He paused again, and I couldn't breathe. Maske, Cyan, and Drystan all gripped each other's hands. I tried to read Cyan's face, but if she intuited anything, none of it showed. Taliesin glared past the Collective of Magic and Maske and his marionettes, his gaze resting on me. Now that his fear was gone, it was only rage, but impotent. I glared right back at him, my throat tight with fear and anticipation.

"The winners of the duel between the scions of the great magicians of Pen Taliesin and Jasper Maske are..."

Another pause. The tension in the audience rose. Everyone in the theatre, and all the folk out in the parks on the cold night, I was sure, held their breaths. My entire body tingled, and I could not take my eyes from his face.

"Jasper Maske, and his Marionettes: Amon Ayu and Madame Damselfly!"

My knees shook in relief. I sagged against one of the columns to the side of the stage, my face hurting from smiling so hard.

We did it. We actually did it.

"As I said, it was very difficult a almost impossible a to choose between two teams of magicians of such obvious talent and skill," Professor Delvin continued. "In the end, Maske's Marionettes won due to a slightly superior execution of tricks, a more cohesive storyline, and a truly spectacular finale. Well done to you all." He bowed to them, and they bowed in turn. I couldn't believe it. On the stage, Cyan wiped tears from her eyes, beaming from ear to ear, the grin echoed on Drystan's and Maske's faces. Maske stood straight and tall, a man come back to life.

Taliesin's face darkened with rage. I half-expected him to punch Professor Delvin in the face. Sind and Jac Taliesin, by contrast, were flabbergasted, their eyes wide and mouths open.

Taliesin and his grandsons shuffled to the left of the stage, still visible but no longer smirking. One of the twins looked like he might be crying.

The curtains of the stage pulled back again, and all of our props had been cleared away and the scenery changed to a painted canvas of the sunset over the ocean of Imachara Beach. My gaze rested on the section of the beach where R.H. Ragona's Circus of Magic had camped last summer.

But then someone came onto the stage. The Princess Royal walked toward Maske, straight-backed. She wore a royal smile a pleasant and distant a but her eyes sparkled. She held a small box in her outstretched hands. When she reached Maske, she craned her neck up at him.

Guards flanked the stage, and when I turned my head, a man stood next to me, flanked by more guards. I started as I recognized the Royal Steward of Ellada. I'd never seen him up close. He had a full head of gray hair and deep pouches beneath his eyes that made him look sleepy, though his eyes were bright and keen as black buttons.

"Who's this?" he asked his guards.

"One of Maske's stagehands, Sam," the other said without a pause, and my eyes widened, a shiver running over me. The Steward gave me a cool stare and looked back to the stage.

"Mister Maske, Madame Damselfly, and Amon Ayu," she said, and her small, childish voice carried throughout the theatre. "I congratulate you on your victory tonight, and offer you a small token of my gratitude for an evening of delightful entertainment." The words were rehearsed but I could tell she had indeed enjoyed the performance.

Maske took the box, bowing as low as he could.

"I thank you most sincerely, Your Highness," he intoned gravely. He opened the box, and within were three large pins set with diamonds and the emeralds of Ellada. The young, future queen asked them all to kneel, and she fastened the pins herself. She then bade them to rise, and they did, the pins sparkling on their breasts. My eyes shone with tears as I watched.

She inclined their head at them again. "Thank you again, Mister Maske. I look forward to perhaps seeing you and your colleagues perform at the palace someday."

"It would be a singular pleasure, Your Highness."

She smiled politely at him again and made her way off the stage, toward her uncle and therefore me. Her eyes met mine as she passed. "I recognize you," she said. My mind spun in a panic. Had I ever met the Princess Royal as Iphigenia Laurus? Only once, and she would have been far too young, only a toddler, to remember me among the crowds at her birthday party at the palace.

"You were the Chimaera ghost!"

Sweet relief flooded through me. "I am... I was, Your Highness," I stammered.

