Chapter 28 Ignacio
Ignacio
Twenty minutes before the Big Top show began, Ignacio was finally able to catch Jorge the tailor alone.
“I’m looking for a new costume,” Ignacio said. “Something that shows off my personality better than a weasel.”
The tailor tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “You’d be a magnificent albatross.”
Ignacio raised his brows. “A bird?”
“What about a schnauzer, then? It’s a breed of dog. Very regal. Rather smelly if left ungroomed.”
Ignacio chanced a sniff at his underarm when the tailor turned away to dig into his trunk of costumes.
Not smelly. He could stand to have a haircut, though.
But that wasn’t really important. Not when he’d seen this man holding a letter from his father.
Ignacio had to know what it said or at least where the tailor had taken it.
“Do you have anything more unique?” Ignacio asked. “Perhaps something in the back?”
The tailor perked up. He grinned. “Trying to impress our Paloma Blanca, huh?”
“Of course not.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Ignacio rubbed the ring on his finger in circles, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“She sure is a shining star, that one,” the tailor said.
She was. But not for the reasons the tailor and that ringmaster might have thought. Esmeralda’s soul, her presence, her fragile but brilliant heart—that was where her magic lay. But getting to see her truly was like chipping away at granite.
The tailor snapped his fingers. “I have just the costume for you.” He beckoned Ignacio to follow, which was exactly what he hoped for.
Trailing the tailor into a small office at the back of his tent, Ignacio asked, “How long have you been part of the carnival?”
“Six months,” the tailor answered. He started perusing the racks of garments.
Ignacio had changed his life six months ago as well. “What made you join?” he asked.
“I had gotten myself into a pinch in my hometown. Since King Amadeo decreed all prisoners under eighty be sent to war, I figured I should make myself scarce.”
“That first night I came, how did you know about my officer’s badge?”
“It was easy to spot. All you law keepers have the same sort of air about you.” He tapped his face. “It’s in the nose. Your type always has their noses stuck high in the sky.” He continued with his costume search.
“Do you see many officers enter the carnival?”
The tailor snorted. “Only the incompetent ones. No offense.”
“There was an officer here last night,” Ignacio said, keeping his tone light. “I believe she—”
“Ah!” The tailor snatched a garment bag from the rack. “This will do perfectly.” He spun around and shoved it into Ignacio’s chest. “This is exactly what you need.”
Whatever was inside was hidden behind the brownish tint of the bag.
“That will be twenty silvers,” the tailor said. He held out his palm.
“Costumes aren’t included for carnival staff?” Ignacio asked.
The tailor whooped an obnoxious laugh. “Nothing’s free here. Everything costs somebody something.”
“I…I don’t have any money.” Ignacio stepped deeper into the tailor’s back room.
There wasn’t much to it. A large table, a mannequin, an elaborate-looking sewing contraption, a standing mirror off in the corner made from the same dark glass he’d seen in the Big Top.
He thought of that face within the mirror.
Of the accident. The blood staining his hands as he rushed Pilar to the healer’s tent.
He tore his gaze away and said, “About the officer that visited last night.”
“If you don’t pay, then I don’t have nothing to say,” the tailor declared in a singsong fashion. He snatched the garment bag out of Ignacio’s grasp. “I definitely don’t have anything to say about a certain tall and rather bossy creature who entered my fine tent last evening.”
“I told you that I don’t have any money.” Ignacio’s gaze flicked to the dark mirror. He swore he saw a shadow lurking within.
“Then how about that ring?” the tailor suggested. “I’ve been eyeing it since you arrived. Are those little gemstones inside it obsidian, by chance?”
Ignacio clutched his hand protectively. It was all he had left of his mother. The ring meant everything to him. So much so, that he only dared give it to one other person as an offering of his deepest love.
But what did that matter if he could barter it and learn something that might help the Defiant’s cause?
And then there were the mirrors, the ink, the accidents happening with the carnival too.
He needed to find his information and get away before something else terrible happened.
His mother had been an esteemed commander.
She loved her country. She would have done whatever it took to end this farce of a war.
It was decided, then. The tailor was his only lead. Ignacio started to tug the ring free.
“Whatever’s in that garment bag shouldn’t be more than five silvers and you know it, Jorge.”
