The Ringmaster
The roar of the crowd was deafening.
Artemus Flint could hear their applause reaching through the wings backstage. He was ready, more than ready for this. Out of all the shows he had done since he was a teenager, this one had proved to be the most challenging. There was no shortage of spectators in Noxbury who had paid good money to see the performances tonight. He looked around at the performers who were making ready, a small smile cracking the thin lips in his square shaped face and his dark eyes full of pride and joy for the hard work his travelers had put into this.
Well old boy…..he thought. Tonight’s the night……they’ve worked their tails off for this and it finally looks like it’s going to pay off…..
“Sir!” a young man called, pushing his way through the already crowded corridor. “Sir you almost forgot this.”
“Oh thank you Horner,” Artemus chuckled. “Couldn’t perform without it.”
Horner Gatsby, Artemus’s right hand man of twenty three, handed him his lucky black top hat. “You think tonight will be a success?”
“No doubt about it,” Artemus said with a wink of his eye. “Tonight is sure to be a success. I can feel it.”
“I’m sure you can hear it too,” Horner chuckled. “The crowd is going nuts out there.”
“If they cause an earthquake it will still have been worth it,” Artemus said. “Tonight belongs to all of us. We’re going to make it a good one.”
Horner smiled and nodded at the ringmaster. If it was anyone in the world that he aspired to be, it was his mentor. Growing up on the poor streets of Long Island, New York, he had run away at the age of twelve and had apprenticed to an old Sicilian shopkeeper who had turned him over to Flint when he saw what a quick worker the kid was. Eleven years he had spent under Flint’s tutelage with a dream to someday be like him.
Outside in the pit, the musicians began to play the opening piece, the drums echoing like thunder and the strings going like Irish dancers. Indeed the music was reminiscent of the far green country that many of the performers had once called home. “Break a leg sir,” Horner said.
Artemus gave him a nod and Horner was off like a rocket to the stairs that led to the lighting deck. Artemus strode out of the wings, his red and gold coat neatly pressed without a single wrinkle and his black top hat perched proudly on top of his head full of brown-black hair. Out into the spotlight he stepped, the crowd roaring louder than ever and the spotlights hanging above him like two brilliant yellow suns.
“Welcome! Welcome, one and all!”
The crowd erupted into a deafening roar of applause that shook the rafters of the massive tent and nearly drowned out the music. Artemus was filled with overwhelming elation as he saw every seat in the stands full from the ground to the top, many of them families with young children who had come to see the grand performance.
“My friends,” Artemus announced from the center of the ring. “What you are about to see is unlike anything anyone on this earth has ever seen before. This is the performance of a lifetime, a show so spectacular that it will have the whole world talking for decades to come! Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, may I present to you….FLINT’S TRAVELERS!!!”
The crowd roared again as the lights dimmed and the ring nearly went dark. The air in the ring grew warmer and warmer, the heat coming out of thin air and flying through the threads of their clothes. Gasps and awed words filled the big top stands while some had grown worried that a fire had started. Red orange smoke filled the air, flying all around the spectators like a hot mist until it reached the circus ring.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Make way for the Masters of Fire!”
Amidst the roaring applause, the Masters of Fire appeared out of the smoke, six men and one auburn haired young woman; the only one among them. They eagerly began showing off their skills much to the delight of the crowd. Flames burst forth from their hands, flying high into the air as they took the form of mighty Chinese dragons, salamanders and brilliant, screeching firebirds who tossed sparks and embers as they unfurled their glowing hot wings. One of the masters let forth a huge plume of fire in a single breath while the auburn haired beauty danced on the flames themselves.
“Ready Shang?” asked Shogo, one of the performers.
“Ready when you are!” Shang responded.
The two men curled their hands into a balled fist, their knuckles colliding together as their fists connected. A huge burst of flame flared up from their fists, curling, twisting and swirling until it took the shape that Shang and Shogo had willed it to take.
A huge Chinese dragon flew the whole circle of the tent and up into the bleachers, prompting several of the spectators to scream in fright, but absolutely delighted the children who cheered and clapped their hands. The beast bellowed and roared as it flew over the heads of the spectators, the lashing heat following in its wake. The dragon soared over the head of one unsuspecting woman, blowing the expensive wig she wore off of her head and into the seat next to her, her face flushing with outright embarrassment and her shiny, bald head turning as bright red as the dragon. Not one soul in the whole of the big top was able to keep from laughing.
