Max realized they had arrived the moment they turned the last corner: a strange mix of wood, animals, and something sweet, like burnt sugar. Ahead of them, the street opened into a small square where several brightly colored tents rose up, sewn fabrics and pennants fluttering lazily.

  The circus.

  Clowns of every race moved through the crowd as if the place were a permanent celebration. Some handed out flyers with exaggerated smiles; others performed small magic tricks to draw attention. An elf made coins appear behind children’s ears. A goblin walked a tightrope half a meter off the ground, pretending to be in danger.

  Max felt a chill run down his spine.

  “I hate this place,” he muttered.

  “You’ve never been to a circus, have you?” Gawain remarked, looking around with amused curiosity. “You have to admit, it has its charm.”

  “I’m not in the mood for jokes and clowning around,” Max replied without looking at him. “It’s been a long day.”

  Elanor observed everything in silence, her eyes scanning the details carefully. The laughter, the flyers… and the quick hands moving a little too close to other people’s pockets.

  “I’m sure of it,” she said at last. “The thieves came here. They were stealing while promoting the circus. It’s perfect for disappearing into the crowd.”

  Gawain nodded.

  Max moved forward without replying. His gaze locked onto a particular figure near the main entrance: a tall, broad clown with bluish-gray skin, white-painted mustaches, and a ridiculously small hat perched on his round head.

  He looked like… a seal.

  Or a seal-man.

  He wore a striped vest and enormous shoes that looked like they were made of rubber. He clapped awkwardly while making shimmering bubbles appear out of thin air.

  Max stopped right in front of him.

  “You,” he said bluntly.

  The seal-man blinked.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed in a deep voice. “Good afternoon, esteemed potential customer. Are you interested in tonight’s show? We have juggling, fire—”

  “I demand to speak with the owner of the circus,” Max cut in. “Now.”

  The clown tilted his head.

  “My, how direct. Is there a problem?”

  “We found some clowns stealing in the city,” Max continued. “And they took a friend of ours. They came this way.”

  The seal-man stared at him for a second… and then smiled wider.

  “Of course you may speak with the boss,” he said. “The master of the circus always welcomes visitors. But little thief clowns…” he shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He leaned in a bit closer.

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  “Tell me,” he added in a low voice, “you wouldn’t happen to be taking any hallucinogenic herbs, would you? The city can confuse outsiders sometimes, and you don’t look like you’re from around here.”

  Gawain burst out laughing.

  “Ha! I like this guy.”

  Max turned his head just slightly.

  “No.”

  Gawain shut up immediately.

  Elanor stepped forward, her polite smile firmly in place.

  “We understand your surprise,” she said, “but we’re certain of what we saw. If it weren’t important, we wouldn’t be here.”

  The seal-man studied the three of them. His eyes lingered a moment longer on Elanor… and his posture shifted subtly, as if something had clicked into place.

  “Hmm.”

  He snapped his fingers.

  “Very well. Follow me, then. We’ll speak with the boss and clear up this little misunderstanding.”

  He turned around and began walking toward the largest tent at the far end of the grounds.

  Each step made a strange sound.

  Flop. Flop. Flop.

  Max frowned.

  “Your shoes…?”

  “Oh, these?” the seal-man replied without stopping. “They’re made of a special rubber. Keeps things moist. Skin problems.”

  Flop. Flop.

  Gawain held back a laugh.

  “Of course they are.”

  They moved on through laughter, music, and color. As they approached the main tent, the noise of the crowd faded away, replaced by an uncomfortable silence.

  Max felt a knot form in his stomach.

  Moonlight was here. He knew it.

  And he really didn’t like the place they had arrived at.

  ***

  The seal-man stopped in front of the main tent’s entrance and turned back with an exaggerated smile.

  “This is where I leave you,” he announced, making a small bow. “The boss is waiting for you inside.”

  Then he turned and walked away, humming an absurd melody, each step marked by that same unmistakable sound.

  Flop. Flop. Flop.

  His voice vanished into the circus music.

  Max pulled the canvas aside and they entered.

  The inside of the big tent was surprisingly spacious. Dark carpets covered the floor, lit by hanging lanterns that bathed everything in a warm glow. The air was thick with sweet-smelling smoke.

  At the center, reclining on a low armchair upholstered in red velvet, was a man with the head of a lion.

  His golden mane spilled over a tight black leather suit decorated with silver buckles. He wore a violet-and-black top hat tilted at a jaunty angle, and between his fingers he held a thick cigar that gave off dense smoke.

  Around him stood three women, surrounding him with slow smiles.

  Three succubi.

  Tight dresses, folded wings, gleaming eyes, and tails that swayed like whips.

  The lion-man let out a deep laugh when he saw them.

  “Oh!” he exclaimed. “What a… charming visit.”

  He rose theatrically.

  “My name is Lionel,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “Owner, director, and soul of this humble circus.”

  He took a long drag from his cigar.

  “Now tell me,” he continued with a smile, “what brings the princess… and her rather colorful companions?”

  Elanor stepped forward, maintaining her composure.

  “We’re looking for a child,” she explained. “A small white-scaled dragon girl, dressed as a maid. She was last seen with clowns from the city.”

  Lionel tilted his head, listening with apparent interest.

  “Ah… I see,” he said after a few seconds. “You mean those youngsters running around stealing, dressed as clowns, yes?”

  He adjusted his jacket slightly.

  “A real shame. The circus always gets blamed when things like this happen.”

  He shrugged.

  “But they have nothing to do with us. And as for the girl…” he shook his head gently. “Unfortunate. We haven’t seen any maid around here. Quite strange, though.”

  He exhaled smoke slowly.

  “Still, of course, I understand the inconvenience.”

  He smiled again, showing white fangs.

  “So, as a gesture of goodwill, I offer you three free tickets to tonight’s show. It’s about to begin.”

  Max didn’t smile.

  “I know she’s here,” he said. “I can feel her.”

  The atmosphere seemed to tighten ever so slightly.

  Lionel looked at him with genuine curiosity.

  “Oh? Is that so?”

  Max didn’t answer. He lowered his gaze for a moment.

  The party menu unfolded before him.

  [ Moonlight. ]

  [ HP: 12/12 ]

  [ Status: Paralyzed. ]

  His heart began to race.

  He looked up and met Elanor’s eyes. Nothing needed to be said. She understood instantly.

  “We’ll accept the tickets,” the princess said calmly. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  Lionel’s smile widened.

  “My pleasure,” he replied. “Enjoy the show.”

  He watched them as they turned to leave.

  “Have a… wonderful night.”

  The smile never left his face, not for a second.

  Max slapped Gawain across the face, who had been left staring, lost in the curves of the three succubi beside Lionel. They left.