Chapter XXXIII (33)

  Mitsuko sat on a log with the entire troupe. Their large party lounged in a circle around a bonfire while Alberto praised their performances. He went through each group and spoke about their strengths and what he thought they’d done especially well at today’s performance.

  “And Sam! Absolutely spectacular today! That moment Alice tripped you into Nora and you twisted it to incorporate it into the act. Hilarious. Do you think we could replicate that?”

  “Perhaps,” the clown, Sam said, in a gravelly voice. He was the clown Holly had pointed at earlier, with the massive red smile stretched across his cheeks. Now, up close and with his makeup smeared on his face, Mitsuko could see what appeared to be his usual glower.

  “Um.” Nora looked around, panicked. “Do I get to say—”

  “No worries, no worries,” Alberto said placatingly. “We’ll discuss it another time. Just something to consider. The crowd certainly received it well.”

  “But it messed up my act,” Nora muttered, too quiet for most people to hear.

  Mitsuko sat beside her, but said nothing as the beast tamer cursed the clown quietly and said something about birdshit.

  Alberto barreled on with his seemingly endless stream of compliments. Then, finally, his wife came and brought the meeting to a close with the announcement of dinner. A whoop went up from the troupe and the clowns scrambled over one another in a race to be the first to the stew pot. Mitsuko decided to hang back. She hadn’t worked for the meal and felt it might be a bit rude to push her way forward.

  “New trapezist?” a gravelly voice asked.

  Sam, the clown, stood barely taller than a sitting Mitsuko, who herself was far from a tall person. His hairline was receding, leaving a widow’s peak which had been dyed bright red.

  “No. I’m a bladedancer. I’m just partnering up with Sara and Hugh for one act. Blok too.”

  The short man scoffed.

  “Pretentious title.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bladedancer? What a joke. You’re a butcher at best.”

  Mitsuko frowned. “That’s a bold claim from someone who’s never seen me with a blade.”

  “Challenge him to a duel,” Sterling suggested. Mitsuko glanced into the forest and saw the cat’s green eyes gleaming back at her, alive in the firelight. “It’s only proper. Surely duels are a timeless tradition that haven’t somehow fallen by the wayside in the last millennium? They’re an elegantly simple solution.”

  “You don’t even have the balls to look at me after saying that.” Sam chuckled to himself. “What? Too good for the likes of us clowns?”

  “I don’t have anything against—”

  Sam spat a glob of phlegm, cutting her off.

  She felt the spit splatter and stick to her leg.

  “I heard you and your pal earlier. Don’t lie.”

  Mitsuko closed her eyes and silently cursed Holly. Then she stood and flicked her wrist. Her blade of ice hissed and steamed from the heat emanating the bonfire.

  “You just spat on me,” she said darkly.

  “You spat on my profession,” the clown retorted with a sneer. He didn’t even bother looking at her sword, instead he spotted her stump of a leg. “A cripple? We’re hiring cripples now? Even us clowns all have at least two legs.”

  Could Mitsuko run this slimy human through with her sword? How much trouble would she find herself in? At the moment, she didn’t care much about the consequences. She wanted this clown removed from her sight. Maybe just making him a cripple would work? That would be a cosmically just result.

  As she lifted her blade to slice off an appendage or two, Sara jumped between them.

  “Sam! Did you see the stew’s ready to be gobbled up! Don’t mind our newbie. I apologize if she accidentally offended your profession. I promise it wasn’t intentional. Isn’t that right, Mitsuko?”

  Mitsuko's fingers twitched. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “I believe it is an entirely admirable job. But not something I believe I would be well suited for. I simply…wanted to show you my sword. Since it’s part of my act. And relevant to your earlier question.”

  Sam scoffed. “Not suited for? Because you’d be embarrassed to be seen as one of us.”

  That…was true. Mitsuko was extremely tempted to say as much. She was beyond irritated with the clown. And the line to the stew had shrunk, meaning she could now grab her meal.

