Chapter 4
Ciela and Michael staggered away from the roller coaster. "C'mon Mr. Slow poke. Who's scared now?" Michael looked at Ciela as she pirouetted in the dust. He shook his head and smiled."Well if you hadn't wanted to ride that thing till we left our stomachs back there..." Ciela's laugh was infectious and he chuckled as he walked over to her. She was a child here, reveling in the sights and sounds. He was looking at the carnival with new eyes, thanks to her. She saw beyond the faded tents and the dirty, outdated rides and saw the wonder that P. T. Barnum intended to show the world. He reached out and she looked back at him, the smile they shared became a kiss.
"Get a room!" Shouted a kid as he ran past them.
"You're just jealous, you little punk!" Michael hollered after him.
"Yea! Get your own you face-painted runt." She yelled. Then looked at Michael who was shaking his head. "What?"
"There are a lot of people here who have their faces painted. That happens a lot at fairs."
"You could do that."
"Yea." He laughed. "I could, but I don't. Anyway I just don't want you to get into trouble."
"Hey Mr. ReCon," she pulled him close, "I can handle myself."
"Most days."
"Most days."
***** Zan hefted the brown stuffed bunny with the huge, white paws. "So why can't we stuff this in the bag?"
"Because I had to win it for myself, that's why." Jayna smiled so he couldn't see. They walked through a tangle of children as Zan held the bunny away from their grasping hands. "What kind of parents let their kids get stuff like that painted on their faces?"
"Huh? You don't approve?"
"I could care less if people get painted or tattooed. What I don't approve of is the subject matter."
"So you're part of the anti-flower power brigade." Jayna turned on him at that.
"What are you talking about? The skulls, bloody knives and the other stuff that's more suited for Halloween than a carnival doesn't belong on the faces of children."
"What am I talking about? What are you talking about? I haven't seen anything like that."
"Oh for crying out loud." Jayna began looking around for a kid to point out to Zan and true to form there were none to be seen. "Well, next time look." Jayna kept her eyes open as Zan laughed at her. "Jerk."
"Hey I'm not the one who's seeing things."
"Look smart guy, I get paid a lot for my observations."
"And I don't?"
"Then you must only see what you're paid to. The stuff painted on these kids faces is downright bizarre."
"Jay, I really think you need to learn how to relax..."
"Fine! There's a concession tent over there. Let's relax with another lemonade. This one's on me."
***** Zan found a table without too much gunk on it toward the outer edge of the tent right next to a young couple with a toddler in a stroller. Fortunately the little rugrat had decided to take a nap, so it was relatively quiet. He looked up just in time to see Jayna, with a full tray in hand, weaving her way between the tables. "I thought you were getting us a lemonade, not buying the place out."
"They had sautéed garlic mushrooms & vegetable tempura," she shrugged, "I couldn't resist."
"Didn't anybody ever tell you that garlic on a date was a no-no?" he laughed.
"Not if we both eat it."
"True." He said, popping a large 'shroom into his mouth. It was quite hot and he tried to chew and talk at the same time without burning himself. "Thash not bad."
"Neither are these." Jayna bit down on a lacy, crispy something or other.
"Jay, don't look now but there's a carpet commando over there with its face painted." He pointed at the small child in the stroller. Ignoring his advice she stole a glance at the youngster and noticed that he did in fact have a crudely drawn white rabbit on his cheek.
"So, there's a first time for everything." She said, reaching for another bite.
"I swear you are going paranoid on me." He said with a slight smile.
***** "That stuff is nothing but solid sugar, how in the world can you eat it?" Michael glanced over to Ciela, who was happily pulling bits of bright pink cotton candy off a rolled-paper cone. She had insisted on getting some as they wandered aimlessly through the multitude of game booths, more than a few of which they'd tried their hand at. They had a small assortment of trinkets to show for it, and one huge stuffed creature that an irate booth owner had shoved at them in order to get them to leave. He hadn't appreciated Ciela knocking down his obviously rigged bottles. Twice. In front of a half-dozen potential rubes. The carnie had shoved the animal at them, then closed a bit early for dinner, muttering obscenities at them as he stalked from the booth. When Michael had asked about her wicked overhand throw Ciela shrugged and mentioned something about atlans, and he decided not to question her further. There were some things he just didn't want to know.
