Broken People (Serial)

Forty-Seven

Anya's muscles were starting to cramp. That alone told her they had been gone for too long. Although she anxiously wanted to know what was going on, she didn't move. The statue act was second nature to her after playing it for so many nights, but it didn't mean she enjoyed it. She envied the menzataxor for its freedom, even while being chased by a giggling Rosie.

Unfortunately, people got bored when the menzataxor wasn't nearby. It wouldn't take them long to come up with silly ideas like asking the Nightingale for an encore. Anya was a ballerina—a great one, according to the critics—but she hadn't been able to sing a single note her entire life. Better let them think she was some kind of cyborg, like Robot Girl.

The minutes passed slowly, too slowly for someone waiting. From time to time, she locked eyes with Serioja, but he didn't know any more than she did. And, unlike her, he didn't mind taking a backseat and letting life pass him by. Life had broken him in more ways than that fall on the head had, and there were no prosthetics for the brain.

She saw the guards first, the navy uniforms moving at the periphery of her vision. Why were there suddenly more guards around? Who had called them? Something must have happened. Oddly enough, they didn't hurry right to the grand staircase. That gave her hope. Maybe they didn't know exactly what was going on. Whatever the case, they needed to be delayed. She had to buy Nicholas more time.

Picking up on her inner turmoil, the silver and obsidian of her mask swirled like crazy, making her face tingle underneath. Anya cursed Big Dino's order not to carry around phones. If she had had one, she could have asked the Nightingale to sing, and that would stop the navy coats' invasion. The device lodged in her throat had a limited range, but the Nightingale couldn't be too far away.

Serioja caught her eye and watched her intently as if asking what was wrong.

Anya glanced repeatedly at the guards. Do something! Stop them!

With a nod, Serioja signaled the stilt men to follow him. Dressed only in a yellow vest over his flesh-colored costume with muscles painted on it, he stepped out into the cold. It was time for the backup plan.

Millimeter by millimeter, Anya rotated her head to the left to be able to look out the window. Serioja was already up on the bar held by the stilt men, jumping, flying, and catching the bar with his bare hands. The height, twice as high as what they used at the circus, brought a frown to Anya's mask. Too high. A strong wind would send either him or the stilt men flying to the ground, and a fall from that height ... Anya didn't want to think about it. Even Rake and Spinner couldn't fix him after such a fall.

Several people had gathered to watch him, more lining up along the windows facing the yard. It looked similar to the show earlier in the evening, except the music, fireworks, and extra lights were missing. Too dark. A shiver spread down Anya's spine. Serioja was turning too quickly, putting on a show. The magnets in his wrists would prevent him from missing the bar, but all of that effort was wasted on an audience unable to appreciate the act's beauty.

Anya would have shaken her head if it hadn't been for her need to keep still. She made a mental note to scold him for his theatrics. She didn't need to worry about him, too. The situation was bad enough as it was, and it became even worse as the audience was getting bored, despite the clowns juggling glowing balls.

Serioja must have felt it, too, because he clapped his hands while still in the air before doing another flip and hanging by one hand.

The public parted on the right side to make room for Fei Lin. She stopped next to the closest stilt man and looked up. After the third revolution, she jumped. The robot couldn't fly, but a good impulse would bring it over the bar and land it on the other side. During the second jump, she found time to slap hands with Serioja, then do a flip of her own.

Show off. Anya rolled her eyes.

But it worked. The guards had stopped to watch. Too bad the diversion couldn't last. Someone was bound to notice they had gotten lost on the way and call them back to order.

Meanwhile, Serioja went on with the show. He became bolder, flying around the bar as if preparing for the end of the routine, which culminated with him sitting on the bar. What was the fool doing? He wasn't trained for this.

The clowns had dropped the balls and watched, their mouths open.

Serioja bowed at the crowd, waved in Anya's direction, and let himself fall.

Fei Lin jumped a second later, in a desperate attempt to catch him. Serioja turned in the air, and she missed him by a fraction.

Anya closed her eyes so she wouldn't see him crushing against the pavement. The crowd's roar confirmed that he had. Her mute cry passed unnoticed, and the mask sucked in the warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She didn't move. Nothing could touch the Swan. The guards were busy, dealing with the injured man, but that couldn't last, either. She needed to be there, ready to reveal herself if needed.