Category: Wondermere

EPISODE 10 of 12 – Sleight of Hand

NOTE FROM THE WRITER:

You will notice a change of direction in the way this episode is written from the rest. Namely, the POV and perhaps even the time is different from the previous episode. That is because, moving forward, each episode will be told from the POV of a particular character and occasionally that POV might happen earlier than when the previous chapter ended. Case in point, this episode begins with Ms. Pomory making her way to the Hangman’s Theater.

Apologies if this seems jarring to you, the reader. I intend in going back to the previous episodes and making this key change to the episode POVs so that the story, when complete, will make sense and flow much better.

TOLD FROM THE POV OF MS. POMROY

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Earlier the Same Night

“Evening, Ms. Pomroy,” Jones said, bowing as he opened the carriage door. She had the same driver for years now but it changed nothing. Staff were to address her as Ms. Pomroy and she would see to it that they remained employed, thereby taken care of. 

“Hangman’s Theater, Jones. And see to it you get me there in one piece this time. Last time we went out in the evening I thought I could barely keep my food down.”

She was right to reprimand Jones. He was rather preoccupied by his older brother who returned unexpectedly, looking for money. Lucky for Jones their journey wasn’t very far, otherwise, an upset stomach might’ve been the least of her troubles.

Jones slammed the door behind her and climbed up onto his seat. He grabbed the reins and readied the horses for their journey through lower Wondermere. Inside the carriage, Ms. Pomroy gripped a letter tightly in her hand and read it over and over again, mouthing the words to herself:

“I know who has the deck. You can’t protect her forever.”

There was no signature but it wasn’t necessary. Ms. Pomroy knew exactly who sent it. She just hoped she could get to the theater in time.

When the carriage finally arrived at the Hangman’s Theater, the coachman quickly opened the door for Ms. Pomroy. “You could’ve gone just a little bit faster, Jones.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, keeping his head bowed.

“Wait for me around the corner. I won’t be staying for the entire show tonight.” She smiled brightly at the patrons standing outside of the Hangman’s Theater waiting patiently to get inside. Whispers could be heard from the gawkers as they couldn’t believe they were seeing Ms. Pomroy there. She was well known to many as the caretaker of the colosseum. It was also believed that she always maintained an air of neutrality when it came to the acts that performed magic in Wondermere. It just wasn’t her place to dabble in the politics that clearly went on behind the scenes. But she didn’t care who saw her just then or what they were thinking. 

“Tabby? Uh—I mean…Ms. Pomroy,” Mr. Dingle stammered as he approached her. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”And it was indeed unexpected.

“You mustn’t appear so flustered. I am merely here to cheer on a close friend that I hear is performing tonight,” Ms. Pomroy said, continuing to hold her smile even though it was hurting her face. She can’t recall ever having to smile this much in her life.

“Ah, I see,” Mr. Dingle said, furrowing his eyebrows. He was thinking of all the acts on the bill and he couldn’t quite figure out which of them she would be be familiar with let alone so friendly that she’d risk attending a show. “Well, I will make sure you are well taken care of. Only the best for such a…close friend.” He bowed and walked backwards out of her sight and back inside the Hangman’s Theater. She could hear him shouting to an unlucky staff member who happened to be passing by to prepare their best table for an unexpected arrival.

Once inside Ms. Pomroy quickly looked around. Either she would encounter the person the letter was about or the author of the letter.

“Ms. Pomroy, it is a pleasure. Are you staying to watch the shows?”

Ms. Pomroy turned around, surprised to see Jan standing before her. “Jan? If you’re here then…,” she said, stepping forward to lean in and whisper in Jan’s ear so no one could hear her. “Where is she?”

Jan pulled away and smiled, clasping her hands around Ms. Pomroy’s. “Now, Ms. Pomroy, you know I can’t reveal a magician’s secrets,” she replied loudly, causing those lingering around her to stop and turn. “You’ll just have to be left to wonder like everyone else.” Jan let go of her hands and walked away, putting up the hood of a cloak she wore and leaving Ms. Pomroy to contend with more gawkers shocked to see her there. 

Ms. Pomroy was hoping to go undetected longer but now that would be impossible. She silently cursed Jan for setting her up and wondered why she did it. There was nothing left for Ms. Pomroy to do but smile at the many patrons around her as she made her way into the main room where the stage was to find her seat.

It seemed her table was yet to be brought out from the back so she was forced to stand around while others entered and took their seats at various round tables. 

The Hangman’s Theater wasn’t designed like most other theaters. They made their money from the food and drinks offered so while others had no tables to sit at and instead tried to cram as many patrons through the doors, making money from the cost of entry, the Hangman required reservations and assigned seating. A much more civilized affair indeed. In truth, Ms. Pomroy wished all theaters were this way. She couldn’t abide the idea of people pressed up against each other for an extended period of time and had this chance encounter needed to happen at another theater she likely would not have attempted such a meeting.

“Tabby Pomroy? What brings you here?”

The Great Davoren. Or, as Ms. Pomroy affectionately thought of him, ‘the famous arse.’ She put on as fake a smile as she could easily muster and extended a hand for him to shake. “I heard you would be here. You must be honored to have been invited by the king to give an opinion on a potential act for this years event?”

In truth, Ms. Pomroy was less interested in his answer and more in what she knew was hidden away somewhere on his person. Davoren smiled back. Another strain on another face. The writer of the note she kept concealed on her person.

“Oh, I am deeply honored. As you know, having favor with the king is what keeps you alive in Wondermere?”

“Is that so? I thought it was keeping your hands off his daughter. I’ve always wondered why that is. Is she just not your type?”

“You know me too well, Tabby. What would I want with a woman of brains and beauty? My light burns brightly for you.”

Tabitha wished she had an equally cruel remark to say back to him and would have done if they weren’t interrupted by Mr. Dingle who saw them speaking and could tell by their body language is clearly was not an pleasant conversation.

“Great Davoren, sir. Your table is ready. Apologies, Ms. Pomroy, the traffic backstage is immense, as I’m sure you know already. Your table will be out shortly,” Mr. Dingle said, trying to point The Great Davoren away from Tabitha and towards his table.

“I insist you sit with me as my guest, Tabby,” The Great Davoren said. “And I won’t hear argument against it.”

Tabitha returned the smile but even Mr. Dingle could tell she much rather drink a tall glass of nails. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said, and hooked her hand in his arm so he could walk her to his table. 

When their backs were to him, Mr. Dingle crossed himself and looked up to the heavens in prayer that the night would not go as horribly as he was already predicting.

Davoren pulled out a chair for Tabitha and she sat, rather hesitantly. She didn’t put it past him to pull the chair out from under her. From her past experiences dealing with him, she knew he was never to be trusted.

Before Davoren could sit down next to her someone come up to him and whispered in his ear. Tabitha busied herself with a napkin, pretending not to notice, all the while straining to catch what was being said.

“…are you sure?” Was all she managed to catch from Davoren before the person speaking to him nodded. He turned and smiled down at Tabitha. “If you will excuse me. I have some urgent business I must attend to before the show begins.”

A true gentleman would’ve bowed or at least waited for the lady to acknowledge their departure from the table, but Davoren was no gentleman. He was gone before Tabitha could press him for information.

