#fctc

Money missing from the ledgers was nothing new. Luc Poirier had been skimming from the top since long before he'd dragged her and Hendryk from the swamp a decade ago. But recently, it was getting harder and harder to hide the increasing amount of missing money in the ledgers. Fraudulent arithmatic may have been her strong suit, but the numbers were pointing to a worrying crimson flag that would alarm even the ever-optimistic Hendryk.

Or it would, if he would stop and listen for a moment.

"Hendryk, I'm telling you, something isn't right."

His axe slammed into the log, splitting it cleanly in two. "Luc's skimming is the worst kept secret in the carnival. Even Truffles knows about it, and she spends most of her day with her nose in the dirt. You're getting your tail in a twist over nothing."

"You're not listening to me. He's taking more and more every time, and he's disregarding the patterns we use to hide it! It's like he doesn't care if he gets caught anymore!"

He set another leg on the stump before dropping the head of the axe to the ground with a dull thump. His coal red eyes studied her as she paced back and forth in front of him, wringing her hands with every step. "Amara," he drawled, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "You're wearing a groove into my grass. Take a breath."

She wanted to stamp. To scream. To grab him by his curved horns and shake some sense into his thick skull.

Instead, she took a breath.

"You'll see," she warned him in a voice so quiet it forced him to meet her gaze. "Something bad is about to happen. I can feel it." With that, she turned and walked away, ignoring the way his eyes burned the back of her head.

It didn't take long. She'd no sooner snuffed the candle in front of her caravan when the door burst open. Hendryk's face was ashen rather than its usual state blue. "Necessities only."

Amara blinked at him, hands frozen in place over her half-undone braided bun. "What?"

He grabbed her arms.

"Hendryk, you're hurting me!"

He released her to shove an empty travelling pack into her arms. "Mother says Lolth is due her prayers."

Amara's eyes widened as her blood ran cold. She'd always known she'd hear their secret passcode to flee again, but here? Now? "Whats happened?" she gasped, throwing herself to her feet.

"Not now. No time." He grabbed things, seemingly at random, and thrust them into her pack - a toothbrush, a plush Octopus, a worn notebook. She joined him in his panic, throwing off her dressing gown to snatch the closest outfit. He didn't look and she didn't care. Apparently there was no time for modesty.

No sooner was her bodice buttoned than he threw her cloak over her shoulders. "Out the window," he ordered.

"Lantern!"

"Do you want to be followed? C'mon, we gotta go!"

He jerked the bay window open, knocking over a small stack of books. Amara clambered over the bench beside them and out the window. Her skirt caught on a splinter - she tore it free, leaving a patch of wool behind. When she paused to look behind her, Hendryk shouted, "Keep going! I'll catch up! Don't look back!" Her gut told her not to - told her to turn back and find him.

She kept running.

It didn't take long for shouting to reach her - not the angry shouts of pursuers but panicked cries. Once again her instincts urged her to stop, but she forced herself onward. Thistles tore at her ankles. Branches scratched her face and blocked her view. All around her, the sounds of the night pressed closer and closer, suffocating her.

She kept running.

It wasn't far to the river - perhaps a forty-five minute casual stroll, half an hour if the walk was brisk. Tonight, at a full sprint, it felt like hours. Amara collapsed onto her knees in the first dredges of water, soaking her skirt clean through. Her breath came in agonized wheezes. Each inhale burned her chest like hot sand. Her hands shook as she scooped some icy water to her lips.

But she couldn't focus on any of that. All she could think about was her brother. Where was he? What was taking so long to get here? Why had he rushed her away like this?

Was he okay?

As her breathing slowed, she realized that the air was stale, rife with mildew and a hint of smoke. The eastern horizon glowed crimson, but the suns had only set an hour ago. Fire? It had to be. The carnival was ablaze.

She had to go back. Hendryk's warning rang in her ears, yet her feet forced her upright, forced her forward. She couldn't leave him behind. It had always been the two of them against the world - leaving Hendryk behind was not an option.

The bushes before her rustled. She froze for a moment, staring into the darkness behind the leaves. "Hendryk?" she called softly. It could be him - but it could be something else. These woods were still wild, untamed by the local lord. It was just as possible that she was walking into the maw of a bear. Or a direwolf. Or a minotaur...

Thick red arms shot out of the bush. A large hand camped over her mouth, blocking her startled scream. The other gripped her bodice and jerked her into the bush. It pulled her flush against what felt like a muscular body and didn't let go. "Quiet," rumbled a voice in her ear. "Don't let them hear you."

Amara tried to thrash, but the man gripped her far too tight. Her teeth snapped fruitlessly against the hand over her mouth. Whoever this was much larger and stronger than her - was this the threat Hendryk had sent her fleeing from? The very thought sent chills across her body.

Before her, a wood elf barreled into the clearing. Even from behind, she recognized him as Luc's newest security guard, though she couldn't recall his name. She dug her nails into her attacker's wrist and screamed until her throat cracked.

