Audrey Rose Wadsworth is back in action inEscaping From Houdini.
This time, its aboard the glitzy RMS Etruria, which is voyaging across the Atlantic.
Escaping From HoudinifollowsHunting Prince Draculaas the latest tantalizing mystery in Maniscalcos series.
Credit: Kerri Maniscalco
Read on below, and pre-order the bookhere.
A future that might soon bring a wedding…and a wedding night.
I took a steadying breath and glanced at the stage in the center of the grand dining saloon.
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The long trains on their costumes make them look like shooting stars, dont they?
I should love to have a dress made with as many gemstones one day.
Miss Prescott, daughter of Chief Magistrate Prescott, sighed deeply.
With her caramel hair and cunning brown eyes, she reminded me of my cousin Liza.
I liked her immediately.
She set her champagne flute down and leaned close, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
Have you heard the legend of Mephistopheles, Miss Wadsworth?
I tore my gaze from the hypnotic scene above once more and shook my head.
I cant say that I have.
Is that what tonights performance is based on?
I suppose its time for a story.
…if, of course legends are to be believed.
Mephistopheles is said to be a demon whos in the Devils employ, Captain Norwood continued.
I guarantee youre in for a week of unparalleled magic and mystery.
Each night will bring a new carnival performance, never before seen.
This ship will be the talk of legends, mark my words.
Soon every cruise liner will host similar entertainments.
It will be the start of a new era of travel.
I raised a brow at his near reverent tone.
Thomas choked on his water and Miss Prescott shot me a mischievous grin.
Is there a church or chapel on the ship?
she asked, all round eyes and innocence.
What shall we do if were tricked out of our souls, sir?
The captain lifted a shoulder, enjoying the mystery.
Youll both have to wait and see.
It shant be much longer now.
One more little clue, just?
Were not too far from port, are we?
Perhaps I might swim…
Miss Prescott slowly blinked in appraisal.
In fact, I feel a bit of a fainting spell coming on this very moment!
Do you think its Mephistopheles?
she asked, voice rising in pitch.
Does his trickery work from a distance?
I wonder how many he can affect at once.
I peered at her, leaning in as if to medically inspect her.
You do appear a bit pale, Miss Prescott.
Does your soul feel attached to your person?
Thomas snorted, but didnt dare interrupt this interesting new show taking place.
Miss Prescott wrapped her gloves around her throat, eyes going wide.
You know…Idofeel strange.
She swayed on her feet and clutched her center.
Should we call for smelling salts, Captain?
I assure you, this Mephistopheles is harmless.
I swear my soul is getting weaker.
Do I look more…transparent?
Her eyes grew nearly to the size of saucers as she dropped into her seat and glanced around.
I wonder if theres a spirit photographer aboard.
Ive heard they can capture such things on film.
My clothing isnt becoming indecent, is it?
We might be able to weigh you to see if theres any difference.
If youll excuse me, Uncle said, standing.
I must tend to this at once.
I half-rose, unsure if I should follow, when Mrs. Harvey patted my hand.
Im sure everything is fine, dear.
She nodded toward the stage.
Its about to begin.
My nose burned, but it was a minor nuisance compared to how quickly my pulse now raced.
Perhaps it was both.
A deep male voice intoned from everywhere at once, forcing passengers to twist in their seats.
I craned my own head around, searching for the man behind the disembodied voice.
Welcome to the show.
A buzz shot through the room as those few words echoed.
I peeked at Thomas and smiled.
I whispered as the aerial performers gracefully descended, one by one.
Of a performance that boasts of causing arrhythmia, according to this program?
He flicked the black and white striped show-bill he held.
I cannot wait for my heart to burst.
Really livens up an otherwise monotonous Sunday evening, Wadsworth.
His mouth curved in wicked delight as every eye in the saloon went to him and each jaw dropped.
It was unsettling, witnessing a man materialize, unscathed by the tempest raging about him.
Whispers of him being the devils heir reached my ears.
Or Satan himself, as Miss Prescotts father would have it.
I nearly rolled my eyes.
As a chief magistrate, I should hope hed have better judgment.
This was clearly the ringmaster.
Allow me to introduce myself.
The masked man bowed, mischief sparking in his eyes as he slowly drew himself back up.