While Tabitha waited for the show to begin she fielded the occasional hello from those who past by her table. It was highly unusual for her to be there and although she would’ve preferred no one know she was there so as not to arouse suspicion that something was going on, she thought perhaps she could use this level of attention to her advantage. 

Davoren returned, looking a bit rough around the edges and sat down gruffly at the table, forgetting that Tabitha was there. The person who whispered in his ear earlier joined him and sat to his right, only managing a small smile at Tabitha.

“Everything alright, David?” Tabitha asked. She knew calling him by his real name instead of his stage name in public would only make him angrier than he already was.

He turned to her, daggers in his eyes, and smiled, though Tabitha could feel him eyeing her neck to wring it. “Oh, of course. Everything is just fine. And I’ll kindly remind you never to call me by that name in public. I’m surprised at you, Tabitha. I expect better from you.”

“Temper. Temper. Wouldn’t want your fans see you so upset, now would we,” Tabitha said, then leaned over to whisper, “I got your little note. I won’t be threatened by you or anybody.”

Davoren was about to respond when the lights suddenly went out and the host came out on the stage and a spotlight was shone on him. With the show about to begin, Tabitha acted quickly. She knew she only had minutes to retrieve the notebook and make a quick escape. She sat very still beside Davoren and just moved her eyes, trying not to move her head too much, as she could see out the corner of her eye that the person sitting on the other side of Davoren was eyeing her suspiciously.

Tabitha managed to look down and could see, tucked inside Davoren’s unbuttoned shirt, a notebook. She guessed it must be the codex. What else could it be? But how she was going to get it from him without his noticing was going to be the hard part.

The curtains on the stage opened to reveal the first act. The house lights remained off, and only the stage was illuminated. She turned her head away from Davoren and his other guest and caught a sight of someone she recognized who was watching the act from just off stage. She furrowed her eyebrows and ran through her mind the many familiar faces she knew to try and pinpoint who she had just seen. When she looked back they were out of sight.

She needed a distraction. Something that would give her enough time to take it and then leave in the chaos. Mr. Dingle wouldn’t appreciate that sort of distraction on such an important day for him and his theater, but sacrifices had to be made. She was sure she could explain and make it up to him later. While the magician was deep into their magic trick, Tabitha took that opportunity to slip away from the table. She looked back only once to make sure no one had noticed. Not even the person seated next to Davoren, who seemed to be tasked with watching her every moment, seemed not to notice her absence from the table.

She moved to the far wall and started to make her way towards the back of the hall where she could just make out Mr. Dingle, watching the show as well. She raised her hand to get his attention when the host came on stage to announce the next magic act.

 “Ladies and gentleman. It appears we have a change in tonight’s performance. Maranigan the Magician will be performing…” the host paused and Tabitha could see a bead of sweat on his forehead, “the Vanishing Woman.” The crowd gasped and the host ran offstage.

Tabitha looked back at Davoren who was already out of his seat, seething with outrage.

“Damn it,” she whispered trying to get back to her seat, hoping she could intercept him before he was gone but it was too late. By the time she got back to the table, Davoren was gone and the magic act was beginning.

The Vanishing Woman, everyone knew, was Davoren’s great trick. Every great magician has one that they perform best, leaving the other magicians to wonder how it’s done and try their best to emulate it. Others have tried. All have failed. Tabitha sat and watched, but not at the magic act itself, instead at the magician and his assistants who were helping him.

She couldn’t help but grin to herself when she realized who were onstage. Especially the oversized female assistant who was about to enter into a box and vanish. 

When the trick worked and the crowd roared with excitement, Tabitha again rose from her table to follow where she assumed Davoren had scurried off to, backstage. He knew how the trick was supposed to go and probably wanted to see if this act had figured it out.

Backstage she witnessed what she knew to be an obvious sleight of hand trick. If Davoren had been paying attention he might’ve realized what was just taken from him but he was too busy berating poor Mr. Dingle for the incompetent staff and demanding to be let into a room that obviously led under the stage. Tabitha watched as the woman who vanished and a gentleman walked around a corner and out of sight. 

“What are you doing back here?” Davoren asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. Aren’t you supposed to be out front watching the acts? Not back here trying to steal their secrets.”

The host could be heard back on stage about to announce the next act and Tabitha left Davoren behind with Mr. Dingle trying to explain why he needed to return to his seat. “…what might the king think if it got back to him that Davoren wasn’t present for the entire show…”

Tabitha stood outside a dressing room where she could clearly hear giggles inside. She knocked on the door before letting herself in.

EPISODE 9 of 12 – Sleight of Hand

The Hangman’s Theater is hosting several black letter recipient magicians to perform for a chance at the largest stage in Wondermere. A once in a lifetime opportunity and Jan has procured an opportunity for Charisma and friends to perform but for reasons that have little to do with winning a contest. Will they get what they came for?

TOLD FROM THE POV OF FELIX

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Three vertical pieces of wood held together by a black metal frame, scraped and scratched over time from all kinds of weather, swung back and forth on a pole in the side of a building teeming with people waiting entry. Carved into the wood was a dangling man with a noose around his neck. Long hair concealing his face. His toes pointed downward. Forever in a state of not quite dead with every sway of The Hangman’s sign.

Two lanterns on either side of the entrance were lighted as the sun began to set. Already there were at least two dozen people standing in line waiting to get inside. News traveled quickly that several magic acts performing this evening were in possession of black letters. These letters were not easy to come by. They were a magic acts ticket that would bring them one step closer to performing at the colosseum. To receive such a letter was an honor. It meant the hard work of a magic act was brought to the attention of the king and he had chosen this act to receive a spot.

It was the right time for invitations and for new acts trying to get their opportunity under the spotlight to get recognized. This is also a time for smaller theaters and venues that host magic acts all year round to make their most money. Any theater hosting a black invitation magic act was assured a sell out evening and usually runs out of food and drink before the end of the night.

The Hangman’s Theater hadn’t had the pleasure of a black letter performance in several years but they were more than ready when Jan alerted them to her recent invitation.

The doors were not open yet as the owner of The Hangman’s Theater was able to acquire more tables and chairs to cram in extra patrons, making sure to leave plenty of room for the judges who would be watching and scoring from the best spot in the house. 

Mr. Dingle in his finest clothes, a suit he hadn’t worn since his wedding day more than a decade ago, made sure not to breath too deeply or bend over as he made his way from the stage down to the main floor towards the entrance. As he passed them by his staff all looked up and made sure to smile at him. Minor assurances that everything was going just fine. Not a hiccup would happen tonight.

Jan wore a long black cape, a hood up over her face, waiting by the entrance just out of sight. “Is everything as we discussed?” She asked Mr. Dingle.

“Yes. Oh yes. Decidedly so. Yes. Heavens above. I can’t believe the Great Davoren will be in attendance.” Mr. Dingle was older than Jan, a rotund belly that struggled under his vest, the buttons nearing the moment of popping as they barely held together. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket to mop away the sweat. Were he to wring that handkerchief he would have enough to fill a cup. The few strands of hair he had atop his head he smoothed down to one side, over his bald spot. He licked his fingers to smooth it down even more. A shine under the lantern lights made his bald spot that much more noticeable but Jan didn’t have the heart to tell he friend.

