Chapter 7
"Dammit, Jay move it!" Aqua pushed against her. She seemed rooted to the spot. He didn't care how much incriminating evidence this trailer held he wasn't staying here one second longer than necessary. "We should get out of here before it notices us.""Too late for that, I'm afraid." Jayna was suddenly 'back' from where ever she had been and, once again, all business. "I think it would be best if we made ourselves unobtrusive for a while." She spun around and sped toward the door. "I'm sure whoever lives here knows someone has violated their 'space', whether or not that will send out a general alarm..."
"So we agree that it's time to leave?" he asked, hurrying to keep up. They began weaving through the jumble of trailers, making their way back toward the carnival proper. Jayna came to an abrupt halt at the corner of one particularly decrepit fifth wheel, causing Zan to slam into her back. She didn't budge and the effect was akin to running into a wall.
"Shush! I can hear several of them up ahead, talking." She turned her head in his direction and whispered. "If I had known we were going to be playing hide and seek I wouldn't have worn this 'notice me' sign." She swept her hand downwards, indicating her clothes.
"You look just fine. Who would suspect you dressed like that?" He laughed, softly. "What are they saying?"
"Nothing about us, thankfully. Mostly just gloating over all the money they are raking in." Jayna stiffened and clutched Zan by the wrist, taking his hand from her backside. "I think we better move, fast." She led him away on a tangent from their previous direction.
"What now?"
"Word is out that somebody has been snooping around the trailers. Those guys are going to fan out and start hunting. I'm buying us some time and looking for a less well lit area to cross back into the midway." She led them on a mad dash through the trailers finally coming out behind a singularly odious set of portable toilets. "This looks as good a spot as any."
"What a wonderful smell you've discovered!" he grimaced.
"Beggars can't be choosers, love." She crept around the front of the port-a-john, making sure to slam the door and smooth her clothes. "That was horrid!" she exclaimed a bit louder than necessary in Zan's direction.
"That's what you get for drinking all that lemonade!" He laughed joining in with the charade. "I've got a few tickets left that we might as well use." He pulled the rumpled length from his pocket. "Anything look good to you?"
"How about that?" She pointed across the way at an obviously converted, oversized semi trailer that was garishly painted and proclaimed itself to be 'Vex's House of Mirrors'. "We haven't gone in there yet!" The excitement in her voice didn't quite seem to make it to her eyes, and Zan noticed that she had lost a bit of her newfound youth.
"Lead on, fair lady." He realized that this particular attraction seemed a bit off of the beaten path and there weren't many other carnival goers in the area, but when he looked back, Jayna was up the stairs and standing beside the ticket-taker before he could say anything to her about it. The guy at the gate didn't look any more odd than any of the other carnies. His hair wasn't any greasier, his tattoos weren't any more numerous or grosser (if either were possible), but there was something about him that just didn't sit right.
"Oh, how cute!" Jayna exclaimed, reaching toward the fellow's shoulder, only to pull it back from a small gout of orange flame.
"Careful, ma'am. He don't take kindly to strangers." Zan took the stairs two at a time.
"You ok, Sugar?" Zan asked stepping behind her, keeping his eyes on the carnie. The small reptile on the man's shoulders crawled forward on its bat-wings and craned its head at them. Zan put one hand on the middle of her back.
"Aww she's jest fine. He cain't do much more'n light a smoke." The little dragon snorted and a tiny puff of smoke spiraled upwards from his nostrils. Jay looked across at Zan and he saw that she had regained her youthful appearance. He handed over the required tickets and they headed inside, Jayna leading the way. Before he could get through the door the carnie spoke again smiling, showing his ruined teeth, "Likes 'em young, eh?"
"Maybe, why?" Zan glanced at Jay inside and looked back at the man who petted the lizard on his shoulder.
"Maybe you'll find more o' what you really want."
"A lot of tickets for that attraction?" Zan raised his eyebrows and smiled easily. He was playing out rope, and waiting to see how intricate a noose would be tied.
"Oh yea. Better foller the one ya gots, Mister. Fer ya start look'n fer more."
"One in the hand, eh?" Zan said easing himself inside. He walked briskly toward Jay then stopped, and looked down, grinding his foot on the smooth well-worn boards of the trailer floor. He looked back up at Jay, and became very alert. He closed the distance between them, ignoring the mirrors surrounding them. "Stay close to me."
"What?" Jay asked looking at him over her glasses. "Isn't this cool?" She turned a lazy circle in front of the mirrors, becoming a ballet troupe. "Guys are visual aren't they? I read that... someplace." She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. "Watch me." She began to dance slowly to music unheard, then led him deeper into the hall.
