Dan’s eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest. He was suddenly and absolutely wide awake. Had he been dreaming? Or had something woken him up? He listened hard, holding his breath. The night was still and silent. Had someone broken in - was it the crash of breaking glass that had broken into his sleep? Dan didn’t want to make any noise, just in case there was a very good reason his body had stirred him from his slumber so abruptly.

He sat unmoving in his bed, listening to the ticking clock on the mantle. He wondered how long he’d have to wait before he had calmed down enough to deem it safe to investigate. The air in his bedroom was stale and still, and Dan wished he’d opened the window a crack before he’d gone to sleep. Maybe he could do that now. He could be quiet, he’d barely have to move.

Slowly, Dan twisted round in his bed and fumbled for the catch on the old sash window. It scraped noisily as Dan slid it round, and he winced. He liked the noise the window made when he unstuck it from its frame and pushed it outwards. It was a very satisfying sound. Like a dry squelch. Dan sniggered to himself, then clamped his hand quickly over his mouth. He’d almost forgotten to be scared. He took another breath to steady himself, breathing in the cool night air. It felt good on his face. Crisp and cold. Refreshing after the comfortable warmth of his bed.

Dan squinted out into the dark night, his nose pressed up against the glass. There was no one outside, and by now he was starting to think it likely that his body had just played a trick on him. He glanced at the clock. It was gone midnight; he really shouldn’t be feeling so alert. His bed didn’t look very appealing at all. It must have been quite an adrenalin rush to leave him feeling this awake. He scratched his chin absent mindedly, staring out into the night.

The trees were purple, and the sky was velvety. A few stars twinkled and a large crescent moon hung over the rooftops. Dan had always liked the way the moonlight reflected off the small pond in the middle of the garden. The bushes were rustling against the fence, and Dan watched the wind glide through the long grass.

He drummed absent mindedly on the window pane. The fish pond was reflecting especially brightly tonight. So much so that there almost seemed to be lights dancing through the grass and the foliage. In fact, he was almost sure he could see a glowing blue orb right by the gap in the fence. That was odd.

It would be a long time before he felt sleepy enough to lie down again, and he shifted restlessly atop his pillow perch. The garden looked so peaceful under the stars, and without any conscious decision Dan was slipping out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans. He would just go sit outside for a bit, and in doing so he could check for axe murderers. Then he could go back to sleep.

The ground was cold on his bare feet. Socks were a necessity, and maybe a jumper too. The stairs creaked under his weight. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands and tucked his feet into a pair of shoes, before stepping out into the darkness.

There was definitely a twinkling light at the end of the garden. Was there something on the other side of the fence? He slipped through a gap in the wooden panels. The light was there for sure. He padded softly through the grass, squinting into the darkness. It spun in circles, spraying blue and white light all round it, and it bobbed as if floating on a calm sea.

As the moon slid briefly behind a cloud, Dan realised he had forgotten his keys. He cursed under his breath. He didn’t really have a choice now, and that little light was still there: spinning and dancing and twinkling through the trees.

~

He didn’t precisely know how long he had wandered for, nor did he remember thinking to himself that it was a good idea to start following a tiny light into the dark woods. He had just done it, probably out of curiosity. For whatever reason, that little light had seemed to be there especially for him. It had twirled around furiously in his front garden and did not stop until he had come downstairs and outside. It was determined for Dan to follow it, because everytime he’d stopped, the little light would start twirling again (and afterwards it seemed to have some difficulty flying straight).

It wasn’t until he’d been walking for half an hour that he realised why the little light had seemed familiar. It lit the flame of nostalgia in his heart and he gasped allowed as he was transported suddenly back to the fireside at his Aunt’s feet. Had he stumbled across a Will ‘o the Wisp? Well, more accurately he supposed it had stumbled across him.

A pang of fear churned in his stomach. Unwittingly and completely blithely he had followed a little light into the depths of a dark forest. It couldn’t be more to the book. With the tall trees and whispering foliage it was all too easy to imagine a gruesome fate. Would he end up in a marsh? Or just so hopelessly deep into the forest that he had no hope of ever finding his way out, destined instead to starve or freeze to death alone in the woods. He hadn’t taken his phone with him, or even any food or warm clothes. And it had seemed so ridiculous when he was younger, that a traveler would follow a floating light without question. He shivered.