Mr. Dingle kept her secret about living her life as a man in order to keep her family business and livelihood from being taken by the king and their family. In truth, Mr. Dingle and his wife were unable to conceive and he looked at Jan, though she was less than ten years his junior, as a daughter. That didn’t stop his nerves from getting the better of him.

The last time Mr. Dingle and The Hangman’s Theater hosted a black letter magic act, it didn’t go well at all. The stage wasn’t designed to the specifications that the act required until the day of the performance. This gave them no time to rehearse and confirm their set would work the way expected. When the act wasn’t invited by the king to perform at the colosseum due to having received one of the lowest scores by the judges, it rendered The Hangman’s Theater as a curse within the community. 

So, when Jan was able to receive the black letter she knew exactly where she wanted to perform. A chance for her dear friend to regain some respect within the community. It changed nothing for those outside who were busy speculating about what might go wrong. 

Up until tonight the theater was the only one in Wondermere that hosted everything except magic. Normally, a theater that never had magic on the bill would be put out of business. But with the help of Jan and the other performances they managed to book they’ve been able to remain afloat.

“Mr. Dingle, you must remain calm. I am sure everything will work out fine tonight. Besides, we have a plan remember?” He nodded at her and smiled. He knew that while a performance would be happening on stage, the most important thing would be what was happening behind the stage. They only needed their act to capture the attention of the audience for a short while and none of their proposed magic would require the stage to do anything special or different.

He took a deep breath. “Quite right. Quite right. Do you need me for anything else? Otherwise, I think it is time to let them in.” Mr. Dingle looked at his pocket watch. It was nearly six o’clock, which meant the show would need to begin soon.

Jan asked that the bill remain as it was intended for the evening. This would give her and the others time to prepare before they performed The Vanishing Woman for everyone. Their whole plan hinged on this trick and the Great Davoren’s ego.

“No, my friend. You have done brilliantly.” Jan retreated through a secret passageway that allowed staff and acts who used the theater to move about unseen by the customers. It was a rather narrow walkway from the front of the theater and let her out backstage, right by the kitchen.

The kitchen is where Mrs. Dingle spent her time. She was too old to stand long enough to cook like she used to in the early days of the theaters existence, but she sat on a stool and observed, making suggestions and barking orders to anyone and everyone who passed by her.

The head chef knew better than to step on her toes, after all she was the one who gave him the job and he needed it more than anyone else there. The staff made sure not to give her reason to yell at them, keeping their heads down and staying at their station.

Jan watched Mrs. Dingle, her long gray hair pulled back to show the stern expression on her face. The way her eyes darted around the kitchen watching everyone as they moved with precision, working together. It was her attention to detail that Jan marveled at. Nothing got past Mrs. Dingle. Nothing that is, except for Jan. She was unaware of the lie that Jan was portraying to the world and though it pained Jan to have to keep it from her, there was a fear that it would reach the ear of the king should Mrs. Dingle ever find out. After all, Mrs. Dingle is a distant cousin of the Conroy’s, the ruling family, and with that honor comes an open ended invitation to the castle whenever she wishes. 

Before Mrs. Dingle could notice, Jan slipped past her. Mrs. Dingle felt the presence of someone near and smiled knowingly at the sudden disappearance down the hall.

When Jan emerged in the backstage area there was shouting and dozens of people moving about. No one really paid her any attention. Everyone was far too busy preparing for the night’s show to begin. She managed to weave her way through the stagehands to the room where she left her associates earlier.

“And where have you been?” Felix asked, hands on his hips, staring daggers at her. She wanted to take him seriously, truly she did. But it was difficult to do when he was dressed as a woman in a frilly dress with a wig that never quite sat straight on his head. It wasn’t for lack of trying, he just didn’t have enough hair of his own when it came to using pins to hold it all in place.

“Everything is ready. They are opening the doors to let everyone in. How are you two doing over here?” Jan asked Charisma and Flossie who were huddled together at the vanity, looking down at some notes and drawings.

“With no time to practice or prepare I’d say we’re excellent,” Flossie said sarcastically.

“It seems simple enough but are you sure you want me on stage with you to do this? Couldn’t you go alone?” Charisma asked.

“You know as well as I do this requires two men to perform. Davoren will know something is up if just one of us is on stage. Besides, I’m sure you don’t want Flossie’s job, do you?” Flossie didn’t even want her job either.

***

“Is he here?” Flossie asked, sneaking up behind Charisma who was watching an act perform backstage. The show had begun and it was her first real opportunity to watch a theater show. She had always gotten to see shows at the colosseum due to her job there and although it was the largest stage in all of Wondermere, there was something about a smaller and more intimate setting that Charisma appreciated. 

The audience was within arms reach, meaning they could see everything that was happening. One wrong move and it could give away the trick.

However, as the Hangman’s Theater hosted more than just magic acts, performing on stage were a duet who were on their second song. Charisma enjoyed their voices and how they blended together well. She wasn’t sure if they were brother and sister or husband and wife but their connection, whatever it was, was undeniable. She also couldn’t help but notice how the woman looked in her direction whenever she moved across the stage. Charisma kept looking back in case the stare was meant for someone else but there was never anyone behind her.

“Hello!” Flossie whispered loudly, snapping her fingers in front of Charisma’s face as she was clearly distracted by the singing happening on stage.

“Oh, sorry, yes,” Charisma said, leaning to one side so Flossie could see for herself. Seated at a slightly larger table in the middle with everyone else around them, was the Great Davoren. 

Charisma wasn’t very impressed by him the way everyone else seemed to be. The moment he arrived everyone around him felt compelled to congratulate his obvious invitation to the colosseum and tell them how much they love his performances. He placated the crowds enough without encouraging them but he did take several bows before the shows on stage could begin.

He arrived at the theater alone, though after a while he was joined by two other people. They flanked him on either side. One man and the other was Miss. Pomroy. Charisma gasped when she saw her and turned her head away, afraid she would be heard over the singers. 

“What is she doing here?” Flossie asked.

“I have no idea but I’m starting to think this might be the a bad idea. What if she recognizes us?”

“I hope not—”

“Excuse me, sirs, your up next,” The stage manager who had been directing traffic brilliantly backstage crept up behind Charisma and Flossie.

“Thank you,” Flossie said, in as deep a voice as she could muster. Charisma didn’t get to hear the end of the song and she hoped she would get a chance to let them both know how much she enjoyed their singing.

In their dressing room Flossie blurted out the good news that they were next, omitting that their employer at the colosseum was also in attendance. 

The equipment was already waiting for them on the side of the stage with Felix dressed as a woman and Charisma and Jan both dressed as men, preparing to walk on stage. 

The evenings host walked onto the stage while the audience finished applauding the singers who exited on the opposite side of the stage. The female singing looked back across the stage and winked at Charisma whose face flushed.

“Here we go,” Flossie said, shoving her way past Charisma and Jan and running onto the stage. She made a big scene of leaning in to whisper something to the announcer before handing him a card and running off stage in the direction of the two singers.

The announcer cleared his throat before speaking into the microphone. “Ladies and gentleman. It appears we have a change in tonight’s performance. Maranigan the Magician will be performing…” he started and paused, swallowing deeply and wishing he had a glass of water to get through the rest, he continued, “the Vanishing Woman.”

