Heart of the Curiosity

By H. L. Burke

The secret lies with the Heart.

Born with a magical knack for manipulating emotions, Leodora's only dream is to ensure her talented little sister dances on the biggest, brightest stage in the Republic: The Curiosity, a grand old theater of tradition and innovation. After escaping a cruel carnival, Leo secures her sister a place in The Curiosity's chorus line and herself a job as a professional audience member, swaying the crowd's mood with her magic. The girls have a home for the first time in their lives.

Then, a tragic accident darkens the theater. A greedy businessman begins blackmailing Leo, and financial woes threaten to close the show forever. The Curiosity's sole hope lies in a mythical power source hidden beneath the maze-like passages and trapdoors of the theater - the Heart. And Leo's only friend Paxton, nephew of the theater's stagemistress, is the key to finding it.

While Leo and Paxton hunt for the Heart, the blackmailer's threats loom larger. Mysterious figures, cryptic clues, and deadly traps hinder the search at every turn. If the friends cannot recover the Heart in time, Leo and her sister will be cast out of the only home they've ever known, and the final curtain will fall on The Curiosity.

Enter a world reminiscent of The Greatest Showman, with a puzzle worthy of Sherlock Holmes and National Treasure, in this new steampunk fantasy from H. L. Burke.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. L. Burke
• Release date: Jun 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223734512

Book preview

Heart of the Curiosity

By H. L. Burke

© 2019 H. L. Burke

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Content editing by Janeen Ippolito – www.janeenippolito.com

Line editing by Sarah McConahy and Janeen Ippolito

Proofreading by Sarah Delena White

To My Unstoppable Girls: Coryn and Claire

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Chapter One

With a sound like the tearing of paper, Leodora’s knife sliced through the thick canvas of the wagon’s canopy. Behind her, her twelve-year-old sister, Muse, cringed over the heavy carpet bag she clutched to her chest.

Someone will hear, she whimpered. Her blue eyes glistened gray in the light of the single oil lamp that lit the cramped space that had been their home since their mother’s death. Their home and their world ... A world consisting of two narrow bunk beds, hooks holding patched and faded costumes, a crystal ball made of glass and a single incandescent bulb Mistress Aster had been using to train Leo in the fine art of giving vague but pleasant-sounding predictions.

Leo paused. The wagon wheels rattled on cobblestone beneath them. Horses nickered in the distance, the tap of their hooves loud on the unforgiving stone.

No one but Fiestro cares, and I put enough poppy extract in his ale that he’ll be drowsy for days. Part of Leo hoped he'd never awaken. He didn’t deserve to. The thought of Fiestro steeled her determination. Gripping the edges of the rip in the canvas with both hands, she pulled with all her might.

The tear widened. Gas lamps glinted on puddles in the otherwise empty street. She’d used all her wiles to arrange their position as the last wagon in the carnival caravan. Thankfully, Fiestro had assigned one of older roustabouts to be their driver, a nearly deaf man who wouldn’t check on them until the caravan reached its destination the next morning. Plenty of time for the girls to disappear into the bustling city of Versia, make their way to The Curiosity, and stake their claim on a new life.

Standing on her tiptoes, Muse glanced over Leo’s shoulder and shuddered.

Can we at least wait until the wagons stop for a moment?

No time. Besides, the wagons will only move faster once they’ve cleared the city streets. Not wanting to argue further, Leo grabbed the carpet bag from her sister’s arms and flung it through the gap.

Muse gave a muffled shriek as their most prized possessions—few that they were—hit the cobblestones.

You jump first, Leo ordered, not convinced Muse would have the courage to leap if Leo left her alone.

Muse shrank into herself. Their carpet bag faded in the distance.

Leo threw up her hands. What are you afraid of? Just use your knack!

When we're moving this fast? If I lighten myself, the wind might pick me up and throw me into a building!

Groaning inwardly, Leo focused on her sister. She hated using her magic at all, but using it on little Muse seemed especially foul. Still, desperate times...