"I can eat it because it tastes good, cavities be damned." She grinned wickedly at him, shoving a bite of the sticky mess at him. "Are you going to help me eat this or what?"
"Well, since you put it that way..."
"That's what I thought." She laughed and shook her head as he took the proffered fingers and licked them clean. "I still think we should talk to the owner of this madhouse. A rigged booth is bad enough, even if it is as commonplace as you say it is, but I don't like being talked to like that. And there were kids around! I mean, how tacky can you get?"
He shrugged, pulling some of the candy away from the pink mass she still held. "If you want to, it's up to you. He probably won't do anything about it."
***** Zan and Jayna wandered the midway trying out a few of the rides that didn't look too dangerous. Most of them had long since seen their better days, and even the blaring music from the ever present speakers couldn't mask the creaking and groaning of equipment long overdue for lubrication. "Aren't there some sort of inspections for these things?" Jayna asked as they got off of the Ferris Wheel. "I could feel it slipping when we were stopped at the top."
"I'd certainly like to think there are, but the proper application of cash on the right palms works wonders."
"How can they compromise with kid's safety like that?"
"Maybe it's because kids don't pay taxes..."
"Oooh, look!" Jayna grabbed him roughly by the arm and began pulling him along. "This should be right up your alley!"
"Huh, what?" Zan tried to extricate his arm before he got a nasty bruise. "Careful, I do break, you know."
"Sorry! I think I just found a chance for you to defend your manhood." She loosened her grip slightly, but kept dragging him forward through the crush of people. "Here you go. Win me something!"
"There is nothing I need to defend, thank you." He looked up to find himself standing in front of a stall fronted by water guns with extremely ugly open-mouthed clowns along the back wall. Each had a balloon coming out of the top of its head. The object of the game was to shoot the clown in the mouth with the stream of water and burst the balloon. "Oh fer crying out loud." He sighed.
"What? If you can't win me something at this game you are hopeless." She leaned into him and whispered into his ear. "This is as close to a pissing contest as you are going to get, hon..."
***** "So just what is a Pikachu anyway?" asked Jayna hefting the huge, yellow whatsis.
"Hell, if I know!" Zan replied. "Let's duck inside here," he indicated what appeared to be a deserted tent, "so you can stuff that in your purse and I can get a better peek at you." He pushed open the flap and was greeted with the unmistakable scent of damp straw. Jayna stepped inside and waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom before moving any further. Zan slipped in behind her. "This wasn't such a great idea, was it?" he asked. "I can't see a thing!"
He felt Jayna stiffen against him and then gasp. "By the Gods!" He could hear her shuffling about in her bag, followed shortly thereafter by a soft click. An area about eight feet in diameter in front of them was bathed in a soft glow and he could the area perfectly. The floor was, as expected, covered in straw. What wasn't expected was the fact that the tent was at least half full of children. They were seated in neat rows on the straw, their hands and feet bound. None of them seemed to notice that anyone had entered the tent or had produced any light. Each one had his or her face painted. "There is definitely something very wrong here."
"That's an understatement. What's wrong with these kids? Do you think they've been drugged?"
"It's the face-paint. What does it look like to you, still just happy pictures? He nodded, still not seeing anything out of the ordinary. She removed her glasses and passed them to him. "Try these on and then look at them." She said. He placed the spectacles on his nose and fitted the bows over his ears. It was a tight fit and he felt a moment of vertigo as his vision adjusted, showing him the children as Jayna had seen them.
"I see what you mean. Those are some pretty twisted designs, and these kids don't look so good either." He walked over to the closest child, a boy of about ten and tapped him on the shoulder. When there was no response he waved his hand in front of the boy's eyes. The child didn't blink even though his eyes were wide open. "We have to get these kids out of here." He said emphatically.