  “How about you go eat?” Sara suggested. “Next time we’re in town I’ll buy us all a drink as an apology.”

  Sam leered at the trapezist. “Fine. Buy us drinks.”

  He stepped away from the two of them and Mitsuko turned her back on him, about to play off creating her sword by showing it to Sara.

  “Mitsuko!” Sterling called out, outraged. “That is the opposite of a duel! Defend your honor!”

  “Whore.”

  It was quiet but spat with venom as Sam walked away.

  Mitsuko took a deep breath. She’d tried being reasonable. And a skewered clown sounded kind of funny. She pivoted on her pegleg, the pressure on her nub nearly toppling her over. Wisps of smoke emanated from the blade as she pointed it at the clown. She wouldn’t even have to lunge or engage in a traditional fight. All it would take is one throw to puncture the clown.

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  While Sam remained once again entirely unimpressed by the sword, others finally took notice of their confrontation.

  “Hey, now, Mitsuko,” Hugh said, sliding his way between them with two wooden bowls of stew in his hands. “I see you’ve met our lead clown, Sam. Here, sit back down, I grabbed you a bowl!”

  “You could say as much.” She didn’t lower her sword or take her eyes from the jeering clown.

  “His first impressions occasionally leave something to be desired,” Hugh admitted.

  “Nobody asked for your pathetic heroism here,” Sam said. “If the new whore wants to poke me with her stick, let her try. She’s more likely to trip and slice open her own throat.”

  “All of his impressions leave something to be desired,” Sara amended, joining the conversation again, with forceful friendliness. “But you get used to him. Like a boil on your ass you learn to not prod.”

  Mitsuko did not care to get used to him. If the Prismatic Spiral wasn’t in place, she likely would have quit this job on the spot. But this would only be for a few more days so she let herself be talked down.

  “Pathetic.” Sam sneered as Mitsuko tossed her sword into the fire. “Don’t draw a blade unless you actually intend to use it. A drawn sword means a forfeit of your life in the civilized world.”

  And, just like that, Mitsuko was ready to murder the clown again. She took a step forward, ready to flick her wrist to create a brand new sword, but Alberto finally popped over and interrupted them. He apologized profusely and led Sam away, doing damage control on that front while leaving Mitsuko to the trapezists.

  “One of these days, I’ll let Clod step on him,” Nora said darkly as they all sat back down with their bowls of stew. “He’s wanted to on several occasions. I feel it in him whenever Sam comes to him and the other animals. I’ve held him back on four different occasions. But one more ‘trip’ into me mid-performance and I might lose control of my beasts.”

  “He’s not that bad,” Hugh said. “He does a great performance. The audience likes him.”

  “He’s not that bad to you,” Sara said. “Hugh, please look and admire what the other three people around you have that you do not.”

  “Ah. Yes. Um.” He awkwardly looked at the three women around him. “I…understand your point.”

  “There’s a reason only Alice remains of our woman clowns,” Sara continued. “It used to be an even split. And I don’t blame any of them for leaving. I would jump ship too if I needed to spend more than a few minutes a day in his vicinity.”

  “I feel bad for the bitelas we just picked up,” Nora said. “Sam treats animals horribly, let alone other nonhumans. The clowns will probably haze him and force him to do their chores until he gives up. Happens every time.”

  “Why doesn’t Alberto do something about it?” Mitsuko asked.

  “He does,” Sara said. “He keeps him cooped up whenever we’re in a nonhuman city and has now stopped hiring women as clowns outright to keep them from Sam.”

  “He still got out when Alberto was distracted after the dome first dropped,” Nora said. “Went drinking in town and nearly got arrested after starting a fight.”

  “This seems like…” Mitsuko didn’t know how to put it.

  “A liability to the business?” Hugh asked. “I agree. Between us, I think Alberto should fire Sam, but he won’t. Sam was the original clown who started working for the circus twenty years ago. And even if there wasn’t loyalty involved, there’s the simple fact that Sam brings in money. He knows how to work the crowd like no one else other than Alberto himself.”