A rainbow visible only to Leo suddenly flickered over Muse’s head, faint prism colors like the lights in the night sky in the northern regions. Leo singled out the line of orange between the red of anger and the yellow of cheer, orange that signified courage, confidence, and clarity. Muse stood a little straighter, gave a curt nod, and pushed her way through the gap in the canvas.

Tottering for a moment, she gave a gentle, Ooh! then released and toppled to the ground. Apparently she'd been serious about not wanting to use her knack. She could've saved herself a hard landing.

Leo snorted, then followed her with a bold hop. She landed on her feet. Pain jarred up her legs, but she shook it off and ran to where her sister was finally standing. Muse dusted her faded lavender skirts and turned up the collar of her gray frockcoat against the chill of the night.

Cover your hair. Leo nodded to her sister’s kerchief which had slipped, revealing the scarlet locks beneath. Too recognizable. All Fiestro will have to do is ask if anyone saw a pretty red-headed girl, and people will remember you in two ticks of a watch hand. Until we’re safe at our destination, we don’t want to risk leaving a trail.

Muse narrowed her eyes at her sister before straightening her head covering. And what about you?

Leo shrugged. No one will notice me. Still, she reached inside her ankle-length brown coat and found the loose-fitting felt hat she used when doing her rounds at the carnival to avoid people getting a good look at her face. With this settled on her head, she hurried to reclaim their carpet bag and jerked her chin at the nearest dark alley. Come on. We need to get as far away as possible before they figure out we’re gone.

Though they were sisters, physically they had little in common. Leo suspected they had different fathers. Their mother had always been cagey about their paternity, claiming they were too young to discuss such things. Unfortunately, her untimely death when they were eight and six prevented them from ever finding out. Muse had inherited her mother’s flame-red hair and petite frame, traits that allowed her to train as a tumbler in Fiestro’s sideshow or take a turn as the magician’s assistant when he needed someone to fit into a small trapdoor and look flashy doing it.

Leo, on the other hand, had broad shoulders and a square chin she felt would do more favors for a boy than a teenaged girl. Her hair was an unmanageable mane that was a decent match for the carnival’s one aged, mangy lion. Too plain and boxy to train as a performer, too young and female to use for heavy lifting, Fiestro would’ve left her at the nearest orphanage years ago if he hadn’t figured out her knack.

He’d been looking for it for a while, assigning her tasks beyond her strength, intelligence, and experience in an attempt to draw latent abilities to the surface, none too subtly. Everyone had a knack, and Fiestro was too shrewd a ringmaster to shove aside even a useless child whose knack might prove convenient to him. He kept aged Aster, ever more senile and cranky, because her knack allowed her to know exactly what a person wanted to hear, just by looking at them. He intentionally hired roustabouts with strength knacks. Their magician had a knack for distraction. It was said the girls’ mother—the group’s trapeze artist before a snapping rope brought her untimely end—had a balance knack. She’d been able to stand on a single toe upon a rod the width of a pinhead, posed a hundred feet above the audience who gasped as she spun and leaped upon her perch. Her death had been the fault of poorly maintained equipment, not a failing of her skill.

No, the first time he’d gotten angry at Leo for sassing and found his rage replaced with sympathy, Fiestro pegged her gift. Leo could touch upon the emotions of others, pull them like threads in a tapestry, bolstering or quelling them. It was exactly the kind of skill that a carnival master with broken ethics could use, and use it he did.

Even though she always felt dirty changing the hearts of those near her, Leo considered having another go at her sister’s bravery. The orange blaze dancing over Muse’s head had died to a flicker as the sisters pushed their way through the dark, muddy space between the rickety buildings of the poorer section of Versia. A street lamp beckoned at the end of the alley, but the stench of urine, rotting trash, and festering filth wormed into their noses. Something squelched beneath Muse’s worn shoes, and she gagged.

Do you even know where we’re going? she asked.

Leo couldn’t see her sister’s face in the dark, only the dancing magic that revealed her emotions, and there wasn’t much Leo could tell from that. Her knack didn’t allow her to read emotions, only to see them to manipulate. If she pulled at a particular one, it would shine brighter while her magic lasted, but this only enabled her to know whether her knack still held sway. Leo blinked a few times, and the lights above her sister disappeared. Hopefully without them her eyes would adjust and she could decide from facial expressions if Muse had her fear under control or not. She didn’t want to use her magic on her sister again. If she did it too often, Muse would catch on and get angry. An angry Muse was an irrational Muse, and they both needed to keep their heads about them if they were going to manage this.

