Later, Sylvie and I were at Le Select, where no one made room for us at the bar. I heard whispering about two men who went missing near the last known location of our circus. Hemingway looked up from the table and asked me if I knew anything about it. All eyes turned to Sylvie and me, cigarettes puffing wildly.

“She doesn’t know anything,” said Émile from a corner seat at the bar. Even Sylvie was touched that he defended us. Seeing him sent a charge of pain through my body like an errant current.

When I returned to the circus, Father asked me to accompany him on the Ferris wheel ride that Curio had completed. I was hesitant because I knew that this ride led to the White Forest. I climbed into the car, and with a swipe of his hand, we began to descend.

“They’re saying that our circus is responsible for several men’s disappearances.”

He looked far away tonight. I knew what he was—a great general in the Army of the Underworld—yet he has been the only parent I have ever known. Although I have seen his cruelty, I felt the tug of sadness and love for him.

“Who has said this?” He was preoccupied, looking down at the River Styx to the right of us. “Giroux?”

“No,” I said. “It is all the gossip in Montparnasse. It’s in the newspaper as well.”

“It isn’t your concern, Cecile.” Father’s response was firm.

“Why?” Leaning forward, I touched his leg. “Earlier tonight before the performance, I caught Esmé in the animal stalls washing blood off herself. Then I heard of men going missing, and now you are here and I know what that means. The circus will move. There is a pattern here.”

He gazed over at me, like I was a much-loved doll. “You look so much like her… Juno.” He closed his eyes at the memory of my mother; the vision of her still cut him. How hard to be a powerful being and yet be denied the only thing you’ve ever desired. It was the first time I saw the imprint of his own prison on him. “But both you and your sister have cost me dearly.” He spoke slowly and deliberately, so that I absorbed each word. “When you were born, I should have thrown both you and Esmé into the Styx and let it have you.”

My eyes slowly traveled up to meet his. Those flat pupils stared back at me, unflinching.

Terror swept through me. I gripped the handle of the ride.

“I could do it now, in fact,” he said, his tone measured like he was discussing the weather. “Start with you, right here, then her next.” He tapped his cane, then stroked the arm of the gondola seat.