By now Dan’s feet were numb and the lack of sleep was finally beginning to catch up with him. He couldn’t keep the nagging worry out of the back of his mind, Grandpa’s stories having shaken him to the bone. Should he turn back? Did he stand more chance of making it out alive on his own? It was hard to imagine any shining destiny or magical treasure in a place this dark and this cold.

Just as he was beginning to slow his pace, he spotted a glow on the horizon. A yellow light was seeping through the trees. He didn’t remember a house that stood in the middle of the woods. He hadn’t thought there was anything much at all this deep in this forest.

With every every step the lightsource grew, soft light swelling out and filtering through the branches - bouncing off tree trunks and painting them gold. Wherever the light touched sprang instantly into colour, pushing back the dark blue veil of night. The monotonous shades of grey blue and purple were brought to life in the light. Dan could see the vibrant greens and yellows in the foliage and the earthy orange-brown of the ground beneath his feet. He was hurrying forwards ever faster now, an excited gleam in his eyes.

The silence had slipped off his shoulders too, for a low hum of chatter and noise was pouring out with the light. All thoughts of sleep forgotten, Dan was fighting back the urge to run.

When he pushed through the last branches, fighting against the foliage, he stopped dead. A collection of tents, each as big as his house, stood on the open field that was hidden behind the trees. They were alive with laughter and light, the sounds of applause, amazement and happy screeches from small children running around reaching his ears where he stood.

A colourful, garland hung entrance twice his length was guarded by a fairly young looking woman with bubblegum pink hair. She had a navy cloak wrapped around her shoulders to ward against the cold, but underneath her clothes were brightly coloured and hung with tiny bells that sang mellifluously as she moved.

The moment she spotted Dan, a smile appeared on her face and the stick she had previously been twirling around with her fingers now lay on her shoulder.

“Well hello,” she said with a grin. “Are you lost, or are you here to be amazed?”

“I…”

Just how crazy would it sound if he explained that he followed a wisp through the forest? Speaking of which, where did that little thing go?

“I assume lost?” The lady continued.

“I think that describes the situation best yes…” Dan murmured. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go right ahead.”

“What is this?” Dan asked, gesturing to the tents with several confused hand movements.

It almost seemed as if the young woman had to hold back a laugh. Her smile grew a little bit wider and she pointed at the tents with her stick. “This is a circus. A festival, if you may. We are known to be one of the most magical places on earth, one of the most colourful, too. And when I say magic, I don’t mean card tricks or making a coin appear from behind your ear. I meanmagic.”

Her smile turned into a grin as she moved her stick and tapped it on a notice board next to her. It said the circus’ name in carefully calligraphed letters. “This is ‘Le Cirque de la Lumière’. A one night show only, but guaranteed to be the most magical experience of a lifetime.”

Dan leaned a little bit to his left in order to have a peek inside. He could see the backs of a crowd of people and a burst of colour. Cheers filled the night air. He hadn’t seen a lot of magic in his life. There was a boy in his maths class who could lift small items and move them around the classroom with just his mind, but he was the only person with magic that Dan had ever spoken to. “How much does it cost to get in?”

This time, the woman didn’t hold back her laughter. “Don’t you worry about that. Entry is free. C’mon, I promise you’ll enjoy it. Circus guarantee.”

Cautiously, he approached the gate. Her smile was open and warm, and she didn’t look particularly sinister. It took an elderly man skipping past in his dressing gown to make up Dan’s mind. Clearly he wasn’t the only visitor who’d stumbled across the circus mid-dream, and, with a little trepidation, he stepped across the threshold.

The moment he’d mixed himself with the crowd he was overcome with a strange sensation that sent a warm tingle down his spine. It was as if he had been there before, yet he didn’t recognise the colourful birds that flew over the groups of people, nor could he remember the rainbow of candles that floated in the air at intervals, lighting the circus.

