The MC introduces Madame Mirage

The lights lower.

The stage is draped in shadow, a thin layer of fog slinking out from beneath the curtains. Velvet Vixen crosses her arms, curious, her heels clicking softly as she makes her way closer.

“And now, Westville’s most mystifying guest of the evening!” the MC announces. “She’s dazzled audiences from Paris to Prague, and now she’s here to charm you—give a warm welcome to the one and only…”

“Madame Mirage!”

BOOM!

A cloud of violet and gold smoke erupts center stage with a flash of light.

When the smoke clears, a stunning figure stands in its wake, hand extended, top hat tipped low, a sly smile tugging at dark, painted lips.

Madame Mirage.

The crowd gasps. Then applause explodes.

Velvet Vixen’s jaw goes slack.

“Ohhh,” she breathes, eyes wide. “Hello.”

Madame Mirage sweeps her crimson cape with a flourish and bows deeply.

“Good evening, Westville! And thank you for the thunderous welcome. I assure you... by the time I’m through, you’ll believe in magic.”

She winks, and doves burst from her sleeves in a flutter of feathers. The crowd loses it.

For the next hour, Mirage works the ballroom like it’s her personal stage. Silk scarves vanish. Cards appear beneath champagne glasses. People float above the crowd, eyes wide, heels dangling midair. A man from city hall ends up in his wife’s dress. A silver coin Mirage tosses into the air becomes a live hummingbird before flying off into the rafters.

“Okay,” Velvet Vixen murmurs to herself, eyes locked on the stage, “she’s good. She’s so good. And she’s definitely—yeah. She’s hot.”

She doesn’t even realize how close she’s crept to the stage until she hears Mirage’s voice again, louder now, ringing with excitement.

“And now, for my final trick of the night… I’ll need a volunteer.”

The ballroom quiets.

Dozens of hands shoot up.

Velvet Vixen’s hand doesn’t. But her body language might as well be yelling “Pick me!”

Mirage’s eyes sweep the crowd... and seem to pause.

“Mmm... what about you, darling?” she purrs, pointing one gloved finger directly at Velvet Vixen. “Yes, you—the vision in violet with the legs that won’t quit.”

The crowd gasps and laughs, turning to look.

Velvet Vixen blinks. Then grins.

“Oh no,” she whispers to herself. “This is how it starts, isn’t it?”