Zan followed her lead and she tossed her lacy blouse at him, her tie-dyed shirt clung to her body in all the right places. He brushed the blouse aside and let it fall to the floor. She danced along and found another girl looking in the mirrors. She was a little shorter than Jay, and far too young. Jay danced up to her and the girl glanced back at Zan then laughed a silly giddy laugh. She danced with Jay, reaching her arms into the air, her eyes accentuated by the wild colors painted on her face. Jay looked back at him. "Are you watching?"
"I'm watching." Zan kept his eyes moving constantly, but keeping his head movements to a minimum. Jay danced closer to the girl. Soon they were slow dancing, with Jay's hands where they shouldn't be. Jay looked at him over her shoulder, smiled, and then began kissing the girl, gently at first, then more aggressively.
"Beautiful, ain't it?" The soft southern drawl asked. Zan bristled as the carnie stepped up from behind him. Jay let the girl go and turned her to face them, then pushed the girl up to the two men. The young girl blushed and tried to stay modest as Jay pulled the girl's shirt off over her head. "She young 'nuff fer ya?"
Zan turned smiling at the man, and decked him. He staggered back through a mirror that didn't break, but only flowed liquidly around him. Zan followed the tattooed man, delivering a quick succession of punches and kicks culminating in a sharp roundhouse to the head. He went down hard, and wouldn't get up again for some time. Zan's next thought was to get himself and Jayna out of there as quickly as possible, before any of the others found them. He turned to retrace his steps and caught a blur of bronze out of the corner of one eye. He ducked in time to avoid the stream of fire the little, now flying, dragonette shot at him. It wasn't as severe as a shot from a flame-thrower, but hardly a cigarette lighter. The tiny reptile flew over him and banked for another attack, waiting until the last possible moment to open its mouth and send forth its flame. A high-pressure jet of water sent the little creature arcing off into the distance, putting out its flame and rendering it unconscious.
Zan didn't bother to check on either of his fallen opponents. He spun on his heel and went directly to the young girl, now standing alone, who seemed oblivious to anything that had happened. He scooped up her fallen shirt, dampened one end, and began to wipe the garish paint off of her face. After a few moments the girl seemed to awaken from her trance-like state and realized that she was bare from the waist up. She snatched the shirt from Zan and clutched it to her chest. She looked like she might start to cry. He looked her squarely in the eye. "Go home." He said as forcefully as he could. "Just go home."
He walked through the maze of now insubstantial mirrors until he found her standing in front of a wildly bent one that made her look grotesque. "So there you are." She smiled at him. "I wondered what happened to you."
"Jay, none of this is real."
"Of course not, silly. It's just mirror tricks."
"Not even that." He said, sticking his hand through the mirror in front of her. "We need to get moving before someone else finds us here. Where are your glasses?"
"I took them off so I could enjoy this. How did you do that?"
"It's just an illusion. None of this is real." She pulled her glasses out of her purse, set them on her nose, and true to his words the house of mirrors began to fade all around them. They were standing in a small open area near the edge of the trailer encampment. The carnie lay sprawled a little more than ten feet away on the gravel.
"How did you know?" she asked heading toward the lights and sounds of the carnival proper.
"It wasn't that hard. Nothing felt right from when you found the outhouses, but I was certain once we got inside. The floor looked all nice and shiny, but it felt like gravel." He hurried to keep up with Jayna. "We better go check on Az and Mike."
"I hope they haven't gotten themselves into anything worse than that..."
Chapter 8
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...As suddenly as it had started, the orchestra stopped playing. The sound that replaced it was every bit as loud and even more horrifying, as all around them in the darkness the crows took flight, dark shapes moving in rapid circles, wings beating the air. Torres, rooted to the spot inside the circle of light, still had her gun drawn, an ineffective gesture against the murder that swarmed around them.
Outside the beam of light, Ciela and Michael stood back to back as the creatures passed by within inches. Her helmet had changed from the innocuous-looking necklace she had worn into the tent into its true form, and it seemed to be trying to cover more of her than usual. "Mike," She whispered, "If I flash bright enough, do you think you can get Torres out of that spotlight the same way you did me?"
He nodded and answered her with a quiet "I think so." He motioned for the detective to shield her eyes, which she did without hesitation. Az's blast of light illuminated the tent and Mike grabbed Torres by the arm and yanked her quickly out of the circle. The brief flash lasted just long enough for them all to note with some trepidation that the dozen or so birds they had seen minutes earlier now numbered in the hundreds. Wave after wave of iridescent black feathers, beaks and eyes flashed by and obscured all but the tiniest fraction of the outer tent wall. Other birds stood, sat, and hopped over the straw-covered floor, and they still seemed to be multiplying.
