On the days the theater was dark, Brader took his wife and children away to find various amusements about the city—anything to get them away from the crowded house and the demands of the theater. In the markets they found necessities for the company, like pigments and cloth, toys, puppet and mummer’s shows to amuse the children, and dressmakers for Merina. The long months of deprivation had been hard on her, and he was happy to buy her the pretty things that made her so happy. Good food and a proper roof over their heads had put the roses back in her cheeks and the children’s, too. He didn’t ever want them to suffer like that again. If only Atre could be content here, and live quietly. Sometimes Brader wished he could pack up his family and leave the company, setting up somewhere to herd cattle, as he had as a boy, before Atre had lured him away to this traveling life. How many years had it been? He’d lost count. He’d forgotten what his mother’s face looked like.

He’d had other wives and other children, and walked away when he had to, but Merina was different; leaving her and the children would be like cutting out his own heart. And so he couldn’t leave Atre, either—the man his children called uncle, as others had before.

Returning from such a day out, Brader found Atre in the room with the bucolic murals that might have served as a salon in the past, but was now a practice space. He was helping the twins with their tumbling skills, and laughing with them as they flipped backward and walked on their hands in their loose-fitting leggings and tunics. They were playing mischievous spirits in the play opening the following week. They adored Atre and lived for his praise.

“Excellent! Outstanding!” Atre cried. “You’ll have the audience believing you can float and fly like hummingbirds at this rate. Ah, Brader, back so soon?”

“It’s going to rain,” Merina told him, kissing Teibo and Tanni. “Such hard work, you two! Now, children, I believe it’s your turn to practice with Uncle Atre. Run upstairs and change your clothes.”

Atre kissed her on both cheeks. “They are coming along well, too. They have their mother’s talent.”

“I should hope so!” Merina laughed as she followed her children upstairs.

“Can we go now, Master Atre?” asked Teibo.

“Yes, go have some fun. You’ve earned it. Just be ready for practice tomorrow morning.”

“We will!” Tanni said as she followed her brother from the room, already pulling off her sweat-soaked tunic.

When they were alone, Atre looked closely at Brader. “You’re looking weary, cousin, and I see some lines around your eyes.”

Brader nodded, resigned. “Yes, it’s time.”

“Tonight, then, after the show.”