As the music played on, Rayth could feel the girl he was dancing with grow more sluggish in her movements. She fell a beat behind him and had a glazed look in her eyes, almost as if she had been hypnotized into a trance. The incense was starting to have an effect on her.
	Though the chemicals were getting to him too, Rayth watched her closely, waiting for the right moment to lure her away from the center of the back yard. His opportunity came when he felt her stumble, telling him that she was just inebriated enough to trust him without asking too many questions. He smiled to himself.
	“You look tired,” he noted aloud as he led her through a simple turn. “Want to take a break?”
	“Yeah,” The girl nodded absently, staggering once more.
	“Alright,” Rayth let go of her hands and took a step back from her. Turning toward the lounges off to the side of the yard, he gestured for her to follow him. “This way.”
	She complied easily, dragging her feet as she ambled over to a cushioned armchair and collapsed backwards into it. Kicking her feet up on the coffee table in front of her, she let out a slow breath and let her head lean against the backrest. “Did you guys hotbox this place?” she asked thickly, as if she was starting to have a harder time working her tongue. “I feel really weird.”
	“It’s just the Nag Champa,” Rayth lied dismissively, settling down in the chair across from her. “That’s the fragrance we burn here. It helps you relax.” Really, he didn’t know what kind of herbs were in the air. It was just the answer he always gave when the invitees asked if they were being drugged without their consent.
	It seemed to be enough to sate this girl’s suspicion.
	“Kind of a weird choice for a party,” she shook her head in a visible attempt to clear away her grogginess. “I think it’s working a little [i]too[/i] well.”
	“Just sit back for a bit,” he instructed her calmly. “You’re just not used to it yet. It’ll pass.”
	“If you say so,” the girl muttered with a yawn, closing her eyes as she sank tiredly into the plush seat of the armchair.
	Rayth eyed her from where he sat, subtly tracing his tongue across the edge of his teeth. She was almost ready. He would give her just a few minutes longer to keep breathing the smoke and then turn her into his dinner.

[hr]
	Frieda stood without wavering as the young girl spun on her abruptly. She was used to having such an effect on other people. Despite the stature of the body she donned, she still moved with the silent litheness of a faerie. It wasn’t uncommon for her to even catch some of the other creatures in the circus off guard at times—albeit, usually the ones who were built to hunt by sight rather than scent or sound.
	As the girl stared up at her, the ringmistress studied her in return, intrigued by the face attached to the prophesies she had been hearing from the oracles for so long. Her keen eyes were quick to observe the grit and grime that clung to her clothes and hair. A sign, she suspected, that her ancient advisors had been right that she was on her own. For how long and for what reason were still a mystery to the faerie, but the girl was supposed to be alone when she arrived at Cirque du Sombre.
	She was pleased to find out it was true. It would make her easier to persuade.
	When the girl finally spoke, Frieda listened with no sign of impatience. She cared about little else besides learning more about her. What would be the most enticing bait to convince her to stay? After all, this was what the ringmistress was seeking. The girl was special. She couldn’t let her slip away now that she had her so close. She would do everything in her power to keep her from walking back out of the circus.
	The oracles had predicted she would succeed.
	“Lune Smithington,” the faerie purred. Finally, a name to a face. She took the girl’s outstretched hand, her slender fingers brushing against more dry dirt. The feeling didn’t perturb her. “I have all the time in the world,” her smile never once left her alabaster features. “Come. We can speak privately over here.”
	Knowing Lune would follow her since she seemed to have come to speak with her specifically, Frieda didn’t wait for a reply. She simply gestured with one snow white hand and then led the way as she circled around the outside of the back yard.
Wherever the ringmistress walked, performers scattered away as if they were repelled by an invisible bubble. All of them knew not to get close to their leader during the feeding. It was a silent rule among them that she was to be left in peace until after she’d taken her prey. They didn’t know the faerie had a different purpose for the girl with her now.
	Settling on a set of empty chairs that stood across from each other, she gracefully reclined in the seat that faced toward the activity in the rest of the yard. It was a pointed move on her part to prevent Lune from paying attention to what would soon be happening to the rest of the human invitees. If her back was turned to the party, she would be less likely to notice them be preyed upon and therefore less likely to be scared away.
	“Tell me,” Frieda indicated the other empty chair, giving the girl the option to sit if she chose. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”