Antek and Lena finally visit Circus Orion, where dazzling acts, strange whispers, and an unexpected masked boy turn one ordinary evening into something impossible to explain.
Antek and Lena had talked about the circus for weeks, ever since the first bright posters for Circus Orion appeared around town. At last, on a cool evening, they stood with their parents beneath the giant blue tent, staring up at the glowing garlands wrapped around it like strands of captured starlight.
Inside, the air was thick with popcorn, candyfloss, and the restless murmur of a packed crowd. Mr Victor, the ringmaster in his tall hat, stepped into the arena with a flourish, followed by two red-haired clowns who moved as if they were made of sparks. Then the acrobats soared high beneath the tent’s dome, turning and spinning so fast that their ribbons seemed to write silver lines in the air.
Lena barely blinked when Madam Lumia entered next, her wand gleaming like moonlit glass. She flicked her wrist, and scarves burst into flight, twisting into a fox, a swan, and something with horns that no one in the audience had ever seen before. Antek leaned forward. When one scarf brushed the sawdust, he heard it—a soft whisper, thin as breath against the canvas.
Then a sudden bang cracked from somewhere outside the ring.
The lights died at once.
The crowd gasped as the spotlights spun wildly across the dark roof. Backstage, a line of performers hurried into view, carrying flaming batons that threw wild gold across the shadows. And last of all came someone no poster had promised at all: a tall boy in a star-trimmed cape, his face hidden behind a dark mask glittering with tiny flecks.
Lena gripped Antek’s hand.
The boy stepped into the centre of the ring, lifted one hand, and the whole tent seemed to hold its breath. Then the wind rose inside Circus Orion, warm and fast, and golden sparks began to drift out of the darkness above them.