Behind them in the center of the tent, in his own private spotlight, the clown watched with amusement, sharp teeth glinting like razors in the glare. "The air is peopled with cruel and fearsome birds."
As if on cue, the spotlight Torres had been trapped in winked out of existence, leaving the clown's spotlight as the only break in the darkness. "Now what?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Make a break for it before these birds decide we're Tippi Hedren?"
"That's a very good idea." Michael replied under his breath. "But I don't think it's going to work." They moved as one, and each took a hesitant step towards the exit, which again seemed miles away. Somewhere in the darkness around them, a single crow called out, and then almost instantly another called out in response. Before any of the trio could take another step, the entire tent erupted into a chorus of cawing, screeching crows that quickly became deafening. Torres moved away slightly from the other two, and a single bird broke away from the swirling mass and dove at her, claws and beak tearing into her jacket. Then all hell seemingly broke loose. Dozens of the birds took this as a cue, dropping and diving towards them at full speed. The suicidal creatures criss-crossed the tent, slicing through the air around them. "Told you it was too easy."
"Ok, next plan." Torres said as another bird passed by, dangerously close to her face.
"I'm open to suggestions." Ciela muttered. "I think I'm safe from them, but I can't really do anything for the you two, except start blasting. And I don't think I can kill enough of them to keep you from getting torn to shreds if they decide to attack."
"It's not a question of if so much as of when."
"That's not a comforting thought."
"It's not meant to be. He's playing with us."
"I think that's pretty obvious, Mike."
"We could attack the Clown, instead?" Torres asked.
"We don't know what he's capable of." Michael answered. "You saw how effective your gun was, Detective." Another bird dive-bombed them, this one pulling away at the last second. Its dark eyes gleamed ominously with reflected light.
"I don't think they're going to keep playing very much longer."
"No kidding."
"We're have to try again."
"Well, we certainly can't stay here all day."
"Right." Michael nodded towards Az. "The darkness seems to be part of the problem here, the darker it is, the further away the entrance really is. Some sort of spell altering reality, I'm not certain how, and it would take time we don't have for me to figure out how to counter it. If we try to escape while it's dark like this..."
"Gotcha. I'll try not to blind you."
"Don't worry about it. Just stick close, the closer the better. You lead us out, I'll keep us from being shredded." The air around all three of them wavered, shimmered, and then became still. Ciela began to glow slightly, increasing in brightness until they could see the walls of the tent and the multitude of crows. Or at least, they could have seen the walls of the tent had there been any. "Holy shit." Torres breathed. The darkness around them stretched for what seemed to be miles, giving way to a nighttime sky with no horizon. There was no ground save for the somewhat circular section they stood on, that was formerly the inside of the tent.
"I told you that you couldn't escape..." The Clown grinned at them. "Usually I have to sacrifice a few of the children to my pets, but you three should be enough to satiate their appetite." He bowed, a grandly exaggerated movement that stirred up a few of the birds that were nearby on the remaining ground. "I bid you Adieu." Tramontane moved slowly, confidently, across what had once been the interior of the tent, the spotlight impossibly following him.
"Az..."
All four heard the calm, quiet voice at the same time, which should have been impossible given the riotous screeching of the crows. The clown frowned and turned back towards the other three. "A would-be rescuer?" He quickly regained his eerie smile. "The more the merrier, as they say." At the edge of the darkness, a triangle of light appeared, spindly hands pushing back the flap of the nonexistent tent until a rail-thin figure stood silhouetted, cruciform, in the opening. In the spilled-over light from the outside, they could see a strand of ground not covered by the feathered creatures. "David! For Quetz's sake, STAY THERE!" Ciela shouted.
"Are you all right?" He asked, moving past the flap. Beyond him they could see the carnival lights, and a small child running past. "I felt something was wrong. You needed me." The strand of ground became wider, a clear path through the sea of birds. One of the crows dove towards him, and abruptly veered off into the starry sky that stretched above them. Behind David, the world seemed normal.
"I'm ok so far. Just stay where you are." She repeated, a slight edge creeping into her voice. More crows broke away from the circling mass, perhaps a dozen, and aimed for the figure on the edge of their reality. Again they veered off into the night, vanishing from sight in seconds.
Michael stared at David for a second, then back to the clown, who looked as if he was about to launch himself at them, or, more specifically, at David. The clown raised his hands, a sudden wind coming from nowhere, blasting straw into the air and raising all the birds that had settled on the ground. The mass of crows, which had quieted down some, now took flight again, all shooting towards David at the clown's direction.