A change in the air soon fell over the crowd and the whole tent, a coolness that was felt by everyone present. The fire masters gave a bow and disappeared in bright licks of flame, disappearing into thin air with a wave of the arm. The sand covered floor of the ring turned to shimmering fluid, a bright blue-green that rippled and slapped against the front of the stands and sprayed spectators with the cool droplets.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Masters of Water. Their ancient arts, passed down from their Atlantean ancestors through the centuries!”
The audience gasped as the Masters of Water entered the ring, skidding down the waves in bare feet and bending the water to their will. Columns of water burst up from the edge of the ring with a wave of their hands and arms, taking on shapes of sea creatures, mermaids and huge serpents. The water began to swell, pulling up and up and up to form a huge, foaming wave that towered above the crowd. The water masters ran down the huge slope of the swell as the water came crashing down behind them, running as though the devil himself were after them and grinning from ear to ear. The swell crashed and shrank when they finally reached the edge of the ring, kicking up a wall of white water that flew onto the heads of the audience, soaking their hair and clothes.
*BANG!!*
The crack of gunfire sent the crowd into a panic. Artemus’s hat flew right from his head, but instead of panicking, he only laughed. “Ladies and gentlemen, be not afraid!” he announced to the crowd. “I assure you there is nothing to fear here, it is only our friends the Masters of the Air!”
A strong breeze blew through the tent as two men, one a grown man of thirty and his partner, a mere boy of fourteen; came charging in on a pair of black Appaloosa mares. They slalomed along through the poles that jutted up out of the ground, shooting at the targets with remarkable accuracy. The bullets hit the metal with a loud *PING!*, knocking them back one by one much to the delight of the audience.
From the skylight at the top of the tent came the rest of the air masters, diving down from high up with nothing to hang onto but a thin rope. They yelled and hollered with elation as the crowd watched them in wide eyed aw, swooping from one corner of the tent to another, leaping from rope to rope and catching each other by the hand. Blasts of cool air whipped and curled beneath their feet wherever they moved and flew. No one could believe such a sight. It was so incredible that many would have thought it was only a dream and nothing more. The air masters soon disappeared, flying straight out of the great opening in the roof of the tent and making way for the next act.
The ground began to shake and a deep rumbling was heard. The crowd went quiet as a slight quake was felt beneath the stands. Another quake rippled beneath their seats before the Masters of the Earth burst forth out of the ground with the dirt and sand of the ring falling behind them like rain. Applause erupted from the audience and Artemus announced their arrival.
“Behold! The Masters of the Earth, those who shake the ground and bend it to their will! The very men and women who can move even the most immovable of mountains!”
The earth masters stirred up every manner of rock, sand and dirt from the tent floor. The earth surged beneath their feet as they slid down the crests and swells as though they were water. The men and women kicked up rocks and boulders, smashing them into tiny pieces with bare knuckles to the delight of the crowd. The rocks and boulders burst open like fireworks, while two of the masters jumped atop the boulders and lifted themselves high into the air before the stones slammed right into the ground and shook the floor beneath them. A huge surge of earth swelled up from the ground like a great wave, the earth masters diving right into it, swallowed up by the ground until they disappeared and it lay flat.
“Bravo!! Bravo!!” Artemus announced. “A grand entrance and grand leave, courtesy of the Masters of the Earth!”
The crowd applauded and the lights had begun to dim, fading from a pale yellow to the softest blue. The breath of the audience billowed from their nostrils and mouths in a white fog as the tent suddenly went cold. A woman’s voice was heard, high and sirenlike, but no one could see her.
“And now ladies and gentlemen we come to the finale of our opening act,” Artemus announced before the woman’s voice was heard again, enthralling the audience. “I give you, from the far north where the polar bears roam free and the frozen earth is as white as snow……The Masters of the Ice!”
A huge mound of snow and ice rose up out of the ground, rising high into the air before the Ice Masters made their entrance into the ring, sliding down the slope on skis and gliding across the frozen surface of the ring on skates that scraped against the hard, unblemished surface. A light snowfall fell through the opening in the top of the tent as the Ice Masters displayed their incredible skills for the audience, spinning, jumping, gliding and dancing effortlessly on the slippery ice until the group parted to reveal a huge, intricate snowflake embossed on the rink’s surface. The mages gathered up the energy around them and the snowflake began to lift high up off the ground, following the slow movement of the mages’ hands and arms before it hung well above their heads. With a burst of white light, the snowflake shattered into countless little pieces, the delicate flakes falling on the heads of the spectators.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Give a round of applause for Flint’s Travelers!” Artemus announced.
The crowd went absolutely wild when the Ice Masters left the ring, crying out for more and hungering for another performance. The cheers and whistles were deafening when Artemus finally took a bow and disappeared from the arena in a flash of brightly colored smoke.