"That won't do any good. As long as they are like this we won't get very many very far. We need to find out who is doing this and why. Maybe then we can snap them out of it."
"That sounds like a plan." He said. "Where do you want to start?"
"Let's find Az and Michael."
***** Ciela pounded on the trailer door marked 'Mr. H.B. Stubbins, General Manager' for the third time in as many minutes. There were few lights on inside, but the unmistakable flickering of a television changing channels marked the windows. Ciela scowled at the shut door.
"It's not going to open on it's own you know."
"Wiseass." She laughed, taking the stuffed creature from Michael. "You try. I think he's ignoring us." She moved away from the door in time to avoid being hit as it flew open, a short, fat, balding man appearing in the doorway. His massive girth was barely covered by a threadbare robe, and he wore fuzzy pink slippers, which tapped impatiently on the ground as he glared up at Michael.
"Whaddya want? Can't you see I'm busy?" His eyes wandered over to Ciela, who had backed away from the shorter figure. He looked as if he was about to start drooling, and she crossed her arms protectively. "Heh. Maybe I'm not as busy as I thought. C'mon in." He moved out of the way and the pair crossed the threshold. "Sorry about the mess, the maid's got the week off." he laughed at his own joke as he reached for a small lamp, a somewhat lecherous sounding 'he-he-he' that put both of them on edge.
"Oh..." Michael heard Ciela's small gasp of shock even as his eyes took in the sight before him. The trailer walls were mostly covered with explicit pictures of naked women, taken from various magazines. Frat-boy décor, right down to a neon beer sign for Fosters, took up the rest of the main 'office' area. The desk had a rather large computer monitor on it, with an animated stripper slithering across the bottom of the screen, already half-stripped and working on the rest. He didn't want to even consider what the hand lotion next to the monitor was for. Maybe the little pervert had dry skin...but he doubted it.
***** "Well that was a tremendous waste of time!"
"I warned you. Carnival people aren't usually the most helpful in the world."
"Fine, fine. You were right, I was wrong." She crumpled up the several sheets of paper the manager had given her 'if she wanted to file a formal complaint'. "What a sleaze." She continued. "I've never seen anything like that. Just disgusting. And I used to think Aquarius was bad." Michael stifled a laugh and let her continue her little rant for a few more minutes, until he was convinced she'd cooled off somewhat.
"Ok, now if you're done yelling, how about we get something to drink. I'm sure we can find something for you to throw again, maybe they have a dunking booth you can take out your frustrations on?" She started laughing and tossed the papers into the nearest trashcan. "Hey, not all of the people here are slime. Just some of them."
"I know..." She sighed as he pulled her towards one of the concession stands, and they got in line behind a pair of giggling blonde schoolchildren, both of whom sported face-paint.
Chapter 5
"So, do you have any idea where to start looking for either one of them?" Zan asked after they'd gotten a good distance from the tent the children were being held in."Well, since I really don't feel like walking around 'til we just happen to find them, let's try something else." Jayna turned and strode off towards the rides, leaving Aquarius to catch up with her. She quickly moved into the short line for the Ferris wheel, which was running with nearly all the seats empty. The squeaking was even louder than it had been before, Zan noticed as he caught up to her. As soon as the wheel stopped moving, she hopped into the first available seat and motioned for Aqua to follow her. He stopped and stared at her.
"You're not going on that thing again, are you? Have you got a death wish?" The carnie running the Ferris wheel glared at Zan, starting the clamorous contraption in motion before he had a chance to get on. It only took a few seconds for him to figure out what she was doing once the wheel was in motion. As she approached the top she started looking around, scanning the crowds. After the second rotation she'd stopped looking around, she instead focused off towards the far edge the game booths. When the wheel finally stopped she hopped off and started weaving through the sparse crowds. Aquarius made sure he kept up.
"You know we have got to at least look normal here, or someone may think something's up." He whispered, pulling her close and putting an arm around her as they walked. "We don't want to draw the wrong kind of attention." She looped one arm around him in response, reached over and started nibbling on his ear.
"Now anyone that could possibly be watching us will just have the wrong idea." She whispered, mouth hovering just beside his ear. "And we're heading for the concession tent if you're wondering."