"Run!" Michael nodded towards the exit.
"Towards the birds? Are you nuts?" Torres glared at Michael but felt herself being pulled towards David and the birds that were still rushing towards him.
"They're going to split off. Just move, we may not have another chance here."
Ahead of them, the onrushing birds seemed disoriented, and the leading edge of the attack careened away from David, still holding the tent flap open with one hand, looking even more confused than usual. The crows spiraled upward for what seemed like miles before crashing down, heading straight for the clown. Tramontane stood stock-still in the spotlight as the creatures rushed towards him. He was quickly lost in a blizzard of black feathers and flashing beaks. The four watched from relative safety outside as the inside of the tent reverted to its previous state, a straw-covered floor littered with the occasional black feather. The thick canvas, that had seemed impassable earlier as the crows swarmed around it, began to develop holes, which in turn became massive tears. The whole structure was coming apart at the seams, the wooden support rotting to dust in the center of the tent. The heaving birds began to break apart, slowly at first, then the whole mass exploding off in different directions as the tent dissolved around them. There was nothing in the space they had vacated.
"What the hell?" Torres said, more than a touch of anger in her voice.
"We've been suckered!" Michael fumed. "While we were watching this whole thing come apart," Michael gestured at the now-collapsed tent. "The Clown was escaping, probably going after the children."
"We don't know where they were being held, though..."
"No you don't, but we do."
Chapter 9
Ciela had never been so glad to see Aquarius' face, or to hear his voice. He raised one eyebrow when he noticed David standing there, but figured that there wasn't time to ask a lot of stupid questions. "Shall we be going, or do we have time to waste?""Lead on, since you know the way." Torres reached into an interior coat pocket, pulling her JSPD issue cell phone. "I'm calling for backup." Under the circumstances no one cared to argue that point with her. The six sped off at a run following Zan and Jayna's lead as the need for stealth was no longer an issue. Zan looked back over his shoulder.
"You had a bit of a run-in with the locals, I take it?" he asked no one in particular.
"You could say that." Az answered, grimly.
"So did we." He and Jayna both slowed to a walk at approximately the same moment. "There it is." He pointed at a relatively nondescript tent, or at least it would have been if four burly carnies hadn't chosen that moment to storm inside leaving a fifth outside to stand guard. "We can compare notes later."
Jayna pivoted on one heel, hands on her hips, looking squarely at Michael. "Mike, can you nullify an area the size of that tent?"
"You don't ask for much on short notice, do you?" Jay flashed him a plastic smile. "Right... Cold, with no prep... I can try." Jayna stiffened. In her mind, this was no time for half-measures, no time for Michael to hide from his abilities.
"Do or do not. There is no try." The words leapt from her, unbidden. She had no idea where that phrase had come from, but it seemed fitting.
"Bitch." She was beginning to remind him of a very old, very stern shaman he hadn't especially liked back on the Rez. If he was expecting a stung reaction from her he was disappointed. She only continued to stare, icily, at him.
"You say that like it's a bad thing..."Smiling at him, she turned back to observing the tent. "There's no sign of overt magic use. I'll assume that's a good sign, but I think haste would be wise." Michael reached inside the neck of his shirt, withdrawing a worn leather pouch that hung from a length of rawhide around his neck.
"Spell components?" Zan snickered.
"Fug off..."
********** Tramontane marched through the tent like Sherman through Atlanta. His light and delicate step was gone. "He roller coaster, He got early warning, He got muddy water, He want Mojo filter, He say one and one and one is three. Got to be good looking, 'cause he's so hard to see."
"Boss?" A lean and muscular woman came up beside him and tried to keep pace. She wore a tank top, jeans so soaked with motor oil that they looked like leather, and marine recruit haircut. Her linesmen boots were the only sound as they walked. "Boss, what's going on? What's with the rush?"
He spun on her. "Please allow me to introduce myself.."
"OK You're pissed, I got that." She cut him off. "You don't start quoting the Stones unless you are. But you have to talk to me fancy man." She knew that would get a rise out of him.
"You're on thin ice, Helga. We have to move the merchandise ahead of schedule, we've gone and attracted attention."
"Wonderful. Who?" She asked as he took off his coat and handed it to her.
"I'm not certain, but I also don't want to hang around long enough to find out." He forced his sleeves up and struck a pose. Helga could feel him gathering the forces around him, bending them to his will. Her heart fluttered and she realized that now was not a good time, so she contented herself with a pat on his ass and went to organize the others. The hired help was better than it had been in ages, and accidents do happen. Now was not the time or place to start assigning blame. Why, and how, were questions that would have to wait for later.
