Bacchanal

by Veronica Henry

  The time for crutches and novice tricks was behind her. She swallowed hesitation, rubbed her palms together to stop her hands from shaking. A thought coalesced. The introduction, the first time she’d communed with the three spirits. How she’d made the arduous spiritual journey across the ocean to lay herself bare, humbled before them. The trials she’d endured and survived.

  And like a strong wind from a limitless sky, they came to her all at once. The terrain changed: the cook tent gone, Bacchanal a thing of another place. The sun sat low on the horizon, illuminating vague outlines of creatures large and small, roaming and grazing. A soft breeze carrying the scent of home caressed her skin.

  Raven squawked and landed on a tree branch overhead. A rustling of brush, tall grass parted, and Badger emerged. The ground shook as Elephant ambled forward, trunk held high.

  Like roots growing in reverse, a current of warmth surged up from underfoot, through the soles of her boots, and then filled her stomach with such force that she thought she might burst open. But the warmth exploded outward to the top of her head and the tips of her fingers. Her heart beat in time with a rhythmic thump of a faraway drum. She imagined that the sweetness of her next inhalation was like that of a newborn taking a first breath.

  An image coalesced, formed of their united thought. They were at the carnival, assembled in front of the red trailer, shrouded in mist and shadow. This was where the threat was concealed. This was where together, they would defeat the enemy. But how could she find it?

  Badger responded first, an image of herself clawing that trailer to pieces. Elephant interjected, her trunk holding Badger back. “Wait,” she was telling her, earning an impatient hiss from the other spirit. Raven, the trickster, showed them the chest from her trial on the mountain, only the lid was open. The message: something other than what they saw awaited them inside.

  Liza replied with a thought of her own. Eloko. The dwarf was complicit. Yes, the spirits agreed, deal with him first and lure the enemy out of hiding at the same time.

  “Liza!” Clay’s voice yanked her back. “We gotta jump! The tents and rides are down. Shake a leg.”

  It was time to go. The fight would wait another day. But her confidence was building. She’d called to the spirits, and the spirits had answered.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  ELOKO EARNS HIS KEEP

  Tulsa. The famed last stop on Bacchanal’s serpentine trail. The big score. Liza wished she could drum up the excitement she’d felt on the first night she’d started her animal show, but now at the start of each day, darkness seemed to hold back more of the dawn. The more she hunted for the red trailer, the more it eluded her.

  Oklahoma had taken the brunt of the economic and environmental hardships, and still Tulsa remained a stable, growing city. Carnival posters had been plastered all over town, and from what some of the carnies said, the locals were ripe to be taken. But she had other plans.

  “I guess I picked up a bug on the road.” Liza coughed and dabbed a handkerchief at her nose. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel my show.”

  Clay squinted, planted his fists on his hips, and cocked his head at her as if she’d spoken in a foreign tongue. “You pick the biggest stop to take ill? The posters are all up—folks will be expecting a show.”

  “And they’ll have plenty shows to see.” Liza feigned a sneeze. “Just not mine.”

  “This stunt is going to cost us both.”

  Clay stormed off with her promise that she might be up for one show, maybe if she felt better later. She swung by her trailer to pick up her little sister and get her safely tucked away.

  She and Twiggy wound through the midway, walking hand in hand. The child was none too happy about missing Liza’s animal show, and only the promise of a treat prevented a tantrum that she had no time for. Twiggy had stared in wonder at the concession stand, gawking at everything before she settled on pink-and-blue cotton candy. She looked up at Liza in pure bliss as the sugary confection melted on her tongue. Her giggle was that of only a child who could still be awed by something so simple. Of course, with barely enough food to eat when they were with their parents, a sweet treat was something they’d rarely experienced. And from the expression on her face, sweets weren’t much on the menu while she lived with the witch doctor either.

  Pitchmen hawked their wares; music thrummed from the speakers mounted near every pole. Dancers and performers entertained the crowd in small groups. And the games—the games were a hit. Liza guided Twiggy to the water shot, where patrons sat on stools and aimed their water guns at a laughing clown. There was an obvious shill in the pack, a carnie Liza had exchanged few words with, but he seemed nice enough, if rough around the edges. As was the common practice, he’d been installed to help convince the marks to step up, drop their coins, and play. Judging by the crowd, he was more than doing his job.

