Luna Park's Arc

Chapter 15 of 15

Luna climbed down from the beam with the wire still cold in her fingers. The banner shot was already fading on the feed. The scout met her at the base and showed her the tally board again. Her lead was one notch. Forty minutes to midnight. The rival's mirrored tower kept throwing clean bands of light across the front of the grounds, and a fresh crowd had drifted toward it while Luna was on the ladder. She needed something new. Something the wide camera would frame without asking. She looked past the deck to the prop crate the crew had wheeled out for the final broadcast. On top sat a carved ice map on a slate base, the kind the scouts used to mark district counts. Beside it was a huge storage chest the crew had dragged from the empty storehouse. Inside were leftover show props from other acts. A stone owl on a crystal pedestal. A painted cat figure. A small carved narwhal calf with an iron tusk. A shaggy musk ox with curled horns. None of them were hers. All of them were heavy. Luna asked the scout if she could use the crate. He checked the rules tablet and marked her slip. Props from the general chest were allowed for any registered performer before the final count. She had ten minutes to set them before the camera swept back. She dragged the ice map to center deck and stood it upright on its slate. She lined the four animal props in front of it, one for each district drawn on the ice. Then she untied her sister's banner from the beam wire and laid it flat across the map, red name up. She climbed onto the crate lid, faced the wide camera, and began the first eight counts of Butter on the deck boards. No music. Just the steps, clean, with the map and the props behind her and the banner under her feet. The crew cut the beam loop and pushed the live feed. The wide shot caught her, the map, the four props, and the red name in one frame. The scout watched the tally pole. In six minutes her column took two fresh notches. The rival's mirror tower kept flashing, but the camera stayed on Luna's deck. At midnight the head scout called the count. Luna finished three notches ahead. The scout walked over, tore her access slip in half, and handed her the bottom stub. It named her the winning act of the broadcast round and cleared her for the tour pipeline's next stage. He said the Butter stage slot list would be posted at sunrise. Her name would be on it or it would not. Luna sat down on the crate lid. The banner was still under the props. She had won the vote. The list was still out of her hands.