“You’ll have to distract her while I send it off as well. In a bit. For now, finish packing. Are there any other items you would like to take?” His eyes dance with excitement.
“Now that I know you can just disappear things with your shadows…” I hesitate. “Thereissomething I’d love to ask, though it might be too much.”
“Mercy, what is it? I’ll do anything to make you happy and comfortable.”
I worry my bottom lip for a moment and look at the ground.
“Please, don’t be embarrassed,” Azrael says gently, taking my hand and kissing it. “Tell me.”
“Would you be able to move the orchard and the garden? They were gifts from my uncle, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving them behind after all these years.”
Azrael looks out my window at the small orchard of trees and green, lush garden. “I can try,” he says quietly. “Though I can’t promise. I’ve never tried to move anything living.”
I squeal. “Thank you!” Before I even realize what I’m doing, I leap into his arms and kiss him on the cheek.
“Finish packing. I’m going to go work some magic on your mother’s trunks, and check the orchard. Will you be ready when I return?”
I nod.
Azrael walks down the hall and disappears from sight. A few minutes later, my mother steps into the room.
“He sent me to help you finish. Are you nearly ready?” she asks, glancing around.
“Yes, Mother. I just need to toss in my blankets,” I reply with a sad smile.
She embraces me tightly. “Oh, Mercy… I don’t know whether to smile or cry. It’s so difficult to leave everything we’ve ever known. But escaping Jacob… that’s something I never thought I’d be brave enough to do.”
“I know, Mother,” I soothe. “I think it’s okay to smile because we’re finally happy. It’s okay to miss our home, too. You made this place special. And I know you’ll do the same once we’re all settled in our new home.”
We both dry our tears. I close my trunk, and together we walk hand in hand back through the house, which feels hollow now, stripped of the things we once cherished. Azrael waits just outside the door.
“Are you ready?”
Memories crash over me. I stare at the only home we’ve ever known, hand still clasped in my mother’s.
“Mercy, are you ready?” he asks again.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He offers me his arm—and my mother his other. She doesn’t notice the way the shadows follow us as we move through the streets toward the looming big top tent. But I do. And I have a sneaking suspicion that no one will see us walking… unless Azrael wants them to.
When we reach the circus gates, Azrael pushes them open. “Are you ready to run away with me to the circus?”
“Always,” I reply. “I will always run away with you, Azrael. No matter how far it takes me.”
I feel my mother wince next to me, the sharpness of my words cutting deep. But I don’t feel bad. Iwon’tfeel bad for loving him.
He cups my face in his large hands and kisses my forehead. “Come on,” he says with a grin. “I can’t wait to show you both your rooms. I had an entire wing prepared for you.”
Azrael leads us through the exquisitely carved front doors, where gleaming marble floors stretch out before us. Our footsteps are loud, echoing in the vast silence. Ahead of us, a sweeping staircase curves upward, elegant and inviting. The ceilings are impossibly high, and the walls are lined with expensive-looking art—portraits, landscapes, even some unsettling abstract pieces. As we reach the top landing, Azrael gestures to his left.
“The Ringmaster’s wing is this way. Stay out of it,” he warns, voice tight. “He doesn’t like to be disturbed.”
We walk in the opposite direction, and at the end of the hallway, it splits into two.
“My wing is this way,” Azrael points to the right. “Your wing is to the left. Follow me.”
We walk about halfway down the hall, where two doors face each other.
