Max held Moonlight tightly.

  “Thank you…” he said through clenched teeth, looking at her for barely a second. “You covered me just in time.”

  Moon nodded, still breathing hard, but steady.

  “I wasn’t going to let them hurt you, Dad,” she replied, her voice low but firm.

  Max was surprised—she was already speaking more clearly.

  He turned his head toward Enor, raising his voice over the chaos.

  “Enor! The succubi’s smoke is fmmable!” he shouted. “Use the candles!”

  The princess’s eyes widened for just an instant, understanding. She didn’t have time to answer.

  “Father!” Moon shouted.

  One of the succubi lunged at him with a furious scream, wings spread wide, smoke pouring from her mouth like a poisonous breath.

  Max reacted on pure instinct.

  He spun in pce and, without letting go, lifted Moon as if she were a living weapon.

  “Now!” he yelled.

  Moon didn’t hesitate.

  She opened her mouth and unleashed a burst of fme straight into the succubus’s chest.

  The smoke exploded.

  Fire tore through her from the inside.

  The creature managed to scream once before disintegrating into burning ash that scattered through the air.

  Max set Moon down carefully, his heart pounding.

  “That was… incredible,” he murmured.

  The st succubus staggered back, clutching her chest.

  “Aaah…” she moaned, writhing. “It hurts… it hurts…!”

  Her body began to tremble.

  More smoke poured out of her—thick, uncontrolled—filling the tent at arming speed.

  Max looked up.

  In the distance, Gawain was still fighting.

  The strange clown ughed loudly as he took the bird-man’s punches head-on, not dodging, his head tilted at an impossible angle.

  “Come on!” he mocked. “Is that all?”

  Gawain was breathing heavily.

  Each blow seemed to cost him more than the st.

  “Stop… ughing…” he growled, throwing another punch.

  Enor never took her eyes off the succubus.

  Her hands rose decisively.

  The candles lighting the track began to lift, torn from their holders one by one.

  “Max, take cover!” she shouted.

  With a sharp gesture, she hurled them all at once.

  The candles cut through the smoke.

  The succubus screamed in pain just before—

  BOOM.

  The explosion shook the tent.

  Fire expanded in a violent wave, igniting the fabric, the ropes, the dry wood of the stage.

  The heat smmed into them like a wall.

  Screams. Wood cracking. The canvas burning from above.

  “FIRE!” someone shouted from the crowd.

  Chaos became absolute.

  Creatures, performers, and spectators ran in every direction, shoving, searching for an exit as the circus began to colpse.

  The fmes climbed the tent as if they had been waiting for this moment.

  Max clenched his teeth.

  “We have to get out,” he said. “Now!”

  Fire lit the track with an orange glow as the circus finally began to burn.

  Through the smoke and chaos, Max looked up… and saw him.

  Lionel was at the center of the track. On his knees.

  The lights burned over his scorched costume, his cane fallen to the side. His hands trembled as he stared at the spot where the succubi had vanished.

  As if he were only now truly seeing.

  “What…?” he murmured, his voice breaking.

  He grabbed his head with both hands.

  “No… no…” he denied, breathing erratically. “What did I do…?”

  His eyes swept across the burning track. The open cages. People fleeing. Injured creatures. And then he understood.

  “I… I didn’t mean to…” he said, his voice shattered. “They… were in my head… I couldn’t stop…”

  Tears began to fall uncontrolbly.

  “I forced them…” he whispered. “I used them… like monsters… like acts…”

  Max clenched his fists.

  There was no time for judgment.

  He turned toward Gawain.

  “Gawain!” he shouted. “Stop fighting! We have to leave now!”

  The bird-man stepped back, panting, fists still raised.

  The strange clown went still.

  Then… he smiled.

  “Hah…” he ughed softly. “What a shame.”

  His body began to change.

  The makeup melted like hot wax. Flesh twisted. Bones cracked.