There was immediate gasps and murmurings coming from the audience. Jan and Charisma leaned in to look at Davoren’s reaction. As they expected, he was livid. Even members of the audience looked over at him as well.

“Let’s give them a round of applause…,” the announcer said and quickly hurried off stage.

As the equipment for to perform the magic trick was wheeled on stage with the aid of Charisma, Jan and one stage hand, Felix waited in the wings for his cue to walk on stage.

By now, Davoren was beside himself as he continued to sit, unmoving, and watching what was about to take place. Sure, other magicians have tried to perform the Vanishing Woman, but none of them were successful. He was used to copycats. None of them knew how he did it and it amused him to watch others try. But this was different. He could already tell when he saw what was being brought out on stage that they at least had the correct equipment. Then he saw Jan and knew it was entirely possible that this trick would be performed exactly the same as he has done in his own shows. But with the audience watching he couldn’t make a scene. He tried to look around him without moving his head even an inch and held a smile on his face though it clearly pained him. Charisma took a chance to glance in his direction and saw a vain throbbing on the side of his neck as he clenched his jaw and balled his fists in front of him. She looked away but not before catching the eye of Miss. Pomroy who was staring rather intently at her. She raised her eyebrows and looked away quickly. Jan could tell something was off but as they were both in the middle of a trick there was hardly any time to find out what was wrong.

“Ladies and gentlemen. I am sure you’ve seen this trick performed once or twice before—”

“Unsuccessfully!” Came a shout from the audience. Even Davoren forgot himself and nodded in agreement with the yeller.

“Indeed. But I assure you. There will be no cock-up here,” Jan continued, staring right at Davoren. “If my lovely assistant will join me on stage.” Jan waved her hand with a flourish for Felix to appear and he did. Instantly the crowd erupted in laughter. Felix was nothing like any magician’s assistant. He was the wrong age. The wrong height. The wrong look all around. Jan knew it and did it intentionally. Not only would she perform Davoren’s trick as well as he does but with an older and far less attractive woman to boot.

Jan continued her speech, letting the audience know exactly what they were seeing and what they were about to see. Charisma was so busy listening and learning and waiting for her cues that she didn’t notice Davoren has managed to slip away. Luckily, it wasn’t her job to notice his movements at this point. It was her job to make sure the trick happened correctly or they would all be in trouble.

Felix stepped inside the large rectangular box and four large locks were used to make sure it could not be opened. Then Jan and Charisma spun the box around twice to let the audience see there was no other means of escape, knocking on all the sides of the box to show there was no secret door.

On the last turn, the box was stopped, Jan said a few arbitrary magic words, the locks were removed and the door swung open to reveal Charisma stepping out of the box! The crowd cheered!

Right beneath the stage Felix was smoothing out his dress and awkwardly sliding across an oversized fluffy pillow that was placed there to catch his fall. 

“Let me through immediately!” Davoren shouted several yards away. 

“Excuse me sir,” said a deep voice charging at him at top speeds. A waiter holding a tray of drinks bumped into him, spilling them all onto his front. In the commotion he didn’t notice when an elderly woman stumbled past him, slipping her hand in his waist coat pocket and retrieving a notebook that was inside.

“I’ll have you fired for this!” The Great Davoren shouted.

“Dear me, what is all the fuss about?” Mr. Dingle said, appearing as if out of nowhere. “Hurry along and get fresh drinks for our guests. Mustn’t keep them waiting. I’ll take care of this.”

The waiter, keeping their head low, hurried away with an empty tray in their hand.

“What kind of incompetent staff are you running here?” Davoren continued to shout.

The old woman and waiter came together in the dressing room. She removed her wig and laughed. He shook his head and pulled off his waiters hat, letting long hair spill down around her shoulders.

“Now, that was fun!” Flossie said. A knock on the door startled them both. Flossie rushed to put her hair back up in her hat. She snapped her fingers at Felix to hurry up and put his wig back on before she opened the door, the empty tray in her hand as if pretending to leave. “If that will be all.” She ducked her head and tried to move past the person in the doorway without making eye contact but they kept moving with her to block her escape.

Gripping her by the arm, Flossie was forced back into the room and onto the couch beside Felix, whose wig was badly askew atop his head.

“You two better have a damn good explanation for why you weren’t at work today before I report you to the king myself!”

EPISODE 8 of 12 – Sleight of Hand

The Hangman’s Theater isn’t known for hosting magician acts but tonight is very different. Not only will Jan be performing with her other “male” team, but they’ve devised a plan that will get them one step closer to retrieving the item stolen from Felix’s flat.

TOLD FROM THE POV OF FLOSSIE

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The horse whinnied as it was reigned in at a cross street to let three gentlemen and a lady cross. One of the gentlemen tipped their hat at the coachman to thank him for stopping short. Once they reached the other side of the street the horse and coach it pulled continued on its way.

“See, we fooled him completely,” Flossie said, clearing her throat once more to try and make it sound deeper, like a man.

“A coachman high up in his seat is hardly a magic trick one has to perfect in the art of disguise. This will hardly work when face-to-face with the enemy,” Felix retorted. Of the four of them, he fussed the most. He had no experience wearing a girdle and heeled shoes and it showed as he attempted to scratch an itch in his back. A most unladylike maneuver. 

Jan took his arm and whispered in his ear, “Calm yourself, Felix or your wig will come right off.” A pair of women deep in their own world of conversation on the other side of the street stopped and stared for a moment at the four of them. Instinctively, Charisma, Flossie and Jan tipped their hat at the ladies as they giggled to each other and kept walking, this time at a faster pace.

“I wonder what they must think of us,” Charisma said. “What exactly are we planning on doing? I feel rather exposed out here in the middle of the day.”

“If we’re to uncover anything about what happened to that unfortunate gentleman who died on your doorstep then we must go where he’s gone and speak to whomever he may have come into contact with. And with the king’s guardsmen out looking for him and likely looking for you as well, we need to make sure this disguise is at least passible for the time being.”

Felix pried his arm away from Jan. “If you are suggesting what I think you’re suggesting then count me out. I can find the journal on my own and I don’t need this get up to do it,” he said, pushing up his bosom that was sagging a bit along with his dress that was having a hard time staying on his shoulders. It was meant for a much bustier woman.

“We’ve already been to a hall. Where else do we need to search?” Charisma asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jan said.

Flossie’s eyes widened. “You think he’s been to the colosseum? But it’s not open to the public yet.”

“Not the colosseum, but one step below that. What if he came here to confront a magician with the deck and got sent packing. Like—”

“No! Absolutely not. It’s impossible to go to every single theater hoping someone will tell us if they’ve seen him. And I refuse to take another step in these shoes. They are wreaking havoc on my feet,” Felix said, eyeing the shoes of the three ladies with him, enviously.

“I wasn’t suggesting we hoof it to every theater. I agree with you, Felix. There are far too many and not enough time to waste. But we already have a place to start, the Great Davoren. You mentioned he was withholding information? Well, he’s not likely to divulge it to you but what about for a wager?”

Jan knew the Great Davoren couldn’t turn down a wager. In fact, everyone knew that. Including Felix who rolled his eyes and folded his arms in defiance.

“He’d never go for it. Besides, what exactly do you propose to bet against a man like him? He’s no fool.”