She smiled, and unlike the one on stage, this appeared genuine. "And you did everything backstage?"

"I did, though our friend Oli helped."

"Was it difficult?" she asked, and her voice lost that forced, royal cadence. She was like any other curious child.

I smiled back. "It was, Your Highness. I had to run around an awful lot. But it was a lot of fun as well, and very rewarding. I am so proud of my friends."

"I hope you will come and perform at the palace for me."

Mindful of the Steward and his cool gaze, I lowered myself to one knee. "We would love nothing more, Your Highness."

She grinned outright, and I saw she was missing a front tooth. She was so adorable I wanted to gather her into my arms for a hug, future monarch or no.

"Come, Nicolette, it is time to be going," the Steward said.

"Yes, uncle," she said obediently, her smile fading.

"Good night, Your Highness," I said.

"Good night... what is your name?"

I hesitated for a heartbeat, my mind scrabbling for a full name. "Sam... Harper, Your Highness."

"Good night then, Mister Harper."

I watched her go before turning my attention back to the stage. Professor Delvin and the other magicians gave short speeches about the merits of magic as entertainment and praising Maske for his performance. Taliesin had limped off the stage in disgust, but the two grandsons remained; it seemed almost cruel for them to still be there. Professor Delvin now listed the prizes: a sizeable cash sum a enough that we could renovate the theatre in full and still have plenty left over; full support of the Collective for new shows and performances; and, as mentioned, the wager of old was settled. Jasper Maske could perform magic and illusion with no hindrance, and Pen Taliesin and his grandsons would have to shut their doors. The Specter Shows would be no more.

I chewed my lip at that. One morning several weeks ago, I had broached the subject with Maske of what would happen if we won a if he would truly keep up his end of the bargain and ruin the boys' career.

"Why do you care?" he asked. "There's no love between the twins and you. Especially Drystan." The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement as he remembered the tale of the fistfight after the Specter Shows.

"No, but it's not their fault their grandfather is a tosser, is it?" I asked.

"No, I suppose it's not," was all he'd said.

I stared at Maske, hoping he would remember the conversation.

I willed a thought at him, wishing he could hear it: Be the better man.

I could not send it, but Cyan could. I felt her push the thought so that it whispered in Maske's mind. His eyes darted first to Cyan and then to me. I met his gaze.

When it was his turn to speak, Maske cleared his throat. "Thank you to everyone who has watched our performance tonight. I am overwhelmed with the support you have shown for us and for magic. I am ecstatic to be declared the victor." He licked his lips. "However, I wish to amend the wager slightly, if it is alright with the Collective of Magic, of course."

Professor Delvin frowned but motioned for him to continue.

"In the fifteen years I have not performed magic, it has been difficult for me, like missing a limb."

My eyes found Doctor Pozzi in the crowd. His mouth twisted at that turn of phrase.

"I thought that, were I victorious, I would delight in giving that same sentence upon others. That it would make me feel the stronger man. But, I have learned that it would not, and so I do not wish to ban Sind and Jac Taliesin from the Specter Shows, nor take their premises from them. The loss of such a wonderful spectacle would hurt Imachara and Ellada. What the world always needs more of is magic and wonder." He bowed to the audience, and then toward the Taliesin twins.

They looked at him in utter amazement, and bowed back in turn. They were so surprised that I wondered how much kindness they'd had in their lives.

Not much from their grandfather, that's for sure. He speaks to them like they're his servants. Or vermin, Cyan said.

Be that as it may, I still didn't like them.

The audience approved of Maske's speech and everyone applauded, and most gave a standing ovation. Maske, Cyan, and Drystan held hands and bowed again. People threw flowers and coins onto the stage. And then the curtains closed, obscuring them from sight.

I grinned in fierce triumph.

We won.

29.

THE KYMRI THEATRE.