His grip tightened. "Quiet, girl - that elf is not your friend."

The elf glanced around the clearing, his silver eyes sweeping over the bush she was sequestered in. See me! she silently pleaded, but he turned to stare over the river instead. A strange chirp interrupted his reverie, and from his belt he procured a flat slab of stone with glowing blue sigils etched upon its surface - a sending stone.

"Footprints stop at the river," he said into the stone. "It's possible she tried to cross here and drowned, but I find it more likely that she's following the river south to Boltangate."

The voice that responded, though distorted and crackling by the magic of the stone, was intimately familiar. Amara's heart leapt into her throat as Luc Poirier's voice echoed through the clearing. "She's brighter than you give her credit for, Eloetin. She's still alive. Follow the river. Don't come back without her or my money."

Her assailant held her until they could no longer hear Eloetin's footsteps, then released her unceremoniously. She staggered back to balance. It took a moment for her to realize that it was not a man that had grabbed her but a tall stout woman - one she recognized. Anne Twoorb stared down at her with no malice in her brilliant cyan eyes.

Amara took a step back, magic tingling her fingertips. The crimson half-orc before her had been working for Luc for years. Yes, she'd saved her from Eloetin - but what if she just wanted full credit for the capture? Her magic would be no good against Anne's natural magic-repelling skin. She was defenseless.

Anne raised her empty hands, her expression as stoic as ever. "I have no intention of turning you in. I know you didn't take the money."

"What are you talking about?" Amara demanded, taking another step back.

Before Anne could speak, another figure stumbled into their brush. Hendryk grinned down at her, ashes darkening his cobalt face. "I knew you'd make it. Had every confidence." He glanced up at Anne. "Anything?"

"Eloetin. He believes you are fleeing to Boltangate."

"Then we'll go north to Verthurst." Hendryk adjusted the sack in his arms. Amara shot it a frown - it was no travel pack and too heavy to merely be travel supplies. Surely it wasn't... surely Hendryk hadn't...

But before she could ask, Anne shoved another pack into her arms. "Go, before Luc sends more people after you. Move carefully, and leave no tracks. You carry precious cargo now." She gave Hendryk an affectionate pat on the shoulder and vanished down the path he'd come from.

Amara snapped her attention to her brother. "Will someone please tell me what is going on here?!" she demanded, hating the way her voice cracked and wavered. "You send me running through the forest in the dead of night - Luc's guards are after us - the carnival seems to be on fire! And now we're on the run, and I seem to be the only one who's been kept out of the loop!"

Hendryk reached out to brush an ivory curl from her forehead. "Amara, you're hysterical."

"Yes! I am! My entire life has been turned upside-down again, and this time, I don't even get the courtesy of knowing why! At least when we fled the Underdark, I knew why!"

Hendryk stepped forward and clasped her cheeks hard enough to pinch. "Amara. Do you trust me?"

"With my life." But the words rang hollow in her ears.

If Hendryk noticed, he didn't show it. He flashed her his trademark lopsided grin and hefted the suspicious bag to his shoulder. "Then let me handle this. I've got this. Let's go, before he sends someone else." He offered his hand.

"Wasn't that fantastic, folks? Let's give it up for the flying Twins, Jada and Jaden!"

The thunderous applause did nothing to ease the throbbing in Amara's temples. She patiently smacked away the hand of the preening elf that wouldn't stop fiddling with her costume. "Relax, Vaeri. You're rubbing all the glitter off."

Vaeri took a step back, flapping her hands anxiously. "Sorry, sorry! I just want everything to be perfect!"

"This is Carnival la Poirier. I think 'acceptable' is the best we can hope for."

Vaeri blanched.

Amara shook her head and patted the elf's arm. "Nothing is going to happen. The dress is perfect. It's not going to fall off, I promise."

Vaeri wrung her hands. "But what if your…pets…rip it open? Or the skirt catches on the platform? Or, gods forbid, a seam rips? Then it'll be my fault the act fails and Mr. Poirier will fire me and I'll have to go back to Boltangate to that awful seamstress and-"

"Vaeri!"

The elf froze midsentence, her pupils pinpricks in her violet eyes.

Amara clasped her cheeks in her hands. "Re. Lax," she commanded. "You're working yourself up over nothing. This is the finest dress I've ever worn. Besides, Luc would never have hired you if he didn't have every confidence that you produce quality goods."

Vaeri didn't need to know that this was a flat-out lie. Judging by the smile that spread across her face, she didn't. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely," Amara replied with a smile of her own. "Now shoo. Go watch your masterpiece from the stands. You'll get a better view that way."

She sighed as Vaeri scampered off, letting the smile slip from her face. Was now the time to admit that she was nervous too? Luc didn't take very kindly to people upstaging him, and her new act had the potential to do just that. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, but that only made her heart pound faster.

"When did you sign up to be the carnival morale booster?"