Of course I know where we’re going. Leo stepped out of the alley into the puddle of light cast by a tall, bronze gas lamp. She waited for Muse to catch up, then reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a tourist map she’d stolen from a vendor the day they’d arrived in Versia. As Leo unfolded it, the gold-colored ink glittered in the lamp light. Probably magic. She’d never known a printer, but she imagined those who chose that vocation would have knacks that allowed for such things. Most folk settled into careers that made use of their knack. If only there was a career for emotion manipulators, one that didn’t feel like cheating.

An illustrated representation of Versia covered the creased paper. While the majority of the sprawling city was to scale, points of special interest stood out from the rest, their icons drawn in great detail. Gargoyles clung to the roof of the city’s courthouse and sparkling coins hid in the water of the great fountain. In the theater district, in the center of the map like a crown jewel, was the domed roof and glinting marquee of The Curiosity, the greatest theater in all of Perisia.

Wrenching her eyes from the theater, Leo found the section of the city where they stood, labeled in tiny, apologetic print, Manufacturers Road. Fiestro knew better than to try and compete with the great sights and classy entertainment of the better parts of Versia. He’d parked his caravan in an area surrounded by smoky factories and dens of ill-repute. The carnival had made decent coin there, staying for about a week, longer than they’d spent in any of the smaller towns. The audience had been prone to heckling, but Fiestro didn’t care if they threw tomatoes and over-ripe produce as long as they paid for their tickets. If anything, the decomposing food made it so he didn’t feel obliged to feed the donkeys, monkeys, and other trained beasts quite as much.

They were lucky Fiestro hadn’t scraped the produce out of the sawdust to feed to the carnival workers.

We need to make our way to the main thoroughfare that cuts through the center of the city. Once we find that, it’s simply a matter of following it to the theater district. She traced her finger down the broad road to the doorstep of The Curiosity.

Muse’s breath quickened. Do you really think we have a chance? I’ve never trained with a real ballet before. What if they don’t want me?

Nonsense! Leo snorted, cramming the map into her pocket before she could question her plan. You’re a natural dancer. Even without your knack, you could keep up with women who have been dancing twice as long as you have, but with it? You’ll wow audiences.

Muse beamed and rose off her feet for a moment, hovering just over the cobblestones, feet twitching in the air. A levitation knack was rare and would’ve made Muse an unstoppable force beneath the colored canvas of Fiestro’s show. However, Leo had greater plans for her talented little sister than a life imprisoned within three rings. Muse was a competent acrobat and an elegant magician’s assistant, even at her young age, but what truly made her shine was dancing.

Those in charge of The Curiosity would see that. They’d see the way Muse floated across a stage, and they’d give her a place on the grandest stage in the republic. They had to. If they didn’t—well, they just had to.

What Leo would do with herself once her sister was securely beneath the roof of The Curiosity, she wasn’t sure. She was a survivor, though. She’d figure something out.

Another heart-pounding sprint through a dark alley, and the two girls emerged onto a broad thoroughfare lined with hundreds of gas lamps. The shops here had glistening windows, so clean as to be invisible if not for the scripted writing upon them, labeling them as fine, upstanding establishments like haberdashers and jewelers.

Muse paused to gape at a white lace gown on a metal mannequin in a dress shop window. Her tiny hand touched the glass, and the metal woman jerked to life. Muse gasped and fell back against her sister as the mannequin performed a flawless curtsy. A tinny voice echoed through the window, Welcome, window shoppers! Madam Lynette’s Boutique features the latest in fashion by the premier designers of Versia. Enter to receive your personalized fitting and style consultation. Open from 7:00 am to 5:00 pm, Monday through Saturday. Private appointments are available after hours upon request.

Rolling her eyes, Leo pushed Muse back to her feet. It's just a recording. Probably triggered by a motion detector to impress the gullible.

