H.L. Burke - Heart of the Curiosity

The Heart of the Curiosity

By H. L. Burke

2019 H. L. Burke

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Line editing by Sarah McConahy and Janeen Ippolito

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Cover Design by Austin Lord

To My Unstoppable Girls: Coryn and Claire

Chapter One

W ith a sound like the tearing of paper, Leodoras knife sliced through the thick canvas of the wagons canopy. Behind her, her twelve-year-old sister, Muse, cringed over the heavy carpet bag she clutched to her chest.

Someone will hear, she whimpered. Her blue eyes glistened gray in the light of the single oil lamp that lit the cramped space that had been their home since their mothers death. Their home and their world ... A world consisting of two narrow bunk beds, hooks holding patched and faded costumes, a crystal ball made of glass and a single incandescent bulb Mistress Aster had been using to train Leo in the fine art of giving vague but pleasant-sounding predictions.

Leo paused. The wagon wheels rattled on cobblestone beneath them. Horses nickered in the distance, the tap of their hooves loud on the unforgiving stone.

No one but Fiestro cares, and I put enough poppy extract in his ale that hell be drowsy for days. Part of Leo hoped he'd never awaken. He didnt deserve to. The thought of Fiestro steeled her determination. Gripping the edges of the rip in the canvas with both hands, she pulled with all her might.

The tear widened. Gas lamps glinted on puddles in the otherwise empty street. Shed used all her wiles to arrange their position as the last wagon in the carnival caravan. Thankfully, Fiestro had assigned one of older roustabouts to be their driver, a nearly deaf man who wouldnt check on them until the caravan reached its destination the next morning. Plenty of time for the girls to disappear into the bustling city of Versia, make their way to The Curiosity, and stake their claim on a new life.

Standing on her tiptoes, Muse glanced over Leos shoulder and shuddered.

Can we at least wait until the wagons stop for a moment?

No time. Besides, the wagons will only move faster once theyve cleared the city streets. Not wanting to argue further, Leo grabbed the carpet bag from her sisters arms and flung it through the gap.

Muse gave a muffled shriek as their most prized possessionsfew that they werehit the cobblestones.

You jump first, Leo ordered, not convinced Muse would have the courage to leap if Leo left her alone.

Muse shrank into herself. Their carpet bag faded in the distance.

Leo threw up her hands. What are you afraid of? Just use your knack!

When we're moving this fast? If I lighten myself, the wind might pick me up and throw me into a building!

Groaning inwardly, Leo focused on her sister. She hated using her magic at all, but using it on little Muse seemed especially foul. Still, desperate times...

A rainbow visible only to Leo suddenly flickered over Muses head, faint prism colors like the lights in the night sky in the northern regions. Leo singled out the line of orange between the red of anger and the yellow of cheer, orange that signified courage, confidence, and clarity. Muse stood a little straighter, gave a curt nod, and pushed her way through the gap in the canvas.

Tottering for a moment, she gave a gentle, Ooh! then released and toppled to the ground. Apparently she'd been serious about not wanting to use her knack. She could've saved herself a hard landing.

Leo snorted, then followed her with a bold hop. She landed on her feet. Pain jarred up her legs, but she shook it off and ran to where her sister was finally standing. Muse dusted her faded lavender skirts and turned up the collar of her gray frockcoat against the chill of the night.

Cover your hair. Leo nodded to her sisters kerchief which had slipped, revealing the scarlet locks beneath. Too recognizable. All Fiestro will have to do is ask if anyone saw a pretty red-headed girl, and people will remember you in two ticks of a watch hand. Until were safe at our destination, we dont want to risk leaving a trail.

Muse narrowed her eyes at her sister before straightening her head covering. And what about you?

Leo shrugged. No one will notice me. Still, she reached inside her ankle-length brown coat and found the loose-fitting felt hat she used when doing her rounds at the carnival to avoid people getting a good look at her face. With this settled on her head, she hurried to reclaim their carpet bag and jerked her chin at the nearest dark alley. Come on. We need to get as far away as possible before they figure out were gone.

Though they were sisters, physically they had little in common. Leo suspected they had different fathers. Their mother had always been cagey about their paternity, claiming they were too young to discuss such things. Unfortunately, her untimely death when they were eight and six prevented them from ever finding out. Muse had inherited her mothers flame-red hair and petite frame, traits that allowed her to train as a tumbler in Fiestros sideshow or take a turn as the magicians assistant when he needed someone to fit into a small trapdoor and look flashy doing it.

Leo, on the other hand, had broad shoulders and a square chin she felt would do more favors for a boy than a teenaged girl. Her hair was an unmanageable mane that was a decent match for the carnivals one aged, mangy lion. Too plain and boxy to train as a performer, too young and female to use for heavy lifting, Fiestro wouldve left her at the nearest orphanage years ago if he hadnt figured out her knack.

Hed been looking for it for a while, assigning her tasks beyond her strength, intelligence, and experience in an attempt to draw latent abilities to the surface, none too subtly. Everyone had a knack, and Fiestro was too shrewd a ringmaster to shove aside even a useless child whose knack might prove convenient to him. He kept aged Aster, ever more senile and cranky, because her knack allowed her to know exactly what a person wanted to hear, just by looking at them. He intentionally hired roustabouts with strength knacks. Their magician had a knack for distraction. It was said the girls motherthe groups trapeze artist before a snapping rope brought her untimely endhad a balance knack. Shed been able to stand on a single toe upon a rod the width of a pinhead, posed a hundred feet above the audience who gasped as she spun and leaped upon her perch. Her death had been the fault of poorly maintained equipment, not a failing of her skill.