Girl on a Wire by Gwenda Bond Page A

sure it was a mistake—but Remy grabbed Novio’s trapeze and swung his legs powerfully over the bar, letting his torso dangle below. Novio stood on Remy’s swing, gripping the thick cords, sailing back to his platform. Remy swung his body back upright, and leapt onto his feet. He waited in the air for Novio to swing out and tap him forward with a cheeky kick that sent Remy close enough to jump off onto the platform that held the girls.
    They caught him, playacting an adoring swoon as they wrapped their arms around him. Please.
    Next, the twins flew off the platform and did some elaborate—and effective—interplay in the air. Novio caught them in turn, and then dangled one blonde from each arm. They speared down to the net at the same time. Dita was the last of the girls to go, and she did several pretty twists on the swing, before launching herself into a perfect triple somersault. Novio caught her, and she spun again on her way to the net, landing featherlight and bounding to her feet. It was an old-fashioned act. None of the gimmicky safety-wire-enhanced stuff so popular elsewhere.
    Dita’s dismount would have been a natural end, the cue for Novio and Remy to catapult to the net for bows.
    When I saw Remy take the swing one last time, I realized I was clutching my mother’s hand. She’d believe it was just nerves about the decision to come. But it wasn’t. I wanted to know what he was going to do. And then it was clear.
    He was going to try it.
    He built up speed even more quickly than he had the night before. Novio bided his time, swinging back and forth, waiting for the catch.
    Finally, Remy sallied forth. Until he started to spin, I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it. After the third revolution, the audience lifted to its feet, shocked when they saw he was attempting a quadruple.
    Remy made the fourth spin look easy, just as he had the night before. And, just as the night before, he missed his mark coming out of it. Barely. Novio’s hands slipped past his, and Remy plummeted into the net.
    But he didn’t punch it. His hands were relaxed. If his shoulders were tight, he made a good show of making way for Novio’s own flip down to join him, smiling as he grabbed his sister’s hand and joined the troupe for a line of deep bows.
    The crowd showered its favorites with adoration. Thurston was on his feet in front of me, gaping at Remy in surprise.
    So Remy tried the quad, after all. I was . . . proud of him, which was ridiculous.
    I released my mom’s hand and stood up, knowing it was now my turn to be shocking. I was going to show whoever gave me that rose that they had another thing coming if they thought they could scare me off with a creepy hair. It was time to prove to Nan she had nothing to fear here.
    I ignored my mom’s frown, and stepped up next to Thurston. “Can we talk for a minute?” I asked him.
    Now? his expression said.
    “It can’t wait.”
    He pitched his ear closer, listening, but not looking so happy about it.
    “We’re doing parades, right? Into the towns?”
    He nodded.
    “I’d like to remove myself from finale consideration.” Not that there’d been much chance I’d land it over Dad or the Garcias. “I can go right before Mom, and she’ll cap the first act.”
    “But why—”
    I was confusing him, but there was no other way—this wasn’t the easiest thing to propose. “How good are your permit lawyers and advance people?”
    I had his full attention now. Mom started toward us, but I waved her away.
    “The best in the business,” he said. “Why?”
    I couldn’t show the nervousness of taking a deep breath, but oh, how I needed one. “Do you know who Bird Millman was?”
    He nodded, eyes widening.
    “And you know about her building walks?”
    I didn’t need to say anything more. He got it.
    “You’re sure you can do it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Even so, your parents will never agree—” he started.
    “Let me handle them. You handle the permits.”
    He paused,