In the patch of grassland outside the tents stood a girl, younger than Dan himself, on a makeshift podium made from a few crates piled on top of each other. Around her, small bursts of fireworks erupted, shaped by the twirling movement of her hands. One small twitch of her ring finger weaved a dragon out of the floating sparks in every possible shade of blue, and a wave of her hand brought it to life.

The dragon roared and moved through the air swiftly, following the movements that its creator made with her hands. Out of seemingly nowhere another dragon sprung into the sky, but this one was in shades of red. Dan watched with wide eyes how the two dragons seemed to move against each other, red versus blue, until finally they collided and created a burst of purple that coaxed an awed ooh from the crowd. The sparkles of purple rained down on them before it vanished completely.

The young girl was joined by a boy around the same age as her, the one that must’ve had control over the red dragon, and they ended their little show with a bow, departing to the sound of applause. Dan hadn’t seen a lot of magic in his life, and definitely not this kind of magic. Was it possible that it was just a trick played on the mind? It didn’t look like it. He always liked to believe that magic actually existed and, to be fair, that what he just saw seemedimpossible to create without actual magic.

Either way, he had a wide grin spread across his face. Would all the other acts be as magical, too?

He cast his gaze around the cluster of tents and picked out a particularly striking red dome. The crowd moved slowly, with many stopping to stare at the vendors and performers that passed.

A pink cloud hung in the air over the head of a boy with midnight blue hair. He was pulling the pink clouds down in pieces and winding it around sticks before handing them to the waiting with a flourish. Dan watched with interest as they stuffed the clouds into their mouths, eyes bright with glee. Was it candyfloss? He very much wanted to try something, but he was a good deal older than the children that crowded the man with the sticks and so he resisted, forcing himself to move on.

A girl was playing the harp impossibly fast outside the tent and he smiled shyly at her as he lifted up the flaps of canvas. This tent was far more traditional, there were even a few seats around the edges. In the centre of the room, a lion tamer danced around a ring with a magnificent silver lion.

The glittering beast roared ferociously, rearing up on its hind legs and shaking its shimmering mane. If it hadn’t have been a animal, Dan would have sworn it was pouting. It crouched back down, back arched and paws kneading the ground as though preparing to pounce at any moment.

The lion tamer didn’t look too phased. He twirled his red cape a few times and leaned lazily on his staff, letting out a prolonged, exaggerated yawn. Just as his eyes were screwed shut and his chest was open and unprotected, a snarl ripped through the great cat and it leapt. Dan’s heart stopped. A collective gasp went up around the ring that had formed around the pair, and everyone leaned forwards, knuckles white.

The tamer had jumped out of the way just in time, and now lion and man circled each other, snapping at each other and feinting in and out, trying to tempt the other forwards. The lion jumped to the left and the man to the right. A leap, a skip, a spin - and suddenly they were moving impossibly fast, twirling around each other a mess of snarling claws and flowing fabric. It was a dance, and both dancers knew their steps. The lion stretched and bounded while the tamer spun and leapt.

The lights of the circus reflected off the feline’s silver coat until it was moving so fast it was almost a rainbow of colour. The tamer too had lights now. Dan wasn’t sure when he had picked up the flaming torches; or perhaps they had appeared in his hands. One was blue and the other purple and now, as the lion watched in outrage, the tamer began to juggle. A heavy paw made a swipe, but the rhythm of the flying torches didn’t waver. A bellowing roar sent the flames flickering violently, but they seemed to only burn brighter still. Frustrated, the cat made a grab at one of the torches. The flame didn’t seem to have any effect on the animal, and Dan’s face full of concern slowly began to relax. There was no danger here. It was a show, obviously the lion was well trained in his art.

A lady by his side however was not so impressed. Once the torches had vanished and the tamer had finally succeeded in mounting the lion and completing a victory lap of the circle, she spoke up in a loud, cutting voice that made Dan wince.

“It’s barbaric. Animals caged and made to perform in circuses?! This was outlawed years ago! You should be thrown in jail, and mark my words I intend to report you.”