  “It’s getting worse,” Sara said. “He’ll have to do something eventually.”

  “Let’s talk about happier things,” Nora suggested. “Like, I’d love to hear about how you made acquaintances with an Awakened feline.”

  Mitsuko blinked. “You mean…Sterling?”

  Nora sighed, as if lovestruck by the name. “You’re so lucky to have such a companion.”

  Mitsuko told a broken tale of her escape from the sinking ship, instead making it sound like Sterling had been a passenger aboard, rather than a normal housecat until the Prismatic Spiral activated. Nora kept interjecting with questions about the cat, which made Mitsuko’s already jumbled story even more of a mess. But nobody seemed to mind. Soon all thoughts of Sam left their little group as they swapped stories about different places they’d all traveled to.

  Nearby, Coleo strummed his instrument, playing a soft tune for everyone. Blok shook the ground slightly as he danced along to the beat of the song. Coleo’s next song was more up beat and several of the troupe stood to join Blok dancing.

  “Do you want to—” Sara started as she offered her hand to Mitsuko, but she stopped herself mid sentence. Her panicked eyes flicked to Mitsuko’s pegleg.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Mitsuko replied. “I’m fine watching.”

  Sara bowed her head in apology and quickly left to dance with Hugh and the others.

  “The next step?” Sterling asked, hopping up on the newly vacated seat beside Mitsuko.

  “For what?”

  She’d never seen a cat roll its eyes before.

  “For your new dance routine, clearly.”

  “Fine,” Mitsuko said. “We can discuss the timeloop problems. The sarcasm is unnecessary.”

  “Bah. A millennium later people still misuse that word? Absolutely embarrassing for us as a species. Did I directly insult you with my verbally ironic comment?”

  “What?”

  “Was my comment about your dance routine a direct insult?”

  “No—”

  “Then it was not sarcasm. Ugh. So silly. Words have meaning and are designed to convey messages. People need to learn how to use them properly.” He began furiously licking the back of his paw and rubbing it behind his ear.

  “The guardian of the sage will want to hunt me down, right?” Mitsuko asked, deciding to ignore that last rant.

  “I suppose,” Sterling admitted. “Though it likely depends on the guardian’s personality. Some might instead choose to remain hidden and eat up all your available loops. Cutting someone’s heart out is not a task everyone is equipped to handle.”

  “Well my thought is to draw the guardian’s attention. Make myself visible at the circus. A new performance after several loops without one will stand out to anyone in the city.”

  “Assuming they don’t instead retreat and become even more reclusive. You gamble your identity in hopes the guardian takes the bait. Unlike everyone else, the sages and guardians retain their memories of the loops.”

  “I’ll be wearing excessive makeup and an outlandish outfit. I doubt they’ll recognize me in future loops.”

  “I suppose,” Sterling reluctantly admitted. “Though I don’t believe using yourself as bait is a wise course of action. And there is no guarantee that the guardian is even in Crocus City. It could very likely be deep in the forest anywhere on the island.”

  “I can’t exactly go off exploring this loop anyway.” Mitsuko gestured at her leg. “And entering the city itself isn’t wise right now either.”

  Plus, Mitsuko liked the idea of laying low and spending more time with the troupe. Sam’s existence excluded. In another life she thought maybe she could see herself actually joining them. If they had visited her village in the jungle, she certainly would have signed on in a heartbeat. Even if it meant being a clown.

  Well…maybe at least. She had to admit that her younger self would have taken a lot of convincing to get into one of those clown outfits. Perhaps even more than her present day self. But as the cost to see the world…she probably would have accepted.

  “Do you have any ideas on how to spot the guardian?” Sterling asked. “Or are you simply planning to only act reactively and hand over all advantages to your opponent?”

  “I have one idea.” She paused. “I happen to have a resource that nobody expects me to have.”

  “Which is?”

  “You, of course.”

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