Prologue

Everyone is welcome in the Circus...

To: my wife, I love you now and forever, penguin.

Outside of Dallas, Texas

Charon Lewis, the Tremendous Magician, stumbled over his boots, which had been on his feet for the last twelve hours. He wanted nothing more than to take them off, kick up his smelly feet, and go to bed, but the big top had to be taken down before they could be done for the night. The Circus was packing up for the day, moving on to somewhere else in the morning. It was nothing new to Charon; he had been in this life for a long time, jumping from city to city and showing all the poor folk his magic, bringing a smile to their faces, even if he couldn't smile anymore.

The great Magician, the master of the sad clowns, couldn't smile anymore because of his poor Luna. His heart still ached for her on nights such as these when he was having trouble getting back to his cart. It was near the back of the circle, away from everyone else, who was still at the fire, drinking and laughing. He needed sleep. He needed Luna's memories to go away, hopefully not turning into nightmares.

The beer wasn't helping. He had drank too much. Vilas said he had drunk too much. She was often right about such things now that he was staggering to walk without the world spinning.

He stop to lean against one of the old wooden carts and trying not to piss his pants. He went to take his member out, but before he did so, he looked skyward. The stars out here in the country were a sight to behold. They seemed to be endless, and they made him smile. He recalled the first time he took Luna out into the country so she could see the heavens.

She started to weep. She had never been outside of the city, New York City, until he took her hand, pulling her out into the world.

He whispered into her ear about how he would lay on the deck of the ship coming from the old country, watching the stars, dreaming of a better life. He got a better life, but the Heavens could be cruel. It was short lived.

He smiled at the heavens, seeing a few airships float on by before he shook his head, going back to the need in his pants. The world has changed a lot since he traveled across the ocean. Magic was dying, technology was winning out, and the Great War had come and gone with millions of men dead. Now, a dust bowl was swallowing up the heart of the country. It was the reason Azrael Odd, the ringmaster, had allowed some of the poorer families to come into the show for free.

Azrael could let it happen from time to time. He had wealth like no one else Charon had seen before in his life, and like everyone at the Circus, it was a kindness not to ask about one's past.

He didn't want to talk about his, and no one else wanted to either.

The waterfall filled with beer started to come from him when he saw the strangest sight ahead of him, which was something to be said in his line of work. There was a man back there at the fire who could turned into a minotaur. One of those fools could pull knives out of his body like they were hidden in his fat, and the lovely Vilas could light up a room, literally, when she sang songs.

But Charon was watching three cats stroll across the field carrying food with them as if they were being ordered to do so. He blinked a couple of times, whispering a spell to himself and making him sober in the blink of an eye. He almost couldn't believe it, but he rushed to watch the cats go behind a turned-over cart.

He rolled his old jaw, matching his ugly, drawn-out face. Charon wasn't a man easy on the eyes; that was Luna's job, but he was a man of great power. He slowly moved across the field with his long legs like a praying mantis and then heard the soft hum from a sixteen-year-old girl surrounded by cats. She was singing to them like they were her children, but they didn't hear Charon coming up from behind them. He reached over the cart, grabbing her by the collar of her shirt and jerking her off the ground as she shouted with fright.

He turned her face to him as the cats, all but one, a black and white one, raced for freedom. The black and white cat with his deep green eyes named Stanly sat there licking his paws while the girl's lovely green eyes matching Stanly went wide with fear. She had a round and soft face, telling Charon she would grow up to be a lovely woman, and she looked like Luna. Her cheeks were a bit red, her nose was spotted with freckles, and her hair was a deep black like her cat's fur, while one-half of it was a bright blue.

"Got ya," he hissed. "Ya be the one stealin' our food."

"No, sir," the girl cried with big tears rolling down her cheeks. "Well, only a little, sir. I'm ... hungry, sir."

"I'm sure you are, clown," he hissed again, "but we shall see what the ringmaster wants to do with ya."

"Please, sir, please," the girl cried. "I'll be on my way."

Charon was standing behind her while she was on her knees, begging with her hand's cup to Azrael standing on the last step to his cart. He was a mighty man with deep red eyes and pale skin like Luna had or the moon, and he always wore the fineness of clothes, but he was never seen without his cane. The cane of his family, which some said gave him his power, but Charon wasn't so sure of it. The skull on the top of the cane, silver with purple eyes, sometimes seemed to move in the light, but he could never actually catch it moving.

Azrael stared down at her as he rubbed his midnight black mustache and goatee still formed from the oil he used, and his long black hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"I won't bother any of you again," she cried. "Just let me go, please. We need to go."

The cat was between her knees, hiding from Azrael.

"Are you in trouble with the law, young lady?" Azrael asked.

"No, sir."

"Are you in trouble with anyone else?"

"I, hm, best not to say, sir," she said. "They're some nasty guns, sir."

He nodded and said, "But not the law?"

"No, sir."

He nodded, looking at everyone gathering around them and stopping on Charon, standing behind her with his eyes narrowing at the ringmaster.

"Well," Azrael said, walking down the steps and kneeling, "young lady, I'll give you the same choice I've given all my people." He stuck out his hand. "Work for me for two years, get paid well, see the world, but you're under my protection for those years, and I owe you as such. What do you say, young lady?"

She looked around at everyone and then back to the red irises of this powerful man and said, "What job will I do?"

"How about a clown?" Azrael asked, making Charon grunt.

"Sure thing, sir," she said, taking his hand. "Will we get fed?"

"Yes, you both will get fed," he said softly, smiling at her and glancing down at the cat. "What's your name, young lady?"

"Lucille Nightleaf, sir."

"Welcome to the show, Lucille."