The crowd was listening uneasily now, turning to hear what she had to say.

“What do you think they have to do to these poor animals to make them prance around like that?” She continued. “Whatever it is, I can guarantee it’s not pretty. I’d like to see where you keep them too.”

She was addressing the lion tamer now, who’d wandered lazily over and was perched atop a fence watching her without interest.

“What do you have to say for yourself? Animal abuser!” She spat. “These are wild animals, beautiful, free creatures. That lion is beautiful. An albino at a guess, very rare. Of course, you’ve done away with that with a spot of chemical dye and some glitter that is probably very harmful. You’ve taken his dignity and dashed it to ruins in the dirt - all for a show. And I’d heard such magical things about this circus.”

The lion had been sitting quietly at the tamer’s side throughout her speech, but now he stretched his paws out in front of him and yawned very wide, exposing all thirty white canines, cruel and curved and razor sharp.

“They’re not all canines. Four canines, four carnassial.” The tamer said suddenly. He hadn’t looked up from the ground, and Dan wondered who he was speaking to.

He didn’t have time to wonder for long however, as the lion finished his stretch and rose gracefully to his feet. He didn’t stop there however, rising up onto his hind legs and stretching once more with his paws behind his head. It really was a very large lion, and the crowd took a subconscious step backwards as the beast’s shadow fell across them.

His goal, it transpired, was to take a cigarette from a tray carried by a man on tall stilts (or maybe he just had really long legs, by now Dan had learned to expect the strangest possible answer). The lion took a long drag before falling back onto all fours with a thud that shook the ground. Slowly, he turned to face the lady who had spoken out and blew three perfect rings of white smoke that floated lazily towards her.

“Ma’am,” The lion said, his voice deep, a rumbling purr. “Perhaps you haven’t been paying attention, but let me enlighten you. This is not a normal circus.”

Dan blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but by now he supposed he should have learnt to expect the unexpected.

The lion took a step towards the woman, his eyes narrowing and his whiskers twitching. “I am not some dumb animal.” From the moment the first word was said, the woman’s eyes grew as big as they possibly could. The lion took another step. “I am a performer. An actor. An artist.” Each word was stressed with a low growl from somewhere deep inside the lion’s belly. “My name is Dave. I enjoy chess and long massages. I am a professional.” Dave shook his long mane, causing a cloud of silver sparks to float to the ground. “We are putting on a show, the both of us, and you are watching.” He took another drag on his cigarette, sitting back with his front paws folded in front of him and his tail quivering in the grass. “It saddens me that you can look around you and see the type of people capable of something like animal abuse, for Christ’s sake. I am an animal, yes, but so are you.” He stumped out the cigarette with a large, padded paw. “And don’t you forget it.”

The woman stood and stared at the creature a while longer, her mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. Then, abruptly, she turned on her heels and left. A few more people started to move away slowly as well, and so the crowd thinned out. The people that stayed stared at the lion and the tamer a while longer, surprised about what had just occurred. This small crowd, small enough for the tamer and the lion to not really notice them, also included Dan.

The tamer let out a sigh and picked up the cigarette butt between his forefinger and his thumb, where it promptly vanished.

“Don’t litter,” He said mildly. “And you really should stop with those. They are terrible things. You’re my best friend, and I’d like you to stay around a little longer.”

His words seemed to mollify the bristling lion and, grudgingly, he lay down by the man’s side and let him tangle his fingers gently through his mane.

“I think they’re rather sophisticated.”

“Well that’s stupid. Throwing your life away for something as shallow as all that.”

“I have bigger lungs than you puny little apes. It would take a lot more for me to get ill.”

“Are you a scientist then? Have you proven it?” The tamer chastised gently.

Dave groaned loudly, rolling over to let the tamer tickle his belly.

“You really are an awful bore.” He drawled.

The tamer smiled, amused, as he worked his fingers through Dave’s fur. Soon the cat was purring with great rumbles that vibrated the ground all around, his eyes half closed with lazy contentedness, and Dan finally wandered on.