"I did it. We did it. Somehow, these three came into my life, and now I have a life of performance and magic again. It still doesn't seem possible. I still don't feel as if I deserve it, for all my repentance. But tonight, after much wine and dancing, all feels well."

Jasper Maske's personal diary.

Maske threw open the doors to the Kymri Theatre. Many of the people he held seances for, the Lord and Lady Elmbark among them, came to celebrate. Some of the friends he still played cards with every now and again a for buttons instead of coins a arrived, bringing spirits and hearty smiles. Oli was up in Cyan's room, as the lump on his head had grown to the size of a clementine.

I told Maske what had happened in the carriage ride back to the theatre. The Eclipse was tucked into the pocket of my coat.

Maske sighed. "Can't say I'm surprised he tried something like that. Are you sure the boys had nothing to do with it? If they have, I'll rescind my moment of sentimentality."

"They're innocent," Cyan said, with a certainty only she could possess.

He nodded. "Seems I owe you even more of a debt, now."

I waved the gesture away. "It was selfish. We like living here."

He smiled.

In the Kymri Theatre, Maske was the cat with the cream. He could not stop smiling magnanimously at everyone. We held the party in the main theatre. The brass automaton stood on the stage, an angel watching over us. I had changed out of my stagehand gear into my stiff suit. I kept tugging at my cravat.

Cyan came over to me.

"We did it," she said.

"So we did. We made a good team there, with Taliesin."

"Aye, that we did." She tilted her chin toward the other end of the room, amused. "Look at Maske."

He was dancing with Lily Verre, the white of his smile visible from here. He looked twenty years younger. It all felt worth it.

"We saved him."

She nodded, and then she hesitated. "Anisa showed me what she showed you. Those visions with Ahti and Dev."

"Ah."

"Guess it's time to try and save more people, soon enough."

"That's us, heroes of the world in the making." I tried to keep my voice light, but it fell flat. "Drystan knows. He wants to help."

Cyan looked over at him. Drystan was chatting comfortably with Lord Elmbark, no doubt amused that the man didn't recognize the boy who once played with his son at his own apartments. "That's good. You care for him a lot, don't you?"

I paused. Life seemed better, brighter, with Drystan around. One touch and my fears quieted. One off-hand comment and he'd have me in stitches of laughter. Even when I'd first seen him in the circus when his gaze met mine, I had felt a spark. Now, I felt a flame. "Pretty sure I've fallen in love with him."

"Have you told him that?"

"No. Not yet."

"You should. He loves you too."

I blinked. "Have you...?" I tapped my temple.

She smiled. "No. I don't need to."

A rush of warmth flowed through me. I wouldn't believe her until I'd heard the words from his lips, but the possibility was sweet as sugar all the same.

Across the room, Drystan threw back his head to laugh at something Lord Elmbark said. I felt happy, and safer than in a long time. Much was to come, but tonight, at least, was celebration.

"Have you told Maske yet?"

She shook her head. "The right time hasn't appeared. He was always in his workshop, or with Lily, or..."

"Or excuses."

A corner of her mouth quirked. "Aye, excuses. What if he doesn't want me as a daughter?"

"Cyan, he's already shown how much he cares for you. He never considered anyone else for an assistant. He'll be delighted. You should speak to him."

She chewed her lip and nodded, leaving me. She tapped Maske on the shoulder, and he nodded at her question and they made their way to the parlor. I smiled.

Doctor Pozzi came up to me, holding two glasses of wine. He passed me one with his clockwork hand. I nodded at him and smiled, taking a small sip.

"Did you enjoy the performance, Doctor Pozzi?"

"Very much so. It was a piece of art. I thought you would be on the stage, though."

"No, I'm afraid not. I decided it's safer for me to be behind the scenes instead of in the limelight." I swirled my wine around in my glass. I didn't like the taste much.

"Perhaps it is, at that. Are you feeling quite well?" he asked, his brows furrowed in worry.

"I'm in perfect health, as ever, Doctor."