"Right."
***** "So you're having a good time?" Michael asked as he sat down at a reasonably clean table at the end of the tent. Az scooted in next to him, nodding emphatically as she took a Pepski and a paper plate containing a powdered-sugar covered something. He wasn't sure what it was underneath the sugar, it was advertised as an 'elephant ear'. Typical carnival food - if you cover it with enough of some form of sugar someone will happily buy it.
She grinned lopsidedly and pulled at the fried dough carefully, trying to keep any of it from touching the questionable table. "Of course I'm having fun, can't you tell? There's too many kids around not to have fun. It's like it's part of the whole atmosphere, like it's..." She paused, chewing the pastry for a moment. "Contagious?"
"Good enough." He pulled a corner off the sugarcoated mess and popped it in his mouth. "Want to go back to the games again after we eat, or what?"
"Sure, why not?" Ciela glanced up and across the tent. "But maybe we should find out what Jayna and Zan want first. Hi guys!"
Jayna forced a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes and spoke as cheerfully as possible. "Hi there! Have you two been having fun?"
"You could say that. What about you?"
Jayna paused and looked the pair over. She quickly decided that if the two of them had been sitting any closer together they would have been joined at the hip. Under the circumstances, however, it wasn't the best time to waste time teasing her about it. "We were having fun until we stumbled onto something...hinkey." She sighed.
Ciela glanced over to Michael quizzically but said nothing for a second. "What do you mean, 'hinkey'? Some of the games are rigged, we figured that out already." She paused and watched as Jayna's expression changed from forcedly cheerful to not even remotely pleasant. Apparently that wasn't the problem she was referring to. "Would you two sit down and tell us what's going on instead of standing there like that? You're starting to make me nervous." She scooted a little further away from Michael, she didn't remember being that close to him when they initially sat down...
"There is something strange going on around here. The face-paint on most of the kids isn't what it seems, and there is a tent full of either drugged or ensorceled kids. I think we better find out who is up to what and soon."
"A tent full of drugged kids?" Michael repeated, stunned. "How many kids are we talking about?"
"We didn't stop to count. But there's plenty of room for more kids in there, and still a lot of kids around with face-paint."
"Well don't bother to go to the Manager's trailer about it. He's a total sleaze and not worth the time." Ciela commented, then paused. "Maybe we could call Detective Torres?"
"Torres? That's a good idea, but we don't have much to give her." Jayna muttered.
"And if the cops come charging in here we may never find out what's really going on."
"That's a good point." Ciela conceded to Aqua with a small shrug of her shoulders. "You haven't told us why you think there's something wrong with the face-paint though."
"These" Jayna tapped her glasses. "I can see what the designs really look like, and they aren't anything a reasonable person would put on a child. You probably won't believe me either, until you see for yourself." Jayna pulled the glasses off and carefully handed them across the table to Azangel, who put them on hesitantly. There were several kids in the tent now, and she stared at them silently for a few seconds before quietly handing the glasses to Michael. She looked uncomfortably around the tent while he repeated her actions. After he'd scanned the area he pulled the glasses off and handed them to Jayna gingerly.
"That...is sick."
"No kidding." Jayna sighed heavily. "Now, what are we going to do about it?
"Well, we can't pretend that everything is on the up and up here."
"No we can't." The others could almost see the wheels turning inside of Jayna's head. "Ok, how does this sound? Ciela, you call Detective Torres and make her promise not to come charging in here with the entire J Street PD, then you and Michael stake out the face-painting booth. Mike, I know how reluctant you are to use your abilities, but I think this is a good time to make an exception." Michael nodded, grimly. "Aqua and I will roam the rest of the fair and see what we can come up with. If all else fails we'll search the trailers for clues."
"Sounds good to me." Ciela said, pulling her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and flipping it open. She dialed a number from memory and was relieved to hear a female voice pick up the phone on the third ring with an abrupt "Torres, talk to me."