Muse flushed. I’m not gullible. She brushed off her ragged gray petticoats. It surprised me, that’s all.

The clocktower at a nearby bank chimed ten bells.

Come on. If we don’t hurry, the theater will be locked and we’ll have to sleep on the streets tonight. Leo adjusted her hold on their carpet bag and doggedly pressed on.

They passed only a few people on their way. A policeman eyed them with suspicion as he shuffled down the opposite side of the street, but he did not approach them. The rows of shops continued, occasionally interrupted by offices, banks, and even a few private homes. A handful of restaurants and hotels remained open, with customers and employees milling about or climbing in and out of coaches. The delicious odors of hot cooked food—roasts, fresh bread, coffee—drifted towards the girls as they walked down the street. Leo’s stomach grumbled. She had a little coin set aside. When Muse was settled, they’d go to a café and buy a pastry or a cup of chocolate to celebrate.

The street grew busier as they made their way towards the center of the city. Coaches rattled past them, and groups of finely-dressed people strolled between cafés. A violinist played a merry tune beside a laughing fountain, and a man painted in silver posed upon a similarly painted box, accepting coin from passing admirers.

Then like a stream running into a pond, the street ended in a great open courtyard. At the center stood a pedestal atop which were nine statues of women in draping gowns. One clutched a theater mask, another held several scrolls, and others had instruments. A plaque on the pedestal read, The Nine Muses, patrons of the arts and of our great city, Versia.

Your namesakes. Leo elbowed her sister. The theater should be just a skip and a jump from here. Her heart wormed its way into her throat, and she found her voice suddenly thick. She swallowed it down. Come on.

She moved forward, but her sister grabbed her arm, stopping her. Leo frowned down at her.

Do you think the stories are true? Muse asked.

Leo tilted her head. What stories?

The ones people tell about The Curiosity. I remember Momma used to say it was a place real magic could happen. Not just knacks, but things that couldn’t be explained.

Oh, that. Leo shrugged off her sister’s hand and continued her walk, not looking back to be certain Muse followed. After a moment, she heard the slapping of her sister’s shoes on the cobblestones as she ran to catch up.

The sound of a string quartet performing on a stage on the opposite side of the courtyard overwhelmed them. Leo threaded her way around dancing couples with Muse on her heels.

Well? Muse persisted as the music faded behind them.

I don’t know, Muse. Leo sighed. You know as well as I the sort of tricks show people use to fool the audience into thinking they’re seeing more than they are. Mirrors and smoke and distraction. It’s how the magician made ladies gasp when he cut you in half, even though most of them knew it was a trick.

I suppose ... but what about the propmaster? He’s real, isn’t he?

Sure, I guess, but he’s just a man with a knack—even if it is a rare, flashy knack. Voices swelled around them like the murmur of distant surf. A light like the breaking dawn shone before them, chasing away the evening gloom and illuminating the surrounding buildings. They stepped into another courtyard, and Leo’s breath left her. Muse rubbed her eyes.

There it stood. The Curiosity. And it was so much more than the tales told.

The tiles of the domed roof glistened gold. Two curved wings extended on either side like arms stretched out in a welcoming embrace. A marquee of scripted letters, lit by a thousand incandescent bulbs that flashed gold, then white, then silver, then blue, spelled out the theater’s name. The vertical marquee sign stuck out like a rudder from the front of the building, ending right above the ticket booth. Mirrors with filigree frames lined both arms of the theater, reflecting the lights and giving the impression that every surface of the theater was illuminated.

A woman sat in the booth—at least at first glance it appeared to be a woman. As the girls stood and stared at their surroundings, she didn’t move or blink, and they realized she was a mannequin. Soft music drifted from within accompanied by the faint scent of buttered popcorn. 

A show was ending, for men in top hats and women with bustles and fascinators filed over the crimson carpet, through the doors, past the ticket booth, and out into the street lit by the flashing marquee. They laughed and chatted as they waited for coaches or crossed to the cab stand where various modes of transportation awaited, everything from the traditional horse and carriage to rickshaws pulled by a single pair of mechanical legs, very much like a stork’s in construction, with a single large headlight in place of a head.

