Chapter 53 stormy ocean

Dublin, June 1901 After the illusionist bowed, she disappeared before the eyes of her ecstatic audience, who clapped their hands high-five into the empty air.They got up from their seats, some chirping with their companions, either marveling at the trick or at the reappearance of a door in the side of the striped tent as they left. There was a man sitting on the outer ring of the chair, lingering on the seat as everyone left.His eyes, almost entirely hidden in the shadow cast by the bowler hat, were fixed on the space in the center of the circle where the mesmer had occupied not so long ago.

The rest of the audience left. The man continued to sit. After a few minutes, the door disappeared into the wall of the tent and disappeared again. The man's gaze was unwavering, not even a glance towards the disappearing door. A moment later, Celia.Bowen sat in front of him, turned sideways, leaning his arm on the back of the chair.She was dressed just as she had been during the show, a white gown covered with jigsaw pieces that hadn't yet been put together, falling down the skirt into the darkness. Come and see me.She said with unconcealed joy. I had a couple of days off and Marco said: You haven't been in that part of London lately.

We're going to London in the autumn, says Celia: It's kind of a tradition. I can't wait that long to see you. I am glad to meet you too.Celia said softly.She reached out and straightened the brim of his hat. Do you like Cloud Maze?he asked, taking the hand she was about to put down. I like it, she said.She choked momentarily when he took her fingers, and you persuaded our Mr. Barris to do him a favour? That's right, Marco said, brushing his thumb over the inside of her wrist, and I figured a little help would help me get the balance right.Besides, you have your own carousel, and the maze is shared between the two of us.So I guess it's only fair to have my own Barris original.

His gaze and touch flowed across Celia's body like a wave, and she took her hand out of his grasp before the wave pulled her down. Are you here to show me your brilliant illusion skills?she asked. That's not on my to-do list tonight, but if you want You've already seen my performance, so it's fair for you to show it to me. I could watch you all night.He said. You've been watching all night, Celia said: I noticed you were in every audience tonight. She stood up and walked to the center of the circle, turned around, and let the dress fly around. I can see every seat, she said: You can't hide from my sight even if you sit in the back row.

I thought, if I sat in the front row, I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to touch you.Marco said, get off the chairs and stand in the circular performance space, just inside the first row of chairs. Am I close enough to experience your illusion?she asked. If I say no, will you come closer?He responded with an eye for an eye, not bothering to hide the bright smile on his face. Celia responded by taking a step toward him, the hem of her gown brushing past his shoes, close enough for him to lift his arm and wrap his hand lightly around her waist. You didn't have to touch me last time.She said, but did not protest.

I want to try something special.Marco said. should i close my eyesCelia said mischievously.He didn't answer, but turned her around so that her back was facing him, with his hands still around her waist. Look at it.He whispered in her ear. The striped canvas on the side of the tent stiffened, and when the cloth turned into paper, the soft surface became harder and harder.Words have emerged on the wall, and the printed and typesetting letters overlap with the handwritten content.Poetry filled the tent, and Celia could make out excerpts from Shakespeare's sonnets and fragments of hymns dedicated to Greek goddesses.Poetry covered the walls and ceiling, spreading outward to the ground.

Then the tent began to open, and the paper was folded and torn.The black stripes stretched out into the empty space, the white stripes brightened, stretched upwards, and split into branches. do you like itMarco asked.Once the surrounding movement stabilized, the two stood in the dark forest, and the trees covered with poems radiated soft light. Celia could only nod her head. He hesitated to let her go.He followed her as she walked among the trees, reading the lines on the branches and trunks. How did you come up with these images?she asked, pressing her hand to the layers of papery bark of a tree.It feels warm and solid under the fingers, like a lantern glowing from the inside out.

I'll see things in my mind, Marco said: In my dreams, I imagine things you might like. I don't think you should imagine how to please your opponent.Celia said. I never fully understood the rules of the game, so I just followed my instincts.Marco said. My father still deliberately didn't make the rules clear, Celia said as they walked through the woods: Especially when I asked when the verdict will arrive, or how it will arrive. Alexander also deliberately ignored and did not provide that information. I hope he doesn't pester you like my father did with me, Celia said: But of course, my father has nothing better to do.

