Chapter 10 River #3
submerged. Then the water lowered until it was back under the floor. Somehow everyone on the stage was dry, as if they’d never
been swimming at all.
“Wow,” River couldn’t help but utter.
“Just incredible,” Celine confirmed. She reached for River’s hand and squeezed.
The hope and possibility bubbling up inside River spilled over, and she grinned so wide she could feel the air on her teeth.
If they were different people, living different lives, this would’ve been something like a date. And River hated how much
she liked that idea.
On the stage, acrobats started tumbling in rows, running from opposite directions and flipping toward each other. They were
so precisely placed that they landed shoulder to shoulder, facing different directions before running off diagonally to do
it all again.
From the top of the tent, trapeze artists began swinging.
Along the walls, troupe members hung from ribbons of silk, spinning and climbing in dazzling synchronicity. The conjurated
music swelled. River could feel the tune pulsing inside her chest. She tried to savor the moment by making note of every single
troupe member’s contribution to this grand finale.
At the peak of the tent, high above the spectacle, she noticed something peculiar. A troupe member hung upside down by her
ankles. Her costuming indicated her importance—a tight-fitting bodysuit covered head to toe in crystals. Ones that would surely
dazzle once the light caught them. But she was above the light. Above the action. And she didn’t begin artfully spinning from
the harness around her ankles like River would have expected. She looked instead like she was flailing.
River squinted, trying to focus on the performer’s mouth. Was she saying Hall plea?
No.
Help me.
River looked around, all her wonder replaced with worry.
Surely there was another troupe member who’d noticed this.
But River could find no one on the stage paying attention to the woman strung up at the peak of the tent.
Everyone else had their own role in the performance to complete, and they were fully committed to doing just that.
Even if she’s stuck, at least she’s safe, River convinced herself.
The woman was probably supposed to plunge straight down into the heart of the action, stopped only by the tie around her ankles,
but the mechanism wasn’t working right. That kind of thing happened during shows all the time. More than anyone would ever
guess.
The woman was a professional. She’d know what to do.
Still, River couldn’t stop watching her.
That was how she noticed that the harness around the performer’s ankles was not only stuck, but it was fraying. And with every flail, the twine unraveled farther.
River didn’t remember teleporting. She only knew that one moment she was in her seat in the last row, and the next she had
her arms around the crystal-covered troupe member, holding her tightly as both of them flipped through the air together, neither
of them tied to any harness at all.
When they landed, River was faintly aware of the audience’s confused quiet. She was significantly more aware of the perilous
stinging in her legs from the impact of hitting the ground and of the stunned glances from the troupe members who had narrowly
dodged being squished by the two women.
All that mattered was River was on her feet, and she wasn’t hurt. More important, neither was the performer.
“What are you doing?” The performer faked a grin as she burned holes into River’s face through her crystal-covered eyelashes.
“Let me go!”
“I . . . You were going to fall,” River said.
The performer was still smiling, ever the professional. “Of course I was going to fall! It’s called a performance! And you’ve just ruined our grand finale! What is wrong with you? How did you even reach me?”
“No, no. You don’t understand. It wasn’t going to be your normal trick. Your rope was fraying,” River told her. “You couldn’t
see that, but I could. If you’d stayed up there any longer, you would not have fallen down the way you planned. You’d have
crashed headfirst into the stage.”
The performer’s anger was not quelled by this truth. Instead, she got even more upset, calling out to other troupe members
to have River removed from the stage. “You know nothing of what you speak!” the performer screamed. “You ruined my performance!”
River had nothing to say. No explanation to give. She’d let the spectacle of the night get to her head, believing for a moment
that she could be a hero.
The other members of the troupe closed in. Through hollow, angry smiles, they bombarded River with questions. Who are you? How did you do that? Who sent you? Was it the Clover Circus? The Illustrian Illusionists?
River closed her eyes and teleported away, thinking of the back row.
Naturally, she landed atop the last of Celine’s twist bun. Cheese sauce squirted into her eyes.
“You saved her,” Celine squealed, eyes alight as she grabbed River’s hand to help her up. “And you made it look so artful,
too! Everyone back here was a bit confused about what happened. I told them you were a part of the show. They couldn’t believe
a beautiful woman appeared out of thin air! But I could. What was that stage name you always wanted to use for acrobatics?
Fearless Flyer? It still suits you quite nicely. This is what you’re made for!”
“I didn’t save her at all. I ruined the show.” River swiped the cheese from her eyes, frustrated to find her tears mixed with the sauce. What a fucking embarrassment. “Listen, do yourself a favor and stop trying to convince me that I’m good.”
Celine flinched, her mouth hanging open in unguarded shock. “I only thought—”
River cut her off. “Exactly. You and your thoughts. You thought that you could treat me like one of your scribesheet investigations, trying to force your preferred narrative onto my story.
But there is no number of library books I could read or acrobatic shows I could attend that will ever change what’s true.
I don’t care what I told you when I was sixteen. I’m not sixteen anymore. I know the truth. I was born with an unpredictable
magic. I am meant for an unpredictable life.”
It stung to say it, more than River anticipated it would. She knew it to be true. She’d just lived through more proof that
her magic would only ever cause trouble. But there was still a reckless hope in her that refused to die without a fight—a
hope that Celine had instilled in River when they were teens and they’d whisper their dreams to each other in the dark.
“That’s not true,” Celine replied, her gaze intent. “River, you could have any life. You could have this one.” She gestured
to the tent. “I know it’s what you really want. That’s why I brought you here. There’s more for you than the guild.”
River put her face as close to Celine’s as she could handle. “You know nothing. I am an assassin, and I always will be.”
It was then that River registered what Celine had said. She’d called her beautiful. But River took no pleasure in it. She’d
made the mistake of believing this kind of fantasy once, when she’d hoped to become an actual member of her family’s troupe.
All that had brought her was pain.
Watching the Vestriyan Caravaners, River had made the same mistake again. She’d bought into the illusion. Up until a few days ago, River Pricemark never made the same mistake twice.
There would be no more entertaining Celine’s whims. River was not here to be a hero. She was here to restore order to the
guild. Nothing more.
“I’ll still be publishing a piece on the guild,” Celine said before River could teleport away. “I’m not stopping my story
for you.”
“Fine,” River said. “You already snuck information into your last piece. Don’t think I didn’t notice. So go and keep doing it.
See what happens when you continue. I certainly don’t care.”