The Immortal Circus: Final Act (Cirque des Immortels) by A. R. Kahler

I’ll see you later.”
    I nod and watch him go, feeling memories shift and bubble. Somewhere, deep down, I know I still love him. I know he’s still the one I wanted to grow old with. The more he’s around, the more I feel that connection trying to re-form, like a shattered bone that’s slowly stitching itself together, cell by miniscule cell. The slight bounce to his gait, the way his lip twitched into a smile, hell, even the way my body seems to instinctively lean toward him—they’re all pieces in a dance I know by heart but can’t find the rhythm to. He is a part of my past. Somehow, my body knows it. If only my heart could follow suit. But even as I watch him leave, I can’t summon that desire.
    All I can remember is Kingston’s cologne and the way he looked the moment before he died for me.
* * *
    I nearly yelp when I slide into the driver’s side of the cab. Because it’s not just Melody sitting in there. Lilith’s wedged in the middle, the bag of cookies open in her lap and a dusting of crumbs forming a crop circle around her.
    “I wanted to ride in the big truck,” she says. I don’t close the door behind me. I look past Lilith’s ringlets and give Mel a questioning glance. She just shrugs, as if to say you’re in charge, and goes back to skimming through her MP3 player.
    “O…kay,” I say, because there’s really no way I can force her out. The rest of the trucks are already pulling onto the highway, and Lilith’s not really someone I want to insult. I also don’t think I could convince someone to take her if I tried—I’ve no doubt whoever I asked would delight in watching me suffer. Keep your friends close. “Just try not to get crumbs everywhere.”
    She nods sagely and brushes the crumbs off her navy-blue dress.
    The first twenty minutes of the drive are in silence except for the sound of music and the crunching of Lilith eating her cookies and getting crumbs everywhere but her dress. I glance over to see Mel with her cheek pressed against the window in a very unattractive smear, a snore escaping her open mouth. In that moment, I’d give anything for a camera.
    “Do you remember my promise?” Lilith asks. Even though it’s barely above a whisper, her words cut through the music. My skin grows cold. I say nothing and pray she’s just talking about the crumbs.
    “It was so long ago, but I hope you remember. I promised to make her suffer, if you defied me. I promised to tear your sister limb from limb.”
    I nearly pull the truck over to the curb. But I don’t. My knuckles go white on the steering wheel, and I stare straight ahead, refusing to look at her, terrified that I’ll see the demon cracking out from beneath her skin. Of course I remember Lilith’s promise, from before I even joined the show—her promise to destroy my sister, to make her suffer if I didn’t join Kassia’s fight.
    “What are you talking about?” I say, because for some reason, admitting that I remember it—that I have nightmares about it—would make it more real.
    “Your end is coming, Oracle. It is coming sooner than you think. All this time, I have given you the opportunity to join me. We could have been royalty, you and I. We both burn. We both live for the blood of our victims. And yet you have done nothing but deny me. For that, I will make you suffer. And since you have taken your sister away from me, and your magician is sacrificed, I will be forced to take your lover.”
    Anger burns, and somewhere, deep down, a new sensation bubbles: the need to protect Austin in the way I know he tried to protect Claire and me. Like everything else surrounding him, my instinct is reflexive, knee-jerk, and the emotions the reaction should stem from are absent. But I know one thing: I’m not going to let her hurt him. He’s already gotten in deep enough because of me.
    “Leave him out of this.”
    “It’s too late, Oracle,” she says. “If you wanted to keep them safe, you would have joined me long