Over the years, I have rarely seen my mentor, Marco said: He has always been alienated and not very social, but he is the most like a family member.But he didn't tell me anything. I was kind of jealous, says Celia: My dad kept telling me how much I let him down. I don't believe you let anyone down.Marco said. You haven't seen my father again. Can you tell me what happened to him?Mark asked: I am very curious. Celia rested her feet beside the tree, sighed, and then began to speak, the words expressing love and desire were engraved on the tree.She never told the story to anyone, never had the opportunity to relate it to anyone who could relate.

My father was always a bit too ambitious, she began: what he wanted to do didn't happen, it didn't work out, he wanted to get himself out of the physical world. How is it possible?Marco asked.Celia was grateful that he didn't immediately dismiss the idea.She could see him racking his brains for a solution, and she was struggling for the best explanation. Suppose I have a glass of wine.A glass of red wine appeared in her hand, she said.Thank you, if I pour this glass of wine into a basin of water or a lake, or even the ocean, will the wine itself disappear? No, it just dilutes it.Marco said.

Yes, said Celia: My father thought of a way to remove his cup.As he spoke, the cup in his hand gradually disappeared, but the wine was still floating in the air.But he goes directly to the ocean instead of moving to a basin or even a bigger cup.It was hard for him to pull himself back.Of course he could do it, but it was very difficult.He might be more at ease if he was content with not being separated in a single location.Instead, the process sent him floating around.He has to hang on to things now.He lingered about his New York row house, and the theater where he used to perform.He'd stalk me if he could, but I've learned how to dodge him on my own terms.He hates that, especially since I'm just adding to his protective skills. Will this work?Mark asked: What purpose does he have?I mean, what the hell does he want? Celia looked at the wine that was suspended in the air without the cup.She raised her hand to touch it, and it shook and broke into droplets, then reunited. I think if the time and place are right, she said: It should be fine.A touchstone would be needed, a location, tree or entity element to cling to, something to avoid drifting.I suspect that my father basically wanted the world to function as a touchstone for him, but I believe it must be a more concentrated area.It can play the function of a cup, but the flexibility of movement should be retained inside. She touched the floating wine again and pushed it towards the trees beside her.The liquid seeped into the paper, slowly saturating it until the whole tree shimmered rich crimson against the white woods. You are manipulating my hallucinations.Marco said, looking curiously at the wine-soaked trees. You made me do it, Celia said: I wasn't sure I could do it. What he tried, Marco asked: Can you do it? Celia looked at the trees thoughtfully for a moment before replying. If I had a reason to do it, I think I could, she said: But I still like the physical world a lot.I think my father felt that he was old, that he was much older than he looked, and that the idea of ​​him rotting in the field was off-putting.He might also want to control his own destiny, but I can't be sure because he didn't consult me ​​before he tried.I was left with many questions to be answered and a fake funeral planned.It's easier than you think. But he still talks to you?Marco asked. Yes, but not as often as before.His appearance had not changed, and I thought it was an echo that his consciousness had retained the appearance of physical form.But he lacks solidity, which makes him extremely angry.Perhaps he could have maintained a more substantive state had he acted otherwise.I'm not sure if you want to be trapped in trees forever though, would you? I guess that depends on the tree itself.Marco said. He turned to the crimson trees, which glowed brighter, from ember to warm flame. The surrounding trees followed suit. The light from the trees became stronger and stronger, until it was so bright that Celia closed her eyes. The ground under her feet moved and suddenly lost its stability, but Marco held her by the waist to keep her standing upright. When she opened her eyes, the two were standing on the back deck of a ship in the middle of the ocean. It's just that the ship is made of books, the sails are thousands of overlapping pages, and the ocean on which the ship floats is deep black ink. Miniature lights hang across the sky, like stars that are as bright as the sun and are crowded. I think, after the narrow space, it would be good to have some expansive scenes. Celia walked to the edge of the deck, brushing her hands along the railing formed by the spine of the book.A gentle