Bailey cannot tell which one of them she is speaking to.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Marco says.
Celia holds tightly to his hand.
“What would happen to the two of you, if the circus … stopped?” Bailey asks.
“Truthfully, I’m not entirely certain,” Celia says.
“Nothing good,” Marco mutters.
“What would you need me to do?” Bailey asks.
“I need you to finish something I started,” Celia says. “I … I acted rather impulsively and played my cards out of order. And now there is the matter of the bonfire as well.”
“The bonfire?” Bailey asks.
“Think of the circus as a machine,” Marco says. “The bonfire is one of the things that powers it.”
“There are two things that need to happen,” Celia says. “First, the bonfire needs to be lit. That will … power half the circus.”
“What about the other half?” Bailey asks.
“That’s more complicated,” Celia says. “I carry that with me. And I would have to give that to you.”
“Oh.”
“You would then carry it with you,” Celia says. “All of the time. You’d be tied very tightly to the circus itself. You could leave, but not for extended periods of time. I do not know if you would be able to give it to someone else. It would be yours. Always.”
It is only then that Bailey realizes the scope of the commitment he is being asked for.
It is not the handful of years committed to Harvard. It is, he thinks, an even greater commitment than inheriting responsibility for the family farm.
He looks from Marco to Celia, and knows from the look in her eyes that she will let him go if he asks to leave, no matter what that might mean for them or for the circus.
He thinks of a litany of questions but none of them truly matter.
He knows his answer already.
His choice was made when he was ten years old, under a different tree, bound up in acorns and dares and a single white glove.
He will always choose the circus.
“I’ll do it,” he says. “I’ll stay. I’ll do whatever it is you need me to do.”
“Thank you, Bailey,” Celia says softly. The words resonating in his ears soothe the last of his nerves.
“Indeed,” Marco says. “I think we should make this official.”
“Do you think that’s absolutely necessary?” Celia asks.
“At this point I’m not about to settle for a verbal contract,” Marco says. Celia frowns for a moment but then nods her consent, and Marco carefully lets go of her hand. She stays steady and her appearance does not waver.
“Do you want me to sign something?” Bailey asks.
“Not exactly,” Marco says. He takes a silver ring from his right hand, it is eng
raved with something Bailey cannot discern in the light. Marco reaches up to a branch above his head and passes the ring through one of the burning candles until it glows, white and hot.