Amara turned to face her brother, wrinkling her nose. "You stink."

Hendryk grinned and threw his arms open wide. "Aw, you don't want a good luck hug from your favorite brother?"

She laughed and ducked away from his wriggling fingers. "Get away from me, you disgusting peasant!"

Just as he was about to grab her in his smelly arms, Goknar poked his head around the big top curtain. "If you could be so kind as to tear yourself from your brother's arms," he said dryly, "you're up next."

Amara shoved Hendryk away and dusted herself off. "I'm coming," she told the hobgoblin, ignoring Hendryk's grumbles from behind her. Goknar nodded and led her to stage left, just in time for Silva the Swan to exit. "Good luck," whispered the naiad in passing. Amara had only enough time to nod her thanks before the announcer raised his voice again.

"Aaand next up, we have a real treat for you fine folks! She'll bewitch you with her wondrous visions! Please welcome to the big top - Amara the Incredible Illusionist!"

She sashayed out to the center of the sandy floor to thunderous applause. At least she wasn't an early act that had to perform to awkward silence - small graces. She struck a graceful ballet pose as the magical spotlights shined on her and a suspenseful hush fell over the audience.

A slow, almost mournful tune began to play, echoing throughout the rafters of the big top. Amara raised her hands, clasped in prayer, toward the ceiling as sparkling snowflakes fluttered down. She twisted her hands in a complicated gesture, a dance of fingers. Her skirt and bell sleeves flowed in a wind no one could feel. With a flutter of her fingers, she slammed her palm toward the ground.

A burst of sparks and smoke erupted from the sand. Applause erupted again the sizzling lights faded to reveal a pair of shimmering tigers locked in an intricate waltz. The music raises to a lively jig. The tigers sped up into a Hartley two-step. After several beats, the music changed again, and the dance along with it. The crowd went wild.

But Amara wasn't done. She raised her hand to the ceiling again, the spotlight following. . The tightrope now held an opaque elephant balancing a unicycle on the rope, a tiny banjo in its front feet. It played a jaunty tune that had the audience clapping along in delight - and of course, the tigers danced along.

The best things come in threes. Amara spun around und threw her hands into the air. Sparkles exploded in the air, and when they faded, faeries flooded the room. They danced in the air, forming glittering images. At first, the images were simple - a bunny rabbit hopping around, a pair of birds flitting about a willow tree, a squirrel chasing a runaway nut. The children in the audience cheered the loudest.

But Amara was never satisfied with simple, not when she was capable of so much more. Throwing caution and her fear of Luc's jealousy to the wind, she increased the flow of magic to the faeries. The result was instantaneous - the next image was of a Baerth flying whale swimming over the audience with a pair of winged dolphins.

As the whale shifted into a herd of gallopping unicorns, Amara caught a glimpse of Hendryk in the wings. He flicked the side of his hand over his throat, the universal sign to wrap it up. Sne decided, against the warning bells in the back of her mind, to go out with a bang. With a roar that startled even her, the unicorns became a beautiful crimson dragon that spewed a gust of sparkling orange flames over the audience - they screamed with fear and delight.

The dragon exploded into illusory glitter that rained over the crowd. As they erupted with final applause, Amara staggered into the wings. Her legs shook so badly that she was simply glad that she collapsed behind the curtain instead of before it.

Hendryk didn't pull her to her feet. Instead, he knelt beside her, rubbing the space between her shoulders. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I need a nap and a steak dinner." That was an understatement. Her hands were numb from the amount of magic she'd pumped through them in such a short amount of time. Every inch of her skin tingled as her body worked overtime to regenerate her spent mana. Forget moving - it took a concentrated effort just to speak.

Hendryk chuckled and scooped her into his arms bridal-style. "Well, the crowd seems to think you did fine... but we know whose opinion really matters. Think you have what it takes to be the new headliner?"

"Maybe." Hopefully not, if she was being honest. She absolutely could not handle repeating this every night. Once a week was already a big maybe. Not that it really mattered - there was not a chance that Luc was going to let her supercede him as top act of the carnival. As fond of her as he was, having practically raised her after saving her and Hendryk from the swamps, he was still top dog at Carnival la Peirior. After all, it had his name on it.

"Well, well, aren't you full of surprises." Hendryk stiffened as, speak of the fiend, Luc Peirior appeared around the corner. He adjusted the gold cufflinks on his navy suit, pinstriped with matching gold stitches. "I always knew you were a quick hand with illusions, but goodness me, that was something else."

"Thank you, Luc." Were her lips supposed to be numb?

There was something almost sinister about the dragonkin's toothy smile. She tried not to take it personally - it was the same smile he always wore. "I need to take the stage. Go get some rest. We'll discuss your future at the carnival another time. Things are looking up for you, Miss Voren."

It was only after he disappeared through the curtain that Hendryk relaxed. He grinned at Amara. "Sounds like good news to me. Ready for a snack?"