~~~ August 23rd; Vienna ~~~
The crowd had swelled to a thousand strong when the bell loudly tolled 13. Yulio resisted the urge to check his pocket watch as he stood to the side of the grand tent. Callista was on stage, and Yulio knew how she hated to be interrupted during her tricks. It was bad enough with all the humans taking pictures of her acts with their blasted phones. The wards on the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the small circus would see the photos were scrambled in the morning, and the guests would not remember being at the circus- only that they had a fun night out with friends.
It had to be so- by the Keeper's order.
So Yulio gave Callista a curt nod as she continued her act, letting her know to finish up the performance when she was able. He slipped out through the folds of the tent, making his way to the Keeper's pavilion for the night's instructions.
The old man sat inside an unadorned tent, the sign on the front proclaiming the act inside was closed for the evening. The Keeper's arms, legs and face were all wrinkled leather beneath the folds of his heavy coat, the wisps of white hair all that remained after centuries of aging. He sat before an open fire, an old kettle boiling with water over the flames. The air in the tent shifted and Yulio caught the smell of Passion Fruit. An newer tea, but the master enjoyed new things now and then.
"We are close tonight, Yulio," the old man said, seizing a cup from the ground. "I can feel it. Very close!"
We are always close, Yulio thought, his face scowling. Instead, he asked "Where shall we go tonight, Keeper?"
The old man paused, sniffed the air, and began pouring his tea. "I think you will go to the City Hall," he said. "Have the players assemble. The Harlequin has inducted a new player tonight. An important piece in the game. We must remove his new pawn before it is traded into a Queen."
Yulio bowed. "By your will," he said, turning to leave.
"Yulio."
The ringmaster paused, one hand on the tent flap.
"If you lose faith in me again, I will replace you."
Yulio did not respond to the comment and stepped through the tent. Outside, perched on a tree made of blackened steel, a flock of paper birds sat twittering away at one another, flapping and jumping from one branch to the next much to the amazement of a band of visitors. As one they all perked up as Yulio approached.
"Go to the players," he instructed. "They will finish their performances, and the guests must leave. We assemble tonight at the front gate before the clock strikes 14."
The birds bobbed their heads as one and took flight, scattering to the tents about them. Yulio checked his watch, noted the time, and began strolling toward the exit of the circus, his walking stick in one hand and top hat in another.
A new player for the Harlequin...
Tonight would be a dangerous night.