“We shall see. Do you trust me, Charisma? If this works it will give us answers, but if it doesn’t, you might suffer the most out of all of us simply for what you now hold in your possession,” Jan said.

“I trust you, Jan. Of course I do. This is the most fun I’ve had in years outside of my home. What do you propose we do?”

Jan looked at her pocket watch to make note of the time. “Meet me in front of Hangman’s Theater this evening at six o’clock. Oh, and make sure you come dressed like this. All of you,” she said, eyeing Felix.

“You expect me to be seen in this thing again later tonight, and at Hangman’s Theater no less. Are you mad?”

“Do you want your precious journal back? Or answers to your questions? If so, then do this and I promise, the dress, the heels, the wig, will have all been worth it,” Jan said, with a smirk.

“Thank you, Felix,” Charisma said, putting her hand on his shoulder just as an older man pushing a cart down the street filled with different fruits. He stopped for a moment beside them and pulled his cap off, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. He eyed them suspiciously before putting his cap back on and continuing to push his cart. He was headed closer to the colosseum to catch the end of day crowds on their way home from a long days work. Charisma recognized him as the man she often buys her fruit from and wondered if he noticed her as well.

“Six o’clock,” Jan repeated as she jogged across the street and turned a corner out of sight before Felix could continue his protestations.

“Are we to walk home now?” Felix asked.

“No, Felix. I believe you’ve suffered enough,” Charisma said, holding her hand out to signal a coach for them. Women never signal for a coach, it is always a man, but as she was dressed for the part it was surprisingly simple to do. Even Flossie was impressed and said as much upon entering the coach. Charisma hopped in last after letting Felix in ahead of her, unlike Flossie who forgot her gentlemanly manners and pushed her way in first. She tapped the roof of the coach to signal it was safe to depart and they made their way home, two gentleman and a rather elderly lady.

***

As requested, but by much fuss from Felix, they arrived as dressed that morning at the Hangman’s Theater.

“Wait,” Felix said, grabbing Charisma’s arm before she opened the coach door. “Who is that with Jan? Isn’t that…yes, it is…,” he said, fanning out and raising a pair of lorgnette eyeglasses to see better.

“Nevermind them, what exactly are those?” Flossie asked him. Charisma stifled a giggle as best she could.

“At least I’m trying to look the part,” Felix huffed right back at Flossie.

“He is right, Fliss. It’s Garreth. What is he doing talking with Jan? Should we leave?” Charisma asked far too late, for Jan had already seen the carriage lingering and surmised it was her friends who she asked to meet her in front of the Hangman’s Theater where she had waited.

Jan rapped on the window and Charisma pulled back the curtain slowly. In her present attire she was as much a man as any other gentleman. And if she needed to pass as one in front of strangers she was certain of passing the test without a problem. But she had met Garreth before, and in close proximity to each other. She had doubts that he would not recognize her disguise straight away.

“Here is my team, as you can see. You can assure the king that I am more than ready to help,” Jan said, turning her head away from Garreth so that only the occupants of the carriage could see it and she winked. 

Garreth lowered his head to look inside the dark carriage at those seated within. He eyed Charisma curiously and she blushed slightly at his gaze before averting her eyes back to Jan. He slowly surveyed Felix and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Who is she supposed to be? Your stage assistant?” His tone was clearly one of sarcasm and Felix was ready to defend himself, though from what he was not completely sure.

“I assure you, my cousin…Tamsin,” she said, pausing long enough to find a name she felt fit Felix’s look, “is the best in the business.”

Garreth reached in the breast pocket of his uniform and handed Jan an all too familiar black envelope. “Do not disappoint the king. Or on your head be it.” His last words before departing inside the Hangman’s Theater.

“Is that what I think it is?” Felix asked, awkwardly stepping out of the carriage. He pulled his arms away from Jan and Charisma who tried to help steady him in his two inch heels with little success. “Unhand me, you two. I can walk just fine on my own. I’ve been practicing.”

Flossie eyed him curiously and whispered under her breath, “I’ll bet you have.”

“Quickly, let’s get inside and I’ll explain everything,” Jan said, ushering them through the main entrance of the Hangman’s Theater. She held up the black envelope as they passed by the guard at the door. 

The theater was empty, just workers taking down chairs from round tables and laying out cutlery for the evening’s performances. They walked towards the stage in quick procession till they arrived backstage. It was much more crowded with magician acts moving about, preparing for the evening. 

They arrived at a door and Jan opened it and ferried them inside before closing it behind her. “Why did he hand you an invitation?”

Flossie inhaled loudly. “You don’t mean—”

“No, he doesn’t. That’s not what this is. You’ve indeed been out of the business for a long time, haven’t you. The king gives out black letters to small acts now. It’s his way of spreading the wealth of the colosseum to the lower class magicians. This way it’s all very fare. Except, those with black invitations have to perform in theaters to earn a spot to perform at the colosseum.”

“And you got a black invitation to perform? Tonight?” Charisma asked. She removed her hat which, until now, had been concealing her long hair that was held in place by pins in a braid.

“Exactly, so don’t get too comfortable, because you’re helping me,” Jan said.

“I knew it. You’ve gone stark raving mad. Why would we want to expose ourselves on stage? We need to remain in the shadows, not out in public for all the world to see what we’re up to,” Felix said. He wanted terribly to take off his shoes as they were beginning to hurt his feet from the hours he had already spent walked back and forth across his living room floor in them for practice. Instead, he sat on an old musty couch that probably hadn’t been cleaned for years. The smell reminded him of his younger years, playing in theaters not unlike the Hangman, for barely any money, in the hopes the Lyfords would one day receive a highly coveted invitation from the king.

“Do you really think I would risk this if it wasn’t for a good reason? I have it on good authority that the judge of tonight’s show is the Great Davoren. And if he’s like I remember him, anything of value he has will most assuredly be on him.”

“Lunacy. Sheer lunacy. You expect us to perform on stage and pick his pockets? I suppose you have some master scheme to do all this to a magician?” Felix said sarcastically. Everyone in that room knew a magician was the hardest mark for any thief, even the most acclaimed.

Jan smiled mischievously. It’s why you’re here, Felix. The denouement will be The Vanishing Woman.”

Felix was about to protest again but stopped himself. Then he gave the same grin that she had just a moment ago.

“Look at them, Charisma. Both smiling like Cheshire cats. What are we missing?”

“Perhaps our friend, Jan, isn’t as crazy as I thought. The Vanishing Lady is Davoren’s main performance piece. He frames his entire show around it. Even I know that. And like any good magician he’ll want to make sure his secret for how it’s done isn’t the same as his own. He’ll want to go backstage and confirm for himself.” Felix started to laugh in a most sinister way. “Oh, that is rich. But you forget one thing. How exactly do we get the journal off him?”

“Felix, you forget you are in the company of the owner of Maranigan’s Shop. Maranigan knows everything. It is our stock in trade. When all else fails, the secrets we keep will keep our legacy afloat. You were a master thief in your day, were you not? I suspect you still know a thing or two. And if you can convince him that you are who you pretend to be, then I think you can easily get close enough to do what must be done. But you only have one shot to do it. We all do. There’s no telling how many of the king’s guardsmen will also be in attendance. One wrong move and we’ll all be in trouble.”