"Hi Torres!" Ciela forced cheerfulness into her voice that wasn't there, in case anyone was listening in. "It's Ciela - Azangel. Remember me?" She paused for a second as Torres shouted 'seeya later' at someone on her end.
"Yeah, of course I remember you. How could I forget? Hey, is this a social call or what? I was just getting off work and if you just wanna shoot the breeze, I'll be happy to give you my home phone number. It's been just crazy over here today and I want to get out before anything else happens."
"Well, you could say it's more of a business call..." She paused as Torres let out an exasperated sigh. "I need you to come out to the carnival. There's something very wrong here."
"What do you mean by 'wrong'? Rigged games?"
"No. I wouldn't call you about that. I need you to promise me after I tell you that you won't be out here with half the force. It's really important that this is kept quiet."
"You're losing your mind, you know that? I can't make a promise like that without knowing what's going on first." Torres sat down at her desk and started drumming her fingers on the metal loudly enough for Ciela to hear.
"Can you just meet us out here?"
"Who's 'us'? Are you going to tell me what's going on? I don't have time for this."
"Us is me, Jayna, Aquarius and Michael. Um, you don't know him. As for what's going on, we're really not sure. Jayna and Aqua found a tent with a bunch of kids in it. They appeared to be drugged." She paused, waiting for a reaction. After a few long seconds of silence she spoke again. "Torres?"
"I'm here." She sighed. "You know how to ruin a perfectly good evening, don't you? I'll change clothes and meet you out there in about half an hour. Where will you be?"
"Somewhere near the face-painting booth I think. We're pretty sure that's how the drugs are being delivered."
"All right. Be careful." Torres hung up the phone.
Ciela turned to Michael and the others. "She'll meet up with us in about half an hour - out of uniform."
"That's great. While you two check out the face-painting booth, we'll be nosing around. Just remember to try to act naturally."
"No problem." Mike called after the pair now winding their way through the again-heavy crowd. "No problem at all." He wrapped one arm around her waist casually as she put the phone back into her pocket.
Chapter 6
By NopeKahr. Ne. Vahl.
"Green Eggs and Ham" is (c) 1960,1988 Dr. Seuss Enterprises.
The gates were wide open, spanned by an arch of red and yellow stripes. Balloons clustered around it, obscuring the words. A ripped ragged poster proclaimed "Clowns! Elephants! Rides!" and more from the hastily erected fence. Music, laughter, screams, shouts, poured out of the opening, washing past her, sweet and sour and sickly and all the other smells of close crowds. Unconsciously checking her gun, resting in the small of her back, Detective Angelina Torres entered the carnival.Lights flashed, on and off, red, and yellow and blue and green. Jayna squinted against the glare. "Did you know Carnival literally means 'the cessation of flesh-eating'?" ~~~~~
"Nice." Zan grinned. "And you changed the subject. Again."
"I did?"
"We were talking about Woodstock?"
"Oh ...you shouldn't ask a woman her age."
Zan grinned. They walked in silence for a while, weaving their way through stalls and canvas, crowds and colours, till the lights began to come less often, less bright. Old straw lay on the trampled grass. They turned between one tent and the next and found themselves outside. A row of wooden cages pointed into the deeper darkness.
Jayna tapped her fingers against the bars. The tiger paced in its cage, silent circles, paws scratching in the straw.
"Big pussy," said Zan.
"How did I know you were going to say that?"
"Great minds think alike."
Jayna laughed, slipping an arm around Zan's. They made their way down the row of cages, gazing at the dark and curious wonders within. Beyond the cages, the ground widened. The grass was wet beneath their feet, lined with the tracks of wheels. Thin points of light pricked the darkness. Curves of dark wood and glass perched hazily in the shadows.
Aquarius waved a hand in a gesture that encompassed every trailer. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"Um... That one. " Jayna pointed, then again, more decisively, "No, that one."
