Act IV

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Cruel applause filled the arena as Ari and Aria instinctively turned to each other. And Ari wondered if the same emotions were visible on his face as on hers – shock, followed by fear and an incoming sense of dread. He knew he felt the same.

There were several basic thoughts that filled Ari’s head at this moment.

The first: that the name was unoriginal.

Second: the name included ‘death’.

Third: against his express wishes, he was participating in a double act.

Fourth: the person with whom he was participating in this double act… was her.

Many other thoughts flitted through his head in the space of a second, but none of them could stick. And yet the basic outline of the situation remained –

They want us to perform together.

But no. It wasn’t want. Want involved some kind of freedom, and it was apparent that that wasn’t there. It was in everything – the hungry glare of the onlookers, the menacing sparkle in the Ringmaster’s eyes, the grip of his fingers around the cane in his hand. They were the chains that bound him now, and it was these that made his decision.

Ari glanced at Aria in the mounting panic, and caught a fleeting glance of her face. She, too, seemed to sense something was wrong – but she couldn’t begin to imaging the danger she was in, performing with him.

He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, but no words came out. They had no chance to make themselves heard before he was caught up in the arms of the performers, and dragged into the cage.

“Wait, what?” he protested, but no one replied. His cheek caught dry straw and his arm was smashed against the floor upon his ungracious entrance. Next to him, he could hear someone land against the floor, equally unceremoniously.

And then behind him was a clink, and the cage door slammed shut.

Shaken, Ari crawled to his knees, wincing at the shooting pain blazing in his arm. He made his way over to the bars, only to see the back of every performer, moving away from him.

He rattled the bars in anguish. “Hey! Let us out!”

“Let yourself out, Bird-boy,” was the only reply, followed by a chorus of laughter. They didn’t even have the decency to look at him.

Every person in the auditorium gradually filed out, leaving only a few stragglers remaining as he caught sight of a sandy-coloured head. He banged the bars again. “Tristan! Trist!”

Did the figure stop for a moment, or was that just wishful thinking? Either way, no friendly face looked his way as the tent slowly emptied, leaving them… alone.

Ari’s thuds slowly became weaker and less desperate, until only their echo remained. His hands slid down the bars as his body slumped, leaving him looking despondently out of the cage.

So this was what happened when you ran away to the circus, he thought. Or at least, that’s how it happened to him.

His eyes rested on the intricate lock on the door. He pushed the bars, just in case. Nothing yielded. He set to examining the lock. It was large and elegantly decorated; the type that was for show rather than security. Obviously, the average person would struggle, but Ari could have opened it with a sneeze.

But what was the point?

What was the point, he wondered, of escaping from one cage just to end up in another? His eyes trailed outside of the confines, to the majestic structure. You always thought you were moving somewhere better, somewhere where you could call yourself free. In reality, you just stepped out of one cage into a bigger one, still a prisoner.

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