“That still leaves one question unanswered,” Charisma said, raising her hand to call their attention to her. “Why would the king give you an invitation on such short notice? Doesn’t he give those out well in advance so that magicians have a chance to prepare?”

“Let’s just say I called in a favor with the king,” Jan replied, “so let’s not muck it up.”

EPISODE 7 of 12 – Sleight of Hand

A visit to Maranigan’s Shop yields unexpected results (and help) from Jan, the current owner, when they discover the king’s guardsmen are now looking for them in connection with the sighting of a deck of cards.

TOLD FROM THE POV OF CHARISMA

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The rest of the evening was a blur for Charisma. She remembers putting the deck back in her pocket and making some excuse to the others for some space. She needed to think about what she’d just been told. Performing at the colosseum was a long time dream of hers ever since she was old enough to accompany her father to work and watch him craft a wand special for a magician. She wanted a wand of her very own. A thing she could never own.

Being a magician was a man’s world and the only space that women were allowed to occupy in it was as assistants to the magic trick being performed. They wore scantily clad outfits on stage and waved their arms about to deflect the audiences attention from the truth behind the trick.

When Charisma was lucky enough to get a job at the colosseum she knew it would be the closest she’d ever get to fulfilling her dream and she made sure not to waste a moment of it. Whenever the annual performances happened she volunteered to work the floor. This gave her access backstage to all the acts and in many cases, she even figured out how they really worked though she would never reveal what she knows to anyone.

Upon leaving the pub she was met by a throng of young boys waving their very own magician wands in the air, laughing and joking with each other. She wondered where their parents were, letting them stay out this late at night. There was a chill in the air and she welcomed how it awakened her senses. Without much thought she pointed herself in a direction that led her closer to the colosseum and started to walk. 

She heard horse hooves in the distance pulling carriages and merchants shouting across the road to each other as they started to close their shops for the night. There was also the familiar smell of late night restaurants and pubs preparing for the evening crowds. Usually men after work looking for a quick bite to eat or ale to drink before headed home to the meal they could barely stomach.

Pretty soon Charisma found herself stopped in front of a magic shop. But not just any magic shop. This was her favorite place to visit as a child and it was still where she’d end up whenever she wanted to escape the shouting matches between her mother and father and eventually the shouting matches between her and her father. It felt safe and warm and welcoming. It also helped that the owner encouraged her love of magic, promising to never tell a soul about it.

Charisma pulled open the door and walked in, immediately shutting out the sounds from outside and setting her in silence. She wasn’t surprised the place was empty. It usually was slow in the evenings though Jan kept it open late just in case there was a magician emergency. 

Maranigan’s shop wasn’t the only magic shop in Wondermere. Truth be told, there were dozens of them but it was Maranigan’s that was open from the very beginning and it was the staple for any true magician to avail themselves of the very best. If they could afford it, that is. The other shops were more for tourists and magicians who were not as successful. 

“Well hello there, stranger. I haven’t seen you in…” Jan appeared as if out of nowhere, usually from the tucked away back room, with hands on hips, thinking. “What is it?” Jan could tell something was wrong. Anytime Charisma visited she was either bubbly and excited about something she’d just heard or discovered while working backstage at the colosseum, or she was looking for a place to hide from the outside world. Jan could tell it was the latter this time.

Without a word Charisma pulled out the deck of cards from her pocket and held it out to Jan who knew what it was and quickly locked the door so no one could come in.

“Jan, I’m in trouble,” Charisma said before exhaling deeply. She had been holding in so much emotion and she couldn’t any longer. The tears came before her words and Jan just listened, trying to make out the words that came blubbering out of Charisma’s shaky voice.

After a while Charisma stopped talking and they just remained together in silence for a bit until Jan left her to put the kettle on.

While Jan was gone, Charisma had a chance to realize all she had just said. But she wasn’t worried that Jan would turn her over to the king or his guardsmen. Jan was good at keeping secrets.

After Jan was born the Maranigan family had to become expert secret keepers. Starting with the baby that should’ve been born a boy. For hundreds of years Maranigan’s Magic Shop was owned and operated by the men in their family. It made sense. No magician would ever buy any magic if it were being sold by a woman. It’s common knowledge and tradition that magic is performed by men. To keep the business afloat and in good standing with the magician community a man had to run the business always.

Then Jan was born. A beautiful baby girl with a full head of dark curls and hazel eyes. The day she was put into her mother’s arms by a close family friend who helped with the pregnancy, there were tears in everyone’s eyes but they were not of joy. Jan’s mother didn’t make it but her dying wish was for her husband to do what needed to be done to keep the shop going for everyone’s sake.

Jan’s father knew what his wife mean. With her gone their entire livelihood rested on the shoulders of a baby. He also had to deal with his sister who ran away from home the first chance she got. Last known to have a family of her own in a far off land. Rumor has it, she had a son, who, by rights should be the owner of Maranigan’s Shop were it not for the recorded birth of a beautiful baby boy. Dark curly hair. Hazel eyes.

For the rest of her life, Jan was to dress as a boy. To everyone who came round and to all her close friends, she was a boy. And it didn’t bother her much to do so. Jan always felt the boys got to have more fun anyhow. The burden was on her father who kept it till the day he died. The shop left to Jan, she didn’t have to carry the weight of it all on her own. Eventually, she shared her secret with a childhood friend who agreed to live with her as husband and wife.

Jan also shared her secret with Charisma and Flossie. Her father told her why it needed to be kept a secret but she felt the more people in her life who knew the easier it would be not to lie.

When Jan came back with a tray of tea and biscuits, Charisma was feeling better. The shock having worn off.

“What should I do?” Charisma asked Jan. She felt it was a question Jan would surely have an answer to. She couldn’t ask Flossie. She knew what Flossie would say. That she had to go through with it, learn magic and show those men what a woman could do. And Felix, well, as a former magician he’d likely think this all was a bit too dangerous for her to undertake.

“I know what I would do,” Jan said. “I’d hide. But, hiding is what I do best,” she said, motioning to her store. “I have to hide or I risk losing everything. But you’re different, Charisma. You never had to spend your life under the mask of a lie. You have little to lose.”

“It sounds like you’re saying I should do it,” Charisma said, a chuckle in her throat that came up involuntarily. “You were the last person I’d think would tell me that.”

“You came to me for honesty. Not more lies. I envy you. Your whole life ahead of you. To do with whatever you want. I’m trapped under the weight of magic that was here long before I was born and will surely outlive me.”

Jan sipped the tea she made and looked towards the door of her shop. On the other side she could see Flossie waving frantically trying to get her attention. Beside her an older gentleman who she guessed to be the Felix that Charisma told her about.

“Your friends are here,” Jan said, motioning her to turn round.

Charisma was equally excited and exhausted to see the concerned faces of Flossie and Felix looking at her on the other side of the door.

Jan unlocked and opened the door, a jingle of bells as they rushed inside.

“Close it quickly. Do you have somewhere where we can not be seen from the street?” Felix asked, dispensing with introductions. Charisma thought they were just looking for her out of concern but realized it was for a more immediate reason and danger.