She looked at the likely candidates, "Het, you've got the door. No one in." She looked up into the protruding bearded chin of Het. His eyes, if he had any, were lost beneath his over hanging thick eyebrow. Twice a man wide at the shoulder, Het's long tree-trunk, tattooed arms forced his knuckles to drag on the floor of the tent. Some of the carnies joked that his ratty, well-worn 'load' T-shirt referred to his spare-tire. Of course no one said that to his face. "Understand?"
"Strangers bad." He grunted.
"That's right Het. Strangers B-A-D." She smiled and nodded. "Carnies G-O-O-D."
"Carnies good. Strangers bad." Het turned and stalked toward the entrance as four burley carnies rushed in. "Carnies good." He lumbered past them and opened the flap.
********** "Hey, they're changing the guard. He's a big ox." Zan commented thumbing at the tent. "Something's up if they're changing the guard."
"Mike how soon?" Jay pressed.
Sweat formed on his brow, Az couldn't help but stare. "Soon, it's been a while since I've done something this big."
"Leave him here, our window is closing. Mike, do what you can." Zan said as he yanked off his boots.
"I am NOT doing THAT again!" Az asserted, stabbing a finger at the boots.
"What? Oh fer... I'm not ruining these boots." Zan threw his socks into the boots. "I'll circle around back." He said and headed off.
"I was thinking the same thing." Torres leaned into Az and headed off too.
"I'll take big and ugly." Jay said stuffing her glasses into her purse. "See you inside."
"You gonna be ok here?" Az asked Michael.
"I'm a big boy." He smiled.
"I know." She leaned in and brushed her tongue over his lips. "See you inside."
********** "Carnies good." Het mumbled to himself, it was important to keep reminding himself of his orders. Het looked up, if he had eyes to look, as a statuesque strawberry blonde walked up to him. She looked like she walked out of a Lenny Kravitz video. "Strangers bad." He flexed his shoulders widening his mass by another half-person, and looked down on her. "Carnies good. Strangers bad." He bellowed.
Jayna looked up and the monstrosity before her and smiled wryly. "Hi, I'm Jayna."
The tower that was Het said nothing.
She placed a hand on her chest. "Jay-na."
"Jay-na." Het said back at her.
Jay nodded at him and started past. Het moved to block her. "Strangers bad!"
"Who am I?" She asked.
"Jay-na."
"Well if you know my name I must not be a stranger." Jay smiled and walked past him into the tent.
People standing near the front of the tent could almost hear the old and unused gears in Het's excuse for a mind groan with effort. Then just as Jay reached the flap of the tent, "NO!" His massive hand swung out at her. Jay crouched down, avoiding the blow, and delivered a swift kick to his right shin. Any normal man would have had to spend the next few months in a cast. Het only bellowed and swung at her again. "Jayna bad!" He didn't pay any attention to the blonde woman and her companion as they rushed past.
"You sure you've got this?" Az asked.
"No problem." Jay gave her a 'thumbs-up' and rolled away from the next swipe.
Az and David entered the tent shoulder to shoulder. "Almost like old times." She shot him a smile. David turned slowly and looked at her blankly. "Never mind." Az mumbled as she looked out at the tent. Various carnies were now trying to get the children on their feet and lined up. The wicked clown Tramontane was conjuring. "David, it's time to shut down this psycho circus."
"HEY RUBE! HEY RUBE!" One of the carnies had noticed them and hefted a four-foot tent spike. Holding it like a lance he charged on them, screaming like a banshee.
"David, take care of these jerks. I'm on the leader." Az broke into a sprint. The other carnies raced away from their charges and grabbed whatever weapon they could improvise. David stood his ground, turning to face his attacker who ran him through with the spike. David didn't flinch, the two looked down at the wound and then at each other. David allowed a dumbfounded look to cross his attacker's face before belting him. As the longhaired attacker fell David pulled the spike from his midsection, and spun it about getting used to its weight.
Helga looked up at the outcry and saw the interference Tramontane had feared. She looked to her master/lover and saw that he was still trying to open their exit. She grabbed a long handled mallet and advanced on the little blonde bitch. She watched as Tracy ran up to her with an old wooden folding chair. Tracy, wearing his 'Cure' T-shirt, wasn't much taller than the intruder in the green halter-top and black denim. His rat-like features snarled as he wound up to break the chair across her back. The green and black troublemaker either didn't see him or care as she ran past. Tracy swung the chair and shattered it against the golden armor that appeared on her back. Az didn't even break stride. Helga began a spinning run, swinging the hammer around her, building momentum. It seemed to Helga that since the blonde was intent on letting her flunkie get outnumbered, she must be the 'big gun'.