Crimson "Dizzy" Holloway's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Dizzy had six hours to win a crown, and she couldn't stay awake for the walk to the door. She sat on the funhouse steps in her paint, red hair stuck to her forehead, juggling three pins to keep her hands busy. The pins slowed. Her yellow eyes drooped. Then her chin hit her chest and the pins clattered down the stairs. She jerked up, heart slamming. This was the third time today. Tonight she had to perform in front of the whole Gathering, the hidden crowd that packed the tunnels below the abandoned funhouse. If she nodded off mid-routine, they wouldn't crown her. They'd laugh her out. So she went to the pink powder man. His shop sat behind a warm-walled building with bright pink trim, all cheerful stripes and painted flowers. Inside it stank like burnt sugar and sweat. Jessie stood at a table, scratching his arm hard enough to leave red streaks, scooping powder into little bags. He didn't sleep. Dizzy figured that made him the right person to ask. "I need something to keep me up," she said. "Just for tonight." Jessie's pale eyes flicked over her paint. He kept scratching. "You want my pep, you pay my price." He slid a bag across the table. "One scoop under the tongue. It'll hold your eyes open through anything." He laughed, dry and cracked. "Held mine open three days." Dizzy counted her coins onto the table. Not enough. Jessie's hand covered the bag. "Short," he said. She dug in her pocket and found her mother's brass ring, the only thing left of her. Her thumb pressed the cool metal. The crown was worth it. She set the ring down. Jessie pocketed the ring and let go of the bag. Back at the funhouse, Dizzy tapped a scoop under her tongue before the crowd. The powder burned. Then the world sharpened. Colors screamed. Her hands moved fast and sure. She juggled fire clubs, five of them, higher than she ever had. The crowd roared. She didn't blink once. She didn't sway. For the first time in her life, sleep did not come for her. She finished clean and stood in the noise, chest heaving, grinning. She had beaten it. She had the crowd. Then her heart kicked sideways. Hard. It skipped, thudded, skipped again. Her hands shook. Sweat poured cold down her spine. The screaming colors went too bright, then wrong. She'd wanted to stay awake, and now her body wouldn't stop. It wouldn't slow down. Dizzy pressed a fist to her chest and felt it race. She had solved one problem and bought a worse one. The finals were tomorrow night. And she'd traded her mother's ring for a bag that might just stop her heart before she ever wore the crown.