They'd found seats with a workable view of the face paint stall, not quite out of sight but far enough to avoid a casual gaze. Still, they'd seen nothing untoward, the few kids in line appeared to be getting perfectly harmless tiger stripes and whiskers, and their conversation, strained to begin with by the effort of sounding 'normal', had faded out. Now Michael watched the stall while Ciela watched the crowds. ~~~~~
The crowds surged and faded around them in waves broken by the occasional tumbler or stilt walker. Jugglers came past, throwing balls and clubs and flaming knives from hand to hand. A young lady in tights hurried past and turned into one of the larger tents, a small monkey jabbering on her shoulder. Faces came and went, moving through a confusion of light and shadow that rendered them flat, stark, slow, unreal.
Is it you? Ciela thought. Or you? The music seemed cheap now, discordant somehow, stripped of wonder. Which one? Which ones? Is it all of you?
Mike touched her shoulder. "We should --You're shivering."
"Don't you find it, I mean --" Ciela lowered her voice "...a little bit creepy? Knowing that these, some of these people are kidnappers and they're just walking around, out here in plain sight? All these people having fun, oblivious. Shadows at every corner. Maybe it's the juggler, or the guy in monkey suit, or that fat lady on the hoopla stall or--"
"Hey!" He turned her towards him, leaning in. "Maybe's'll drive you mad, Ciel. Let's just keep our eyes on the painter and worry about everyone else later. We'll find whoever's doing this, okay? It's gonna be fine."
Here he comes. ~~~~~
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You can hear his cane. He carries it with him, always. Its foot is made of rowan, cut fresh. Its tip is of burnished gold, shaped and buffed by his hand and many years."I would not, could not, on a boat."
His boots are tall and leather, black with pointed toes and heels that click when he walks, though they do not quite touch the ground. He casts no shadow, though one follows him when it wants or will.
"I will not, will not, with a goat."
The jacket is black velvet on the outside, red silk on the inside, with a lining that glints both like and unlike silver. His waistcoat is dark but rich, the shirt beneath bright but plain. He may or may not be wearing white cotton gloves on his long fingered, perfectly manicured hands.
"I will not eat them in the rain."
His lips are black and his eyes are hidden. His face is white in the way bone isn't, and beautiful like marble statues are, or old porcelain dolls: unblemished, perfect, cold. His hair so blue it's black curls at his forehead and his neck.
"I will not eat them on a train."
There is a single tear on his cheek, a crow on his shoulder, a cloak at his back, a hat on his head. He is speaking. It sounds like water on stones.
"I do not like green eggs and ham!"
The children listen.
"I do not like them, Sam-I-Am."
The brush moved against skin, now slow, now fast, now soft, now hard. Ciela laid her head, on her arms, on the table, brushed an errant lock of hair behind one ear. The brush flicked. The wood was rough, cool against her skin. The brush dabbed. Ciela watched, eyes half closed, drowsy, Michael a warm presence beside her, side by side, thigh to thigh. The face painter turned away, swirled the brush in a jar, cloudy water, tinkling glass. The cat headed boy looked right at her, laughing, balloon string clasped in one sweaty paw. He bounded off, trailing parents behind him. ~~~~~
Someone was watching her.
Water hit the table, a single drop, fat, hot, wet; then another. A third hit the mud, turning a small blotch of the dust dark. More followed, but slow, languorous, spit-spotting the ground, hissing down canvas, plip and plop, plip and gone. A silver haired man ran by, arm in arm with a green eyed girl, the rain vanishing around them in sapphire flares. More rain fell, colours twisting and fading along the droplets path, grey, blue.
"We'll have to move," said Michael at her side. His eyes were on the painter. "The rain'll drive the crowds away."
"On J Street? You're kidding, right?"
Mike glanced at Az, then beyond, to the woman who had spoken. Torres slipped into the opposite seat.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
"Want to go for third time lucky?" asked Zan. ~~~~~
Jayna pursed her lips, flicking her glare from one caravan to the next.
"Not that this isn't fun." He turned his face up into the rain. "Still. That-- Carny folk, eh? I once--" Zan blinked, looked around. "Jayna?" He hurried after her; she was already at the door of a small, out of the way caravan. There were flowers around the door, or at least, things that looked like flowers.
"Keep up, would you?" Metal rattled against metal in Jayna's hands.