Without saying a word, Jan closed and locked the door. She pulled closed curtains that were on the door, meant to keep out the morning sun then prying eyes. Then she beckoned them to follow her through the maze of her store towards the back. It was an opening that led to where the excess stock was kept in crates and boxes. Not exactly as private as Felix would’ve liked but he supposed it would have to do for now. He started to speak when Jan pushed aside large crates that looked much heavier than they actually were. Under them was a handle that Jan grabbed and pulled up to reveal a trap door. She held it open while Felix, Flossie and Charisma walked down the stairs. Jan followed behind them letting the lid slam shut above her.

Left in pitch darkness, none of them moved, except Jan, who knew exactly where to go to produce light. She side stepped past Charisma and ran her hand along the stone wall till her hand touched the familiar bronze lantern. She found the turnkey and twisted it a quarter turn to produce just enough light to see everyone’s faces. Only Flossie looked fascinated by where they were and was antsy to see where the secret tunnel would lead.

Jan unhooked the lantern and used it to lead the way down a long tunnel that seemed to never end. Above them they could hear the familiar sounds of footfalls from people walking and the occasional trot of horses hooves. Charisma guessed by the sounds and length of time they spent walking that they were headed across the street but underground.

They reached the end of the tunnel and turned right to find a locked door. Jan pulled out a key she wore around her neck and used it to open the door for them to all enter. Once inside she no longer needed the lantern. There was an overhead light that was already on, as if they were expected.

“How’s this?” Jan asked, winking over at Felix who was impressed. He thought he knew of all the secret tunnels and places throughout Wondermere but clearly he was proven wrong.

“Why all the secrecy?” Charisma asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. They obviously needed to be careful what they said and who would be around when they said it, but she was hoping to have some time alone as she asked and was only given a few hours. Not nearly the amount of time she wanted.

“Someone reported seeing the deck in the area. Anyone who isn’t where they should be is being sought. That includes anyone missing from work…” Flossie said.

Charisma knew that meant them. They up and left work without letting even Ms. Pomroy know what was going on or that they needed to leave. Charisma kicked herself for not confiding in Ms. Pomroy whom she trusted to at least not report her to the king’s guardsmen if they came looking. She hated them as much as anyone else.

“Should we go to the colosseum or home?” Charisma asked.

No one answered straight away, then Jan said “neither.” All eyes turned to her for a reason. “If they are looking for you, the best thing you can do is remain hidden for as long as possible. I’m sure another emergency will come up that will take all their attentions off of you. Until then, you should hide.”

“And how do you suppose we do that? We don’t exactly stand out but we’re not the blending in kind either,” Flossie said, looking at herself then Charisma up and down. They were in their work clothes which consisted of their usual trousers and button up blouse with their hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“I didn’t lead you here for no reason. A dear friend of mine owns the shop upstairs,” Jan said.

“It’s a clothing shop,” Charisma said out loud to no one in particular.

“Yes, but you’ve probably only seen half of the store. There’s a secret place that only certain people even know exists. It’s where I shop for my clothes,” Jan said. “Hiding in plain sight is something I’m really good at.”

“That’s all well and good for you to dress them up to look like men. What do you propose to do to hide me?”

Flossie snorted holding back laughter. Charisma fought to hold back laughter as well.

“I’m sure we can find something suitable for your…magnetic personality…” Jan said, pushing open another door that led them into Anders Costume Shop.

EPISODE 6 of 12 – Sleight of Hand

An unexpected relation of Felix’s happens to overhear the plans being hatched by Charisma, Flossie, and Felix and injects himself into their scheme. With little hope of moving forward without him they tell him everything that’s happened and he tells Charisma something that will change her life forever.

TOLD FROM THE POV OF FLOSSIE

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They heard the gruff and gravely voice first but it was the distinct cigar smell that made Felix stiffen. He’d recognize it anywhere and felt his old age catching up to him that he didn’t look around before they sat down and starting talking. He knew whatever was about to happen would likely not go well but he steeled himself as best be could before turning around with a wide grin on his face to welcome his cousin, Orson Lyford.

Off all the Lyford magicians still alive, and currently out of work, Orson was the one who held a grudge against Felix the hardest. It wasn’t so much the shame but what happened to his favorite aunt shortly after. When she took her own life it shattered the Lyford family irreparably and Orson holds Felix personally responsible for Aunt Bea’s tragic death.

“Dear cousin,” Felix said, his eyes shocked by the state of his cousin who he hadn’t seen in over a decade. In truth, he likely wouldn’t even have recognized his cousin were it not for the combination of his voice and the cigar smell. It was a brand the men in his family smoked regularly. It was nice to see old habits didn’t go away, but that was all the nice he was going to get. “I didn’t see you there.”

Orson shoved out of his seat so he could get a better look at Felix. Each step he took was accompanied by a distinct stomp on the floor from a wooden cane he used on his right side to help with his right foot that was wrapped by metal bars on four sides.

Charisma looked down at his leg in horror. She’d only heard of such a contraption being used on a magician when he suffered an accident on stage a long time ago. But from what she remembered it required absolutely no movement until the fractured bones healed. Judging by the way Orson leaned on his cane to try and keep the weight off his injured one, she could tell it had been some time since he followed doctors orders and because of it he may never be without his cane.

“You needn’t worry yourself, lass. I barely feel the pain now. I’d have the blasted thing taken off if it weren’t gonna cost me ta have it done. Shift over, cousin. Can’t you see I’m crippled,” Orson said, waving for Felix to slide further into his booth. This did not make Felix feel safe at all as now he was trapped with no means of escape.

Orson shifted his leg closer to the table and using his can, lifted himself up enough to get into the seat beside Felix, leaving just enough room for his bad foot to stick straight out between Charisma and Flossie under the table.

“Not that we don’t want you two to reconcile whatever bad blood is clearly between you two, but we were kind of in the middle of something,” Flossie said, hoping Orson would get the hint. But as it was rather difficult for him to get from his booth to theirs, there was very little chance of his leaving so soon.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you say the word ‘Garrigill’ and naturally my ears perk up. Now, normally I’d inquire what two lovely lasses such as yourselves are doing hanging about with the likes of my dear cousin here,” Orson said, shoving an elbow into Felix’s side. Charisma and Flossie eyed their friend who seemed smaller somehow, sitting next to his cousin who though hunched over slightly, was broader in shoulders and it made him seem like a big man. “But, I remember what Felix was like as a boy. He always did have a way with charming the ladies. Good to see that hasn’t gone away. Speaking of ladies, how is—”

“Enough, Orson. What is it you want?”

“It’s not what I want, dear cousin. It’s what you need from me. You see, there’s only two ways I can think of to get inside Garrigill. One is if you’re a member, which you no longer are.”

“And the other way?” Flossie asked, her curiosity buzzing as her leg starting bouncing under the table. Charisma knew whenever Flossie did that it meant she was getting really excited.

“If you’re dead. All magicians, even the former ones,” Orson said, glancing in Felix’s direction, “are given the benefit of a proper service once they’ve passed. It’s the least we can do. And since you’re not dead…”

“No, I dare say I’m not. And while I want to get to the bottom of who that—” Felix started to say but stopped himself when he remembered they were in mixed company. “Let’s just say I’m not that committed to the cause that I’d die to get us inside.”

“Now see, that’s where I come in. It just so happens that I can get you in. For a small fee, of course.” Orson rubbed the thumb on his right hand across the other fingers. The universal symbol for money.

