The Nightingale Circus by Ioana Visan Page B

hitting someone in the audience.
    But Riella didn’t need any help. She slid up
and down the red silks with her loose fiery curls dancing like a
flame around her. The technicians still fiddled with the lights to
get the maximum exposure, but she looked ready to take the world by
storm. Standing in two separate groups, Rake and Spinner, and more
to the side Serioja, seemed to agree as they stared with their
heads tilted back at the body covered in a flesh-colored suit,
moving close to the top of the conical roof, right below the golden
cage that enclosed the nightingale prop.
    “She’s good,” a voice said at his left.
    Nicholas kept his attention on the target but
risked casting a glance at Anya. She didn’t look upset, more like
resigned , the way she stood with her arms
folded and her chin set.
    “But I’m better,” she continued with a smug
grin when Nicholas didn’t say anything.
    “Are you trying to distract me?” he asked.
“Do you want her to fall?”
    “Oh, Nick, is that what you think of me?”
Anya rested a hand on his arm. “Come. Buy me some cotton candy. I
need cheering up.”
    “What about…?” Nicholas nodded in Serioja’s
direction.
    “They’ll be fine.” Anya waved a dismissive
hand.
    Riella was making a heart-stopping descent,
and once her feet rested safely on the ground, Nicholas let himself
be pulled towards the exit. Loud clapping exploded behind them.
    “So, cotton candy?” he asked with a raised
eyebrow.
    “Yes. And let’s get one for Cielo, too. She
kept her word.” Anya grinned wickedly. “I’ve still got better
costumes!”

The Rocket
Girl

    The raindrops trickled down Rake’s neck,
soaking his collar and adding to his discomfort. It was too early
in the morning, and all he wanted was to be back in bed with Riella
curled up against him. Instead, he followed Spinner on the path
between piles of abandoned cars and dismantled pieces of machinery.
The junkyard spread like a wasteland around them, a real gold mine
if you knew what to look for and where. Unfortunately, everything
was covered in a film of mud, and they didn’t have a map.
    To his right, Spinner leapt with ease,
despite the large tool bag attached to his belt, onto the roof of a
crashed truck. Due to the light rain, he held a hand above his eyes
while he checked his surroundings.
    “Anything?” Rake asked. The humidity in the
air acted like sand in his prosthetic joints. He glanced in
irritation at the metal debris all around, longing to turn on the
magnetic fields to provide some relief .
    “Uhh, I swear it was somewhere around here
when I looked from the top of the big wheel.” Spinner shifted in
place.
    The truck squeaked under his weight.
    Rake shoved his fists in his pockets, used to
Spinner’s lack of orientation skills. It didn’t matter on the
battlefield where they constantly received orders in their
earpieces, but there was no one to give them directions here.
    “Aha! There it is!” Spinner pointed at an
even higher pile of scraps. “Now, let’s see … we can go around to
the end of this line and take two turns or—”
    “We go straight through.” Rake climbed next
to Spinner and jumped on the other side of the truck before the
roof could collapse under them.
    They repeated the procedure three more times,
cutting across the junkyard until Spinner stopped in front of an
elongated hunk of metal tilted on a side. A victorious smile
distorted the web of white lines scattered across his face, turning
it into a creepy mask. “See, I told you it was a train car.”
    It would have been if any of the wheels had
still been around. The few windows were busted, but the walls,
despite the scratches and dents, looked solid enough. The circus
could use another car after losing two during the summer tour.
Reluctant to believe such luck, Rake pulled his wet shirt away from
his chest and walked closer to investigate. He squeezed inside
through an open doorway and pulled a flashlight out of