Ignacio’s head snapped toward the entrance.
Esmeralda stood before him in the costume she’d worn last night.
It was a form-fitting one-piece with silver and purple tufts of feathers on her shoulders and hips.
The entirety of her legs was showing. Her mass of thick black hair hung in gentle waves down her back.
“What are you trying to sell him?” she asked, sauntering deeper into the tent to join them.
Jorge stepped forward excitedly. “Only the most perfect costume for your new beau. It’s going to match yours splendidly.”
She didn’t argue about the title Jorge had given him like Ignacio expected. Instead, she dug her fingers into her hair and pulled out a small pouch.
He almost laughed. She still kept her coins tucked away inside her curls.
“I’ll pay you five silvers for it,” she said, her expression uncharacteristically neutral.
“Fifteen,” Jorge countered.
“Six. You’re a genius designer and seamster. You can make these costumes in your sleep. And that bag has been hanging there since before you even got here.”
The tailor whispered to Ignacio, “Hell of a haggler, this one.” Jorge thrust his hand out. “Deal.”
Regret crossed her face as she placed the silvers into the tailor’s palm.
“Whatever is inside, it had better be good,” she said.
“Have I disappointed you yet, doll?” Jorge asked.
“Everyone does eventually.” She grabbed the garment bag and thrust it toward Ignacio before taking his wrist. Her bare skin against his made his insides flip. She tried to tug him toward the exit, but he wasn’t finished with Jorge yet.
“Wait.” He turned to face the tailor. But Jorge was gone. “What? How?”
“You’re in Carnival Fantástico, remember? People are always disappearing and reappearing, even if you don’t ask them to. Besides, Jorge is the biggest swindler of us all. He probably wasn’t going to tell you anything anyway. The man’s wanted up and down the coast, and not for nothing.”
Ignacio cursed.
“Anyway, I desperately need your help.”
“Again?”
“Don’t get cocky now.”
“Why should I help you when you didn’t even meet your end of the bargain after I helped you with the ostrich cage?”
“I told you me, Gabriel, and ángel are innocent. Surely, that counts for something.”
His eyes narrowed. “The jury is still out on that.”
Irritation flashed over her features, but then she schooled them. She batted her lashes prettily and offered a beaming grin.
“What are you up to, Dovie?”
“You mean what are we up to.”
She pulled Ignacio through Clown Alley and into the Backyard—the backstage dressing area that butted up against the Big Top.
Music was thumping through the tent. The march of showstoppers was already starting.
Dozens of performers were lined up inside the cramped space that smelled of sweat and overly sweet perfume.
Some performers jogged in place and stretched, readying to join in on the procession.
A few people greased themselves down with oils that made their skin glisten.
Some helped each other dress while gossiping about whatever had transpired that day.
A few stayed back. Paco the Fire Breather sat on the ground with his legs crossed. His eyes were closed, and he was chanting something under his breath. There were others lounging on settees. Ignacio recognized them as the other acts still competing in the Running.
They passed by performers sitting before lit-up mirrors applying ample amounts of makeup. These mirrors were nothing like the ones that winked down at him when he entered the Big Top or the ones that lined the interior walls of it. These appeared to simply be mirrors, thankfully.
“I need to tell you something, and you’re going to think it’s strange,” he said as he and Esmeralda entered a dressing room.
“Don’t be angry when I judge you for it,” she replied.
Ignacio licked his lips, suddenly nervous. “Have you ever seen a face inside the mirrors in the Big Top?”
“That’s sort of the point of them.” She stopped him and took the garment bag. “Take off your clothes,” she ordered. “And do it quickly. It took me ages to find you. The march of showstoppers only lasts ten minutes, so hurry.”
“Pardon?”
She shook the bag. “I’m putting you in this.”
“But I don’t want to wear it.”
“Why were you planning on buying a costume if you weren’t going to wear it?”
“I was trying to get intel from the tailor.”
“A pity that didn’t work.” She unzipped the bag. “Now take off your shirt and pants.”
He started to because he was so used to taking people’s orders, but he stopped himself after he had already unfastened half his buttons. “Wait. What are you up to?”
“We are about to perform in the most important show of my life.”
Ignacio balked. “That is the absolute last thing I’m doing.”
“Don’t be so uptight.”