Leo bit her lip. If theater business was anything like carnival business, the employees and those in charge would linger long after the audience had left, discussing the show, cleaning up the mess, and setting up for the next day’s matinee. Since the show had been a success, judging by the temperament of those departing the theater, everyone remaining inside would be in a good mood. It was the perfect time to strike.

This is insane, Muse said suddenly. She pulled her sister into the shadows beneath the canopy of a closed café. Her fingers tightened around Leo's arm, her eyes wide and frightened. The sign hanging over the entrance read Mademoiselle Kimber’s Patisserie in pale blue paint. Even with the windows dark, the place smelled of fresh baked bread, cooked apples, and toasted sugar. Leo’s stomach gave another unceremonious grumble.

More insane than staying trapped in that carnival, praying that Fiestro gives us food so we don’t have to steal from our audience to survive? Leo faced her sister, fists against her hips, determined not to let Muse’s doubts steal their chance at a good life.

"It wasn’t that bad. He fed us most days, and when he didn’t Madame Aster would always give us part of her share. The others weren’t awful. Just him. Muse shuffled her feet. It’s not as if he beat us."

A lump formed in Leo’s throat as hot and cold shame filtered through her. Fiestro did much worse than her sister knew. Leo hadn’t told her. Muse didn’t need to have her heart broken by what went on in dark corners and behind abandoned tents after the crowds had fled. Still, now that Muse was twelve, and far prettier than Leo had been when Fiestro began paying her his worst forms of attention, it was only a matter of time before she found out. No, they couldn’t stay at the carnival, but Leo didn’t feel like explaining why. Not now. Not ever, really, but especially not here when they were on the cusp of their escape.

We can’t go back. Leo cleared her throat. Even if we left now, the wagons are miles ahead of us. We wouldn’t catch up until they stopped for the night, and then he’d know we ran away.

Muse shivered. You’re right ... and I don’t really want to go back. Still— She eyed the theater, the marquee playing eerily across her pale skin. There has to be something smaller we can start with. I don’t need to dance on the biggest stage in the republic. I’d be happy dancing anywhere.

But you deserve the best. Leo rested her hand on her little sister’s cheek.

Muse’s face reddened. You only think that because we're family. The stagemaster here won’t think I’m anything special. A levitation knack isn’t that rare.

It’s not at all common. Leo forced an unconcerned shrug. Besides, I’ll make him want you.

Muse recoiled. I don’t want you to use your knack for me, Leo. If I can’t get a job on my own, do I really deserve it?

You deserve a chance. I’m just getting you a chance.

The crowd of theatergoers had thinned to a few folk lingering in small groups, waving their arms in boisterous discussion. A man in a red cap and velvet short coat approached the doors and barred them from the inside. Leo’s stomach clenched. Finding their way in from the front had been a long shot. Still, if the audience was gone, their time was running out.

We need to move.

Muse bit her lip but nodded and hurried after Leo, skirting the edge of the courtyard and into the shadows of the right wing of the theater.

Behind the arching arm snaked a narrow alley that twisted around the exterior of the theater. The building had an irregular shape with bits jutting out into the alley, forcing sudden blind corners. As the light from the marquee faded behind them, they found themselves in darkness except for the occasional circle of light from a lamp over a door. The first two doors they passed were locked. The third, however, was propped open. Another red-capped usher emptied a series of waste paper baskets into a larger bin on the opposite side of the alley. He didn’t look up as the girls approached. Putting out her hand to stop Muse before she left the safety of the shadows, Leo drew out the prism of colors from the usher’s mind. There, between purple and blue, lurked a gentle lavender glow. She coaxed it out and imagined it flowing over him like cool water. The usher sighed contentedly and leaned up against the trash bin, eyes closed, a slight smile on his face.

Finger to her lips, Leo waved Muse forward. The usher didn’t look up as they passed by.

Inside, a narrow hall lined with unfinished wood stretched into the belly of the theater. Walking quickly, the girls passed doors labeled prop room, costumes, and concessions.

We need to find either the stagemaster or the propmaster, Leo explained. "There are other folks who might be able to hire you, but those two are at the top. If we can get one of them