Half an hour after the show ended, the circus announcer, a heavy man with a green-tinged complexion and dark patches spread over his skin, huffed and puffed his way inside. “If this is your way of catching a free ride—”
“I’m not catching a free ride,” Nicholas said, standing up from his box, though he would have to settle for that if his plan failed. The man had brought no reinforcements, and that said something. He wondered what it meant.
“What do you want then?”
“A job. I’m your new magician.”
The man gave him an up and down look. “We don’t need a magician. The audience these days is too clever for cheap tricks.”
“Not like my tricks.” Nicholas pressed his hand on an empty spot on the wall, and when he removed it, its outline remained clearly burned in place.
“Don’t damage my property.”
Grinning, Nicholas ran his palm over the same spot on the wall. The mark vanished.
(The Nightingale Circus Collection - The Magician)