I am Mephistopheles your guide through the strange and magnificent.
Each night the Wheel of Fate will choose your entertainer.
Our tricks might appear sweet, but I promise they are not treats, he whispered.
Are you brave enough to survive?
Perhaps youll be another who loses their heart and their head to my midnight minstrel show.
Only it’s possible for you to decide.
Mephistopheles prowled on stage, a caged animal waiting for an opportunity to strike.
My heart thudded wildly.
Tonight is the first of seven in which you will be dazzled.
The ringmaster lifted his arms and a dozen white doves flew from his sleeves into the rafters.
A few excited cries erupted, Mrs. Harvey and Miss Prescott among the first.
Horrified, he continued, a slight croak now in his voice.
Mephistopheles clutched his throat, his bronze face turning a deep purple under the filigree mask.
My own breath caught when he bent over and sputtered, gasping for air.
I almost stood, convinced we were bearing witness to this mans death, but forced myself to breathe.
To compile facts like the scientist in training I was.
This was only a show.
Surely no one was going to die.
My breath came in short gasps that had nothing to do with the corset of my fine dress.
This was utterly thrilling and horrible.
I hated it almost as much as I loved it.
And I adored it more than I cared to admit.
Good heavens, Miss Prescott muttered when he dropped to his knees, wheezing.
His eyes bulged until all I saw were their whites.
I held my own breath, unable to release the tension in my spine.
This had to be an illusion.
Sit down Olivia, Mrs. Prescott whispered harshly.
Youre not only embarrassing yourself, but me and your father.
Perhaps he was angry hed tested us and found us lacking.
He spun in a circle, once, twice, and the beast disappeared.
A roar of applause went up.
How in Gods name?
There were no boxes or places for him to have hidden the snake.
I sincerely hoped it didnt find its way to our table; Thomas would surely faint.
His hat had been utterly ordinary.
I was almost certain of it.
I warn you once more do not get too attached.
Mephistopheles voice boomed so loudly I felt an echo of it in my own chest.
While we boast death-defying acts, no one escapes death forever.
Will tonight be the end for some?
Will you lose your hearts?
Or perhaps, he grinned over his shoulder at the crowd, you will lose your heads.
A spotlight illuminated a crudely painted harlequin doll which hadnt been there a moment before.
Pivoting in a single, graceful movement, the ringmaster threw a dagger across the stage.
It flew blade over handle, sinking into the dolls neck with athwackthat hushed the audience.
For a taut moment nothing happened.
All was wretchedly still.
We sat there, holding our breath, waiting.
The dolls body stubbornly remained pinned to the board it had been propped against.
Another moment passed and Mephistophelestsked.
He stomped his feet.
Everyone…do as I do!
Passengers obliged, slowly at first, then sent the dining saloon into a vibrating frenzy.
Deciding to let go a bit, I stomped along.
Thomas, a bemused expression on his face, followed my lead.
The pounding drummed into each of my cells, prompting my blood to pump to the beat.
It was animalistic and feral, and yet so…thrilling.
Miss Prescott did the same.
A breath later the dolls head thumped to the ground, rolling toward the ringmasters gleaming boots.
Stomp.It seemed no one was quite ready to give up the devils rhythm once it had started.
he shouted, voice booming above everything else.
Like a puppet master snipping strings, the clomping of feet ceased.
Some in the crowd stood, cheering, while a few men in silk top hats whistled loudly.
she called out, clapping.
I imagined, like his elaborate illusions, nothing was quite as it seemed where he was concerned.
Silence fell upon us all.
Which will you lose before the week is through?
Excited murmurs rippled through the darkness.
What morbid creatures we were, craving danger and mystery in place of happily ever afters.
As if hed heard my inner longings, Mephistopheles spoke again.
Welcome to Mephistopheles Magnificent Minstrel Show, or as its better known…the Moonlight Carnival!
Lights flashed on, the brightness stinging as I blinked spots away.
A moment later, Mrs. Harvey shoved away from our table, face as pale as a specter.
I followed her gaze and bit my tongue hard enough to taste copper.
I stared, waiting for Miss Prescott to gasp out or twitch.
To toss her head back and laugh, having fooled us with her performance.
But that was an illusion of my own making.
Miss Prescott was dead.
