am La Paloma Blanca! Fortune Teller Extraordinaire!” she yelled over the cheering crowd. She raised and lowered her pitch to match the melody of the circus song. “I can tell you your fate or see how you and your lover will fare! Ask me anything. Ask me if you so dare!”
She didn’t have her cards to help her cheat her way through fortunes, but she’d make do. Still, no one paid her much mind. She cleared her throat and repeated the chant louder.
“I am La Paloma Blanca!
Fortune Teller Extraordinaire!
I can tell you your fate or see how you and your lover will fare!
Ask me anything.
Ask me if you so dare!”
Some people’s attention had begun to turn to her. She wouldn’t let this opportunity pass.
“You there!” she called down to the first person she saw that was an easy enough mark. He had a forlorn expression and was alone. “The spirits tell me you were stood up. Could this be so?”
The young man’s chin wobbled. He clutched a bouquet of baby’s breath against his chest and nodded.
“Do not be disheartened. True love awaits you. You’ve only got to be your sincerest self.” Unless he was the child of thieves. Unless he was a nobody. Then love was rather cruel.
The man gulped. But then a smile lit up his face.
“That was too easy,” Ignacio grumbled.
“Hush,” she snapped.
“You!” She pointed toward a woman with splotches of paint in her golden hair. “The spirits tell me you are an artist. I can see your passion so clearly. Keep going, doll. Your big break will come!”
“Ridiculous,” Ignacio huffed. But the woman appeared happy as could be.
“Pick me!” someone called.
“No, pick me!” another yelled.
“Me!”
A swarm of people chased after the birdcage as it bounced down the cobbled city road.
Most of the women wore ritzy garments with elegant cloche hats.
The gentlemen sported smart suits perfectly tailored to their forms. The way they jogged beside her float, one would think they’d make capable soldiers.
But no, that role was only for those who couldn’t afford to pay for a way out.
She stomped down her bitterness. Now wasn’t the time.
She still had to pass the challenge. She had to prove how versatile she was.
“I will open my fortune teller’s wagon tonight as soon as the sun sets. Come and see me, dear friends.”
As the bells clanged, she started to belt out a different song, keeping in tune with the carnival’s melody.
“I’m Paloma Blanca, Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.
I can tell you if you’ll find riches.
Or lose all your hair!”
The crowd laughed.
“I’m Paloma Blanca, Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.
I can tell if you’ll get that promotion.
Or need to search for a job somewhere.”
No one really laughed at that one.
She cleared her throat and tried again.
“I’m Paloma Blanca, Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.
The spirits speak to me often.
Even when I’m just in my underwear.”
This had the audience howling. It wasn’t even that funny, but she went with it.
“Tell the ringmaster how wonderful I am, so he never forgets!”
The audience cheered and clapped for her as she swung. They made Esmeralda feel as if she were a queen waving down at her subjects from a high tower.
“There’s no need to tell the ringmaster!” a voice boomed over the onlookers.
Esmeralda gasped. ángel was there, standing amongst the throng. How had she not seen him? He so easily stood out with his striped pants, his gleaming jacket made in the shade of amethyst, and velvety top hat.
He raised his arms wide. “For your ringmaster is right here!”
The audience hurrahed and whooped and begged for autographs.
ángel winked in her direction before disappearing in a puff of glittering smoke.
Esmeralda could do nothing but smile. Surely, she had impressed him this day.
A shriek rang out. Someone screamed for help. The parade came to a jarring halt. Esmeralda lost her grip on the ropes and flung forward.
Ignacio caught her around the waist before she face-planted into the metal bars. The momentum of her weight slamming into his arm squeezed the air out of her lungs.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his breath tickling the back of her neck. The sensation brought on a storm of chills. She couldn’t handle him being so close.
“Let me go,” she hissed. “King’s toes.” She scrambled away from him. “Did you have to catch me so aggressively hard like that?”
“You’re welcome,” he deadpanned.
She adjusted her costume. “I would have caught myself.”
“Sure.”
“She’s suffocating!” a woman shrieked. “Somebody, please help!”
Ignacio’s head whipped in the direction of the scream. Three carnival hands were clambering onto Anella’s float. Her hands were banging against the glass box she’d stuffed her body into.
Esmeralda gulped. “She’s trapped inside.”
Ignacio shoved her aside and slammed open the cage door, running off to assist.
Bitter jealousy stung inside her chest. Of course he’d try to help Anella. But why did it always feel like Esmeralda was the first one to be pushed away whenever Ignacio Olivera had something more noble to do?