"Remind me again why you brought lock picks to a double date?"
" 'Be prepared'. Weren't you ever a scout?"
Zan grinned. "Think I'd look good in a uniform?"
Jayna looked up from the door, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think I would?"
"Uh, you--" He frowned. "This is about that Sherri thing. Right?"
There was a click, and the trailer door swung in.
Torres drummed her fingers against the table in time to the rain. ~~~~~
"You were right to call me," she said, after a while, then was silent again.
They watched the painter clean the last of the brushes.
"Kids," muttered Torres. "I thought nothing could surprise me anymore on this street but -- Jesus."
Brushes and paints carefully packed away, the painter turned the small placard to 'Closed'.
Michael got to his feet. "We should follow--"
"All three of us?" interrupted Torres. "We'll be spotted in a second. I'll follow--"
"No point," said Az. "Look."
They watched the painter step out of the back of the stall, cross over, and vanish into the next tent along.
"Fine." Torres pulled her gun out, checking the clip.
"We're right behind you," said Ciela.
The crowds had moved into the more covered-over parts of the carnival and, save for a couple of duck-monkeys, they were unobserved approaching the tent. Torres paused in the doorway, pushing the canvas aside and peering in.
"Anything?" whispered Michael.
"Can't see," Torres hissed back.
"Are we going in?" asked Ciela.
"Not much choice. Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
They stepped into the darkness.
Their feet fell silent, rustling, in the thick carpet. The rain drummed lightly on the dark wood above them. Rich dark burgundy velvet curtains blocked the small window, fell in curves around the bed. The trailer was small, but its owner had made full use of the space. Every nook, every cranny was filled. Drawers here. Shelves there. A little table. Hooks and racks over the small stove. ~~~~~
Jayna whistled in appreciation. "Nice."
"Needs a little work. TV, Fridge-- OW!"
"Watch out for the table."
"Cheers." Zan rubbed his shins. "Lights would be nice, come to think of it."
"There's one just behind you," said Jayna. She ran her finger along a row of books packed tightly on a shelf a good foot shorter than needed.
It was more a lamp than a light, a small wick surrounded by a glass globe. Zan fumbled in the darkness, almost spilling the box before he found it, flicking the match alight. The wick caught unexpectedly, flames leaping up. For a second, a female form danced inside the glass.
"Jayna!" Zan hissed urgently, as the figure blew him a kiss.
"What?"
"Look--"
"Yeah. It's an oil lamp. Freaky. There was a time before electricity, you--"
There were flames in the glass, just flames, flickering orange tongues. "But-- I-- Didn't you see--"
"Didn't I see what?" sighed Jayna.
"...Never mind." Zan rubbed at his eyes. "Trick of the light."
"Sure." Jayna turned back, glancing along the shelves, pulling out drawers to rummage inside.
Zan followed suit, occasionally glancing back at the lamp. The light shimmered and moved around them, casting odd shadows scurrying into the corners. "What are we looking for?"
"I don't know."
"Ah." He rifled through a pile of pamphlets on a little corner table, tucked under a statue of duck headed woman. "Circus advertising -- Hey, this one's dated 1899!"
"Some of these coins are even older." Jayna tossed him one, dropping the leather sack back into the fruit bowl. It was unexpectedly warm against his skin with some kind of animal head raised on its faces. The worn date read '1698'.
"Odd." She brushed her hands against the horse brasses hanging in front of the largest of the cupboards. "I don't think these are metal. Where are these people from?"
"Circus is a good place to hide if you don't want to stand out."
"Maybe." Jayna tugged on the doors. "But -- on J Street? You could--" She tugged harder. "You could find a hundred places where you wouldn't--" Harder. "Wouldn't stand--"
The doors burst open in her hands, raining paints and brushes down on them.
Her gun was in her hand. She knew that much. She could feel the grip against her fingers. She'd only taken a step. The gap in the tent was miles away. ~~~~~
"Ciela?"
"For the benefit of Mister Kite..."
"I'm here." The voice came from somewhere on Torres left. "Mike?"
"...there will be a show tonight..."