  In his pce stood a tall figure with deep red skin, golden eyes, and horns curved backward. An immacute dark suit covered his body, untouched by the fire.

  A devil.

  The fmes did not touch him.

  “This is getting interesting,” he said, adjusting his colr. “But I suppose we’ll save it for another time.”

  His eyes locked onto Gawain.

  “Good fight,” he added, amused. “I hope you survive long enough for the next one.”

  The shadow beneath his feet stretched and swallowed him.

  The devil vanished without a trace.

  “Shit…” Gawain growled, staggering.

  Max was already beside Lionel.

  He grabbed him by the arm.

  “Get up!” he ordered. “If you stay here, you die!”

  Lionel barely reacted.

  Gawain arrived and, with what little air he had left, hoisted him from the other side.

  “I’m not letting him burn alive,” he growled. “Even if he’s an idiot.”

  “Thank you…” Lionel murmured, barely conscious. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

  The roof’s wooden beams creaked.

  A burning support crashed down just a few meters away.

  “Now!” Enor shouted.

  Moon clung to Max.

  The four of them ran.

  Through smoke, fire, and screams, they burst out of the tent just as part of the canvas colpsed behind them, devoured by fmes.

  The circus was burning completely.

  ***

  The group moved a few meters farther away, until they could no longer feel the heat.

  The main tent was now a giant torch. Fmes devoured the canvas, rising like furious tongues into the night sky as columns of smoke twisted through the air.

  Gawain took one st step… and his legs simply gave out.

  “Ugh…” he grunted.

  He dropped to his knees and ended up sitting heavily against some wooden barrels, releasing Lionel without any care.

  The circus director fell onto his side, coughing, covered in soot.

  Gawain leaned back, breathing with difficulty.

  “I can’t… anymore…” he muttered.

  Lionel lifted his head with effort.

  He looked at the fire. His eyes filled with tears again.

  “I’m sorry…” he said, his voice broken. “Truly… I’m sorry.”

  He leaned forward clumsily.

  “I never meant to hurt you… or you… or her…” he swallowed. “That wasn’t me.”

  Moon watched him in silence, gripping Max’s clothes.

  Max held his gaze for a few seconds.

  There was no hatred. No forgiveness either.

  “That,” he finally said, “is something you’ll have to expin to justice.”

  Enor stepped forward, firm.

  “And to the kingdom,” she added. “All of this won’t disappear just because you’re sorry.”

  Lionel nodded slowly.

  “I know…” he whispered.

  There was a brief silence as they all watched the fire.

  Then Moon gently tugged on Max’s sleeve.

  “Dad…” she said softly.

  Max looked down.

  “Yes?”

  Moon tilted her head slightly.

  “I’m hungry,” she said, clutching her stomach.

  Max froze for a second.

  Then he let out a tired, genuine ugh.

  “Of course…” he said, shaking his head. “How could you not be hungry after all this.”

  Moon blinked… and gave a small smile.

  In the distance, the sound of wheels approaching could be heard.

  A carriage emerged through the smoke, followed by others. Torches. Armor. City guards disembarking quickly, organizing at once.

  “Finally,” Gawain muttered. “I thought we were going to have to arrest them ourselves.”

  Don stepped down from the first carriage.

  He looked at the burning circus. Looked at the group. Looked at Lionel lying on the ground.

  He let out a long sigh.

  “Another quiet night,” he said. “As always.”

  He gestured to the guards.

  “Take them. Him, and anyone from the circus who didn’t manage to escape.”

  Two guards carefully lifted Lionel and led him away.

  Don approached Max.

  “I’ll warn you right now,” he said, crossing his arms. “When the king asks why every time he goes out with the princess something unusual happens…”

  He leaned slightly toward him.

  “You’re the one who’s expining it.”

  Max opened his mouth to reply—but Enor stepped in first.

  She let out a soft ugh.

  “I promise this time it wasn’t my idea.”

  Max looked at her and shook his head with a smile.

  The fire continued to burn behind them.