breeze played with her hair, bringing with it the smell of dusty books mixed with damp thick ink. As she looked out over the midnight ocean to a clear horizon, with no land in sight, Marco came and stood beside her.gorgeous.she says. She glanced down at his right hand over the fence, and frowned when she saw that his bare fingers were not marked. are you looking for thishe asked, ostentatiously waving his hand.The skin shifted, revealing the scar around his ring finger.It was the mark left by the ring when I was fourteen.At that time there were some Latin characters on the ring, but I didn't know the meaning at that time. Esse quam videri, Celia said: Seeking truth from facts is better than appearances.That's the Bowen family motto, my dad loves getting that on things, I'm not sure he appreciates the irony in it, that ring might be like this. She placed her right hand beside his, resting together on a nearby book.The silver ring on her finger is engraved with the complicated filigree work that Marco expected, but the content of the circle script is the same word. Celia twisted the ring, sliding it off her finger so he could see the matching scar. This is the only wound I can't fully heal.she says. Similar to mine, Marco said, looking at her ring, but still looking at the scar, except mine was gold.Is your ring made of something from Alexander? Celia nodded. How old were you then?he asks. I am six years old.It was a plain silver ring, and it was the first time I met someone who could do what my father did, but he looked like the opposite of my father.He told me I was an angel, and that was the best thing anyone ever said to me. That's an understatement.As Marco spoke, he took her hand. The sudden breeze pulled layers of paper sails, the paper flapped, and the ocean of ink below rippled. You did it.Marco said. I did not do it on purpose.Celia said, but didn't take her hand away. I don't mind, Marco said, intertwining her fingers, I can do that myself, you know. The wind strengthened, blowing waves of dark ink against the hull of the ship.Pages fell from the sails like leaves swirling around them.The boat began to tilt, and Celia was almost unable to stand, but Marco put his arms around her waist and stabilized her, who was laughing again and again. That's impressive, Mr. Illusion.she says. Just call me by name.He said.He had never heard her call his name before, and holding her in his arms made him long for that voice.She hesitated, so he said again: Please. Mark.She spoke in a low and soft tone.The sound of his name on her tongue was more intoxicating than he had imagined.He leans over to taste. Just before his mouth reached her lips, she turned her head away. Celia.Marco sighed into her ear, filling her name with desire and frustration she felt herself, and he breathed hot breath into her neck. Sorry, she said: I don't want to complicate the situation. He was silent and continued to wrap his arms around her, but the breeze began to calm down, and the waves that had been pounding against the boat became calmer. I've spent so much of my life struggling to hold myself together, Celia said, leaning her head on his shoulder, to know myself thoroughly, to keep everything in perfect order.When I'm with you, I lose that state and it scares me, and I don't want you to feel scared.Marco interrupts. I really like this feeling, which makes me afraid. Celia finished speaking and turned her face to him. I really want to lose myself in you, and this strong temptation also makes me afraid.I really want to let go, I really want you to protect me, let me not break the chandelier, so that I don't have to worry about it all the time. I can do it. I know. They stood together silently, and the ship drifted towards the boundless horizon. Come and fly away with me, Marco said: wherever you go.Stay away from the circus, stay away from Alexander and your father. We can't do that.Celia said. Of course we can, Marco insists: you and I, we can do anything. No, Celia said: only here we can do anything. I don't understand. Have you really thought about walking away?If you really think about it seriously, it means holding the idea of ​​​​to be fully realized, not just treating it as a fantasy or a whim?When he didn't answer, she continued: "Now think about it, imagine us leaving this place, this competition, and starting anew together somewhere else, really think about it. Marco closed his eyes and pictured it in his mind, focusing not on wishful thinking, but on the practical level.The tiniest detail is planned out, from organizing Chandrash's books for handover to the new accountant, to packing the suits in the apartment, and even the wedding rings the two are about to wear. Then his right hand began to burn, the pain sharp and hot, starting from the scar around the finger and running up the arm, obscuring every thought in his mind.The pain was the same as when the