“No,” he growls.
I watch Cale turn and stride away, his broad back clenched. Tension swirls in my belly. I thought we were supposed to be partners.
Cale avoids me for the rest of the day, not even looking at me when we all come together to eat our lunch. I can practically see the black cloud hovering over him and don’t understand why, when he’s always been patient and reasonable, he’s suddenly being so pig-headed.
I think about going to him and trying to fix things between us, but he’s the one who stormed off. He can come to me and apologize.
That evening, I feed and brush the horses as usual. I’m starting to think that Cale is going to avoid me here, too, when I straighten from checking Dandelion’s hooves to find Cale rubbing Jareth down with a handful of hay.
“Uh, hi,” I call, because I’m still talking to him even if he’s not talking to me.
Cale looks up, and I’m shocked by the black, haunted expression in his eyes.
I start toward him instinctively, panic leaping through me. “Cale, what’s wrong?”
He looks down at me for a long time, his jaw flexing as he tries to find the words. “It isn’t a good idea. I could hurt you. Kill you.”
So that’s it.
I should have guessed that Cale, with his rules and his position as ringmaster, the one who keeps everyone safe, would be tied up in knots over the idea of doing something wonderful, but dangerous.
I reach out and put a hand on his sleeve. “But you won’t.”
He spreads his fingers and looks at his pale, silvery scars. “The knives are razor sharp so that the edges catch the spotlights. I want the audience to know they’re real, but it means they cut. Badly.”
I trace the silvery marks with my fingers like I’ve been longing to. “Old scars,” I whisper. “You haven’t hurt yourself in a long time, have you? Since you were a boy?”
“Yeah. I cut myself all the time, then.” He’s watching my fingers run over his, and I don’t think he’s breathing.
I can feel him wanting to say yes. He knows the act would be so much more exciting if we did this. For us, and for the audience.
“Now you’re a man. You don’t cut yourself anymore, and you won’t cut me.” I realize how close we’re standing to teach other. I get that fluttering, weak feeling in my belly and leg muscles again.
He turns his hands over so my fingertips are stroking his palms. “Why do you want me to hurl knives at you, Ryah?”
I don’t really have a logical answer to that. I can just feel how amazing it would be. “There are a few moments in the show when the audience gets so quiet and still that it feels like the air has been charged with electricity. When Pamela is twisting and turning high above the arena. When Elke and Anouk and I are standing atop our cantering horses. When you first take out your knives. But it’s all over so quickly. Imagine how long we could draw the tension out if you were throwing knives at me. Imagine if you were blindfolded. Imagine if the knives were on fire—”
Cale bursts out laughing. “Sparkle, you’re crazy!”
I grin up at him. “Well, yeah. But the good kind, right?”
He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks deeply into my eyes. “Definitely the good kind.”
My mouth suddenly feels dry, and my tongue darts out to lick my lips. Not knowing how to deal with him being this close to me, I hurry on. “Most of all, I want to do it because it will be the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done. I want to fill my life with wonderful things. Don’t you?”
Cale just stares at me for a full minute. I hold my breath. He has to say yes. He’s as daring and crazy as I am, deep down.
“If I so much as draw one drop of blood, we are never, ever trying this again. Do you understand me?”
I squeal and throw my arms around Cale’s neck, hugging him with all the strength in my arms. He disentangles me from his grasp.
“Ryah! You need to listen to me. One drop of blood and we call it off for good. I mean it.”
“Yes, ringmaster,” I say, but I’m brimming over with too much excitement to stop myself from beaming up at him.
He squeezes my waist, and then lets me go. “All right, crazy girl. Though I don’t know who of us is crazier right now. Probably me.”
I clasp my hands together and look around. “Where shall we start?”