Shane shrugged and began tugging at the fluff. At the end of the hall was an even bigger set of aqua doors, which opened as they approached. Through the doors was the big top, labeled LE HIPPODROME. The sun was shining in the Grand Promenade when Lara stepped into the big top. Unlike the sunny rooms in the hall, the night sky and stars peered through the glass-and-gold ceiling of the hippodrome. Baroque carved box seats with gold reliefs lined the inside walls, with large baroque chandeliers dripping down from the ceiling, the largest in the center dome; additional clusters formed over the seating groups closest to the ring. It was like the inside of a jewelry box. To Lara’s surprise, the seats were all elaborate velvet chairs. In the center ring, the wood floor had an ornately carved and polished chevron pattern. She’d seen this circus before, in the painting Sylvie on the Steed.

“The seat of honor.” He motioned toward a teal velvet chair—what looked like a throne—located in the empty front row.

Shane walked over to the center of the ring and stood there. The room went dark, and then a spotlight appeared on him. “Ladies… and, well, Lady… may I introduce your ringmaster tonight. The creator of this circus…”

There was a drumroll, followed by the smash of cymbals—the spotlight searching, circling until it finally focused on a set of double doors that opened. No one emerged.

“Oh fuck,” said Shane. “I’ll be right back. Time for a costume change.”

The spotlight went dark and the doors shut tightly. Then the spotlight flashed again and this time a man emerged from the doors. He was dressed as the ringmaster in a gold top hat and tails. His black boots and jodhpurs shimmered. He greeted Lara as a late-night comedian does his studio audience. It’s him! Althacazur.

“Welcome, my dear.” His voice echoed in the empty arena. “I know.” He looked down at himself; his brown curls touched his shoulders. “I like this form much better, too. You’ve seen me not only as Shane Speer but also as the janitor from Le Cirque de Fragonard. You see, I can hop circuses pretty easily.” He put one of his polished boots up on the wooden banister that separated the front row from the circle. “Tell me, which one of me do you like best?”

The man who’d rescued her from the lady at the Père Lachaise and had shown her the painting of Cecile Cabot? That had been him? “You said you’d find me,” said Lara, in awe of the entire spectacle in front of her. This world was beautiful. She stared around the big top. It was magnificent!

“And so I did,” he said with a wink.

“Why?” At the gala, he’d said that he’d made her magic strong, but none of this made sense.