scar was formed, only a thousand times more. Marco collapsed to the ground, and the movement of the ship stopped.The paper crumpled and crumbled, the ocean of ink receded, until only a circle of seats in the striped tent remained. Celia knelt beside him and held his hand, the pain subsided slightly. On the night of the anniversary party, she said: It was the night you kissed me, and I had already thought about it that night.I don't want to compete anymore, I just want to be with you.I thought then, I can ask you to run away with me, and I mean it.The moment I convinced myself that we could do it, I fell into endless pain and couldn't stand up.Frederick didn't understand what was wrong with me, so he held my hand and led me to a quiet corner.When I couldn't explain it, he didn't continue to inquire. He is just so nice. Marco tried desperately to get it together as she looked down at the scar on his hand. I was like, maybe it has something to do with you, she said: so once I tried not to get on the train when it was leaving, it was just as painful.We are really bound together. It turns out that you wanted to go far away with me before, Marco said, although the lingering pain was still there, he still smiled. I really didn't expect that kiss to be so effective. You could have made me forget, just as easily as you could have erased that memory of everyone at the party. That's not particularly easy to do, Marco said, and I don't want you to forget. I can't forget, Celia said: What do you think? It was miserable, but the pain itself slowly subsided.I told Alexander that night that I wanted to quit.I must not have meant it at the time, I was just trying to get a little reaction from him. I don't think they intended us to think we were caged birds, Celia said: Unless we jostle and jostle, we won't feel the bars.My dad said things would go easier if we didn't care so much about each other, and maybe he was right. I tried, Marco said, cupping her face in both hands, I tried to let you go, but I couldn't.I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop dreaming about you.Don't you feel the same about me? Yes, Celia said: You are always here, all around me.I can feel the feeling you give me when I sit in the ice garden.I felt it even before I knew who you were; every time I thought it couldn't get any stronger, it only got stronger. So what's stopping us from being together right now?he asks.He slid his hands down her face and traced the neckline of her gown. I really want to be with you.Celia said, gasping as he moved his hands down.Trust me, I would love to.This is not just about you and me, there are so many people involved in this contest.It is getting more and more difficult to keep everything in order.And this she covered his hand with both hands and said: This will distract me very much.If I lose my focus, I worry that something will happen. So you have no source of strength?He said.She looked at him bewildered. source of strength?she repeated. It's the way I use the campfire as a conduit, borrowing energy from the fire.Don't you have something like that?Are you on your own? I don't know what else to do.Celia said. Are you controlling the circus all the time?Marco asked. Celia nodded.I'm used to it, and it's pretty handy most of the time. I can't imagine how exhausting that would be. He first sent a soft kiss to her forehead before letting go of her, and tried to get as close to her as possible without touching her. Then he told her the story.It is the myths he learned from his mentor, the fantasy stories he created himself, inspired by the fragments of stories he read in ancient books with cracks in the spine, and the idea of ​​a circus that could not fit in the tent. She responds with stories of her own childhood spent in the back wing of the theatre, and the adventures of the circus visiting distant cities.She recounted the events of her time as a psychic medium in the past, and was delighted to find that he saw the same thing as she did at the time, and also thought that career was absurd. The two sat and talked until dawn, and he left her side only before the circus was about to close. Marco hugged Celia to his chest before standing up and pulling her up. He took out a business card from his pocket with only the letter M and address printed on it. I spend less time at Chandrash's apartment now, and he handed her his card: You can find me here when I'm not there.You are welcome to come anytime, day or night, if you want to relax. Thanks.Celia flipped the card over at her fingertips, and it disappeared without a trace. When these things are over, no matter who we win, I won't let you go easily.Do you agree? agree. Marco took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed the silver ring that covered her scar. Celia stroked his chin with her fingertips, then turned and disappeared before he could reach out and pull her back.