Half an hour after
the show ended, the circus announcer, a heavy man with a green-tinged
complexion and dark patches spread over his skin, huffed and puffed his way
inside. “If this is your way of catching a free ride—”
“I’m not catching a
free ride,” Nicholas said, standing up from his box, though he would have to
settle for that if his plan failed. The man had brought no reinforcements, and
that said something. He wondered what it meant.
“What do you want
then?”
“A job. I’m your new
magician.”
The man gave him an
up and down look. “We don’t need a magician. The audience these days is too
clever for cheap tricks.”
“Not like my
tricks.” Nicholas pressed his hand on an empty spot on the wall, and when he
removed it, its outline remained clearly burned in place.
“Don’t damage my
property.”
Grinning, Nicholas
ran his palm over the same spot on the wall. The mark vanished.
(The Nightingale Circus Collection - The Magician)
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