Flames of Revenge

Circus Folk

March 4th 1872

CLARA AND JOSHUA DEVEREAUX

Eight days before the fire.

"Please let us stay."

The ringmaster, a distinguished middle-aged man named Wesley, twirled his moustache and inspected Joshua and Clara with a mixture of irritation, pity and suspicion. They were pitiful little things, and Wesley had no idea what to do with them. Should he agree to their pleading and let them stay, or was it better to just tell them to bugger off?

They had sweet faces. The two of them would surely prove to be popular among the audience. They had talents for acting, he could give them that much. Their performance was certainly entertaining. The ringmaster, being a businessman, was not about to waste an opportunity like this.

He was just about to agree to their request, when a thought suddenly came into his mind. What if the children's parents came looking for them? What if there was a misunderstanding, and they thought that the children had been kidnapped by him and forced to work against their will? The ensuing consequences and police investigation could ruin him; perhaps even send him behind bars. This was a risk he simply refused to take.

"You're orphans, you say?" Wesley was suspicious. They were much too well-spoken and well-dressed to be orphans. But if that's what they claimed, surely he wouldn't get in trouble for it? This made it easier. This way, if anyone asked, he could say that the children had like to him and that he didn't know any better.

"Yes, sir," said the girl. "Please take us in," she begged, "Please, we'll do anything."

The ringmaster's mouth twitched slightly. They were certainly putting on a good show.

Despite his greed and cold exterior, the ringmaster was a kind man at heart. In the end, it was pity for the two children that convinced him to let them stay. They looked so sad and wretched, both of them, as if they would rather do anything than be sent back.

"Very well," he sighed at last, "Go find Anderson the magician. His wagon is the third one from the end. Tell him that I've found him two new assistants for his show."

For a moment, Clara and Joshua were speechless.

Then, wide grins appeared on their faces as the truth sunk in. "Thank you, sir!" Joshua grinned, "We are ever so grateful for your kindness." It was so much more than they could have hoped for.

The ringmaster sighed wearily. "Shoo, now. Get out of my sight. I have on my plate already without having two small, overenthusiastic children to worry about."

Joshua and Clara grinned at each other, before running off in the direction that the ringmaster had pointed them towards.

Anderson's wagon was painted black, with many mysterious and magical-looking symbols drawn all over it. The twins were fascinated by the intricate paintwork. They'd certainly never seen anything like it before in their lives.

Joshua and Clara exchanged looks of anticipation, and Clara took a deep breath and knocked timidly on the door. Nothing happened.

Perhaps she had been too timid. Clara knocked again, louder this time.

After a moment, the door opened and a tall man, wearing only an undershirt and trousers, answered the door. He stifled a yawn and rubbed at his eyes, regarding Clara and Joshua with some irritation.

"For pity's sake," he said crossly, "How hard is it to catch up on some sleep around here? Next show isn't for another hour. Come back then."

The man was about to slam the door on them, but Clara grabbed his arm and stopped him.