"Here." On the right.
"...on trampoline."
"Hang on." Torres fumbled for her pocket. "I have my--"
There was a sound, a heavy clunk, echo thundering in the darkness. Light stabbed down, picking out the detective. A second, then a third lit her companions and Torres was surprised to find them both less than an arms length away. They'd sounded further, much further. She tightened her hand on the gun.
Michael spun, hand up to shield his eyes. "Can you see where the--"
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!"
Ciela slapped her hands to her ears but the noise was so loud she could hear it in her bones.
"PRESENTING, FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT!"
"Where's it coming from?"
"THRILL TO THE ONE, THE ONLY--"
"It's everywhere!"
"THE GREATEST OF THE GREATS--"
"Something's--"
"THE KING OF THE CARNIVAL HIMSELF--"
The thud came again. Another spotlight illuminated a sharp circle in front of them.
"--TRAMONTANE!"
Sudden, ringing, echoing, silence.
A long thin limb curved into the circle of light. A second followed, dragging the thin body above it. The white moon face tilted down into the circle.
"Hello, children," he said, and smiled. Light glinted off too many sharp points.
Green light filled the trailer. ~~~~~
"Fug me," breathed Zan. "Fug. Me."
A many legged something rushed from one empty socket to another.
"That can't be--"
Green flames guttered dripping wax onto bone.
"Jayna!"
She swayed, hands gripping the doors, frozen, knuckles white.
"Jayna, come on! We have to-- We--"
He shook her and she stumbled and he pulled her hands free, slamming the door against the hideous light.
"Who are you?" asked Torres. ~~~~~
"Who am I?" He grinned, looking at them with his head tilted, bird like. "Dear lady, I am the Ringmaster of the Circus, the Baron of the Carnival." He giggled, stalking forward in a curious motion, like over-exaggerated sneaking. "I am Samedi and Pagliacci rolled into one." From the darkness came the sound of mighty wings beating. "I am something to all and all to some, fear and fun, wrapped up in one. I am," he salaamed, hands coiling through the air like smoke, "the Clown, Tramontane"
Torres tried to take a step forward and bumped into something she couldn't see. Ciela moved; she too came to an abrupt halt.
"What do you want?"
"What do any of us want?"
"Michael--" hissed Az. "Can you move--?"
Michael shook his head, not taking his eyes off the clown. "You're kidnapping kids."
"Am I?" He appeared to consider, stroking an imaginary beard.
"JSPD!" announced Torres. "You're under arrest."
He waved a long finger at her, contradicting: "I'm under a tent."
She squeezed off a shot. It vanished into the darkness. Twin points of light appeared. A crow hopped out into the light. Another followed. Another.
"Why?" asked Az. "Why are you stealing the children?"
Another crow.
"Why?" He mused, hopping a few steps towards them. "Perhaps I wish them for labour. Perhaps I wish them for lovers. Perhaps I wish them to barter or sell. Perhaps I have need of spare parts. Perhaps I am fattening them for food. Perhaps I wish them for Disciples. Perhaps I have no motive!" He spun, declaiming " 'Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold, mere anarchy is loose upon the world'! This is the Carnival! There is no order here, no pattern, no command!"
Another.
There was a flash of lightning, momentarily illuminating the tent, which seemed suddenly smaller as if the light had pulled it in around them. As it faded, Michael lunged from the spotlight at Ciela, crashing into her. The darkness came rushing back.
"Sorry," whispered Michael, pulling Az to her feet, "but I had to get you out of the circle before--"
"Very clever, hedge-mage." The clown's voice came from all around them, rasping.
Edgy, Torres asked, "Can you get me out?"
"None of you are out. None of you are ever getting out. Do you really think you can fight me?"
"Where--?"
They saw him, suddenly, fading out of the shadows.
"You can't win, you know. You're already dead."
The clown flung his arms up into the sky as the lightning fell and the crows rose around them, every shade of iridescent black, bone white hands and black velvet cloak and a cane of rowan and storm shimmering gold and a laugh, all of its own, crashing down upon them as the orchestra swelled...