This was when it all came flooding back to Felix. What happened to cousin Orson is what happened to most of the Lyford family after most of them were laughed out of the business or forced to move far away, they drank and gambled. Orson was the best and worst offender. He always managed to keep his head just above water financially so that he never was off his rocker drunk in a ditch but never skint either. Felix guessed his money was obtained from foolish women who found Orson handsome when he was younger and quick with the smiles and tricks. But when the Lyford’s were no longer a household name, Orson disappeared same as Felix. 

“I’d rather not take you up on your offer, dear cousin. It stinks worse than a week old fish left out in the sun,” Felix said.

Charisma leaned forward in her seat and whispered to Orson. “How much?”

“Now, wait a minute—” Felix started but was interrupted by Orson who stared daggers directly at him before returning his gaze towards Charisma with a smile.

“The lass asked how much and I intend on answering her. See, I offer my services, not for the money. I can get money anywhere. I’m a man of means. No, it’s not money that I want. I’m in search of answers little lass. See, it wasn’t too long ago that Lyford’s were loved by everyone.” Felix rolled his eyes. This was a story he’d heard one too many times and not just from his cousin but other Lyford relations as well. “What I want is to get that back. I want back what was taken from me by him and something tells me whatever you three are cookin’ up will provide exactly what I’m looking for.”

Felix started to shake his head. “No, you’ve got this all wrong. We’re not on some redemption mission. I’m simply helping out my neighbors and that’s it. When it’s done I return to the comfort of my small life in my small apartment. Whatever you think this is, it’s not. I am truly sorry, Orson. I’ve said it so many times now I’m sure it stopped sounding sincere a long time ago. But what’s been done cannot be undone.”

His voice cracked under the pressure of his own words. He wished his apology could fix everything that became broken the moment he made his mistake. He wished he could go back in time and never perform on stage that day. He could’ve gotten sick and let someone else do the magic trick. But he can’t. He hated his cousin for being there and bringing it all back to the surface again.

“What do you say little lass? Give me a reason to do more than just drink,” Orson said. And for the first time his own ache showed in his eyes. They were big and round and hazel, staring, pleading, with Charisma and then over at Flossie.

“What do you know about the stranger everyone’s talking about?” Flossie blurted out before anyone could stop her.

Orson’s eyes widened then he furrowed his eyebrows, leaned back and spit on the floor. “That piece of crud. Yeah, I heard of him. Came into town not two nights ago. Stumbled into The Red Boot and started shouting about being chased. I couldn’t make heads nor tales about what he was on about. Then he bumped right into me and with his ranting and raving the bugger pulled out a deck of cards!” Orson paused for a moment to see their reactions. All of them remained silent. Orson smiled. He knew. “Blimey, I thought. If he’s found with that and I’m keeping company with him, we’d both be at the end of a rope come sunrise.”

“So what did you do? Send him down the street and as far away from you as possible,” Felix said sarcastically. He waited for Orson to contradict him but he didn’t. “That’s exactly what you did, isn’t it? You stupid man.”

“Oh, and what would you have done? Welcomed him with open arms? I don’t think so.”

“So, you saw the deck. He actually pulled it out and showed it to you?” Charisma asked. She could feel the bulge of the deck in her hidden pocket and suddenly it was cutting into her unlike any other time of the day. She wanted to take it out and let it breathe. Let herself breathe.

“I saw it, aye. But I made him put it away. He said he was going to use it to expose the king as a fraud. Whatever that means. I told him he was going to get himself killed if he didn’t stay quiet. Then I took him outside and he wandered off.” Felix shook his head in disbelief. “What? I did the man a favor.”

“No, you didn’t,” Felix said. “You sent the man to his death.”

“How do you know? As far as I heard the king is still looking for him.”

Felix looked over at Flossie who in turn looked over at Charisma. She looked at Orson and said, “He died on my doorstep yesterday. But not before giving me this.” Charisma pulled out the deck of cards and placed it in the middle of the table. “We’re trying to find out why he came to me, who killed him, and who he was. If you want to help us, we accept, but as Felix said, there is no guarantee any of the answers will help you.”

“Where’s the book?” Orson asked. He didn’t look at Felix but Felix knew he was talking to him. Orson turned his head towards Felix and stopped looked at the deck on the table momentarily to ask his question again. “Where is the book? I know you have it. Well all know you have it.”

“You mean the codex—” Flossie started. She stopped when Felix shot her a look to shut up.

“Now see, you wouldn’t know about the codex unless it was told to you specifically. So, you did steal it. I knew it. Well, if you’ve got the deck and you’ve got the codex then that’s it then. They’ve finally been brought together as it was foretold, what, several hundred years ago.”

“As it was foretold?” Charisma asked.

“They’re not magicians, Orson. You mustn’t—”

“Don’t you tell me what I mustn’t do, dear cousin. You created this mess, remember. The way it was explained to us growing us, the deck and the codex belonged to a man who came to Wondermere long before it was even called Wondermere. He performed his magic to anyone and everyone. Anyway, the way it ends is the king’s son, unable to perform even a simple card trick banished the man with his codex and his deck and no one ever heard or saw him again. They say he managed to escape, though no one knows exactly how, and when he did he took his deck and codex with him. He gave the deck to one person and the codex to another. As long as they were separate then I would make it harder for the king or any future kings to completely be rid of card magic which he hoped would make a triumphant return to popularity. Card magic was intended to unite us, not divide us. Didn’t he tell you all this?” Orson said, looked over at Felix. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t have. The codex was entrusted to the Lyford’s and we spent most of our existence trying to find the deck. Last we heard it was on the other side of the world and we would likely never see it again. But we always held out hope. And kept the codex safe. Until it was taken not shortly after Felix, here, ran away. I always knew he took it. His parent’s wouldn’t heard a negative thing against him. But I knew.”

“Well, we had the codex. But it was taken. That’s why we need to go to Garrigill. The person who took it says we need to go there and bring the deck with us,” Charisma said. Felix wanted to object to telling all this to Orson but he realized it wouldn’t do him much good to argue. His cousin, as much as it pained him to admit it, was right about the only two ways to get into Garrigill. That meant Felix couldn’t get them inside. But he wasn’t so sure Orson could either.

“I’m in. Before they put me in the ground it will be nice to witness history. The deck and the codex together. Though, are you prepared for what this all means, little lass?”

Charisma was confused. She looked over at Felix who shrugged his shoulders.

“Didn’t you bother reading the damn book you stole? What did you steal it for if not to read it?”

Felix couldn’t answer that. Not now. Not ever. At the time he stole it thinking he could use it as a way to get back in good graces with fellow magicians. But when more and more time went on he realized it would actually make them hate him more when they found out he was the one who stole it. First he embarrasses them, then he steals from them. It was better if he just disappeared and remained hidden for everyone’s sake.

Ever since then he couldn’t bring himself to read the book. All it did was remind him of the many mistakes he made over the years and how he could never set it right.

“Well, if you’d bothered to read even the first page you would know that it said, ‘whosoever holds the deck must be willing to perform the magic on the stage to set things right again.’ Which means, if he gave you that deck, you must be willing to use it…at the colosseum.”

Charisma picked up the deck and for the first time the weight of it was tremendous. It never felt heavier.

She looked over at Flossie who said, as best friends often do in moments like this when their words of wisdom are needed the most, “Well, damn.”