  They moved on, Liza maneuvering them to just the right spot, close enough to be seen by her target without making a show of it. Twiggy yanked her hand and pointed.

  “Look, look!”

  Liza narrowed her eyes at the object of Twiggy’s fascination—Eloko. The dwarf had a massive crowd before him. He stalked back and forth across the raised stage, fully in character. If people were not drawn in by the sight of a small, grass-covered, golden-eyed cross between a human and a . . . she didn’t know what, it was the way he wove a tale. Grudgingly, Liza admitted he was a master.

  They stood at the edge of the crowd. Eloko spotted her and winked. Fine, that part was done. Liza tapped her foot, crossed her arms, and generally tried to avoid looking at the little man. Twiggy, however, was entranced. Eloko continued with his tale.

  “. . . and the warrior, he was a great warrior indeed. He hefted his spear, the one hewn from the mountains of the savanna, forged beneath the earth, handed down from chief to chief since the beginning of time. The warrior stood with his legs slightly parted and held out his right arm, the long spear held tightly in his fist.” Eloko stopped, positioned himself to demonstrate, and raised his hands, using a long stick in place of the spear. “The warrior stalked his enemy across a vast distance. To others he was but a speck on the horizon, but the warrior found him easily, amid a hundred thousand other soldiers. He reared back and sent the spear sailing, as if on invisible wings, through the air, and pierced his opponent’s right eye . . .”

  “Lies!” Liza yelled. “It’s all lies.”

  Uncomfortable murmurs rose around her. Eloko’s eyes flashed, and that disgusting snout quivered. “Perhaps I could expand on my firsthand knowledge for the lady at another time?”

  “You know where to find me.”

  “Indeed I do.” Eloko resumed his story, albeit to a slightly smaller crowd.

  “Come on.” Liza couldn’t take any more and dragged away a protesting Twiggy.

  “I wanted to hear the rest of the story,” Twiggy said with a pout.

  “If you want to keep the rest of that cotton candy, you won’t say another word about it.”

  The child considered this and kept any further protests quiet.

  Back in the red trailer, Ahiku was holed up, attending to the tumult the ashes had inflicted. The vast ocean of souls within her stirred, bucking for release. It had sapped nearly every bit of her power to stay them and keep the girl from finding her at the same time. The child whom Clay had snatched for her was hastily devoured, a reckless necessity. The new soul would heal her, given time, but time was an indulgence she no longer possessed. The demon horde’s deadline notwithstanding, the animal tamer had made this personal. Hiding in plain sight for the sole purpose of embarrassing her. Come underworld or high water, the girl would pay. A quickening agent was in order.

  Behind the thick velvet curtain, she mixed a noxious brew in a skillfully carved earthen bowl hewn from the underworld. The enchantment trickled out through her gritted teeth. Ahiku lifted the bowl to her lips. After she drank, she placed the bowl back on a shelf. She set her legs wide, braced herself against the wall.
When Ahiku opened her mouth, she trumpeted a rapid series of nightmarish shrieks.

  As they moved back toward Hope and Bombardier’s trailer, where her sister would stay until this was all over, Liza felt the hair all over her body stand on end. Goose bumps followed. She stopped at once and then turned around and around.

  Twiggy, and every child nearby, tilted their heads, casting their curious gazes up, around. Liza gripped her sister’s hand, each cell in her body screaming a warning.

  Elephant came to her and sent an image of a woman. Liza recognized the same woman who had stood between Zinsa and Efe that night at the animal tent. This woman rivaled Hope in fortune-teller gear, all colorful rags and jeweled hoops. Elephant’s next image was of the woman wearing a mask, a red-and-black thing reminiscent of the season of festivals. The woman was not who she appeared to be.

  Was this who she had to face? A woman only she could see? She and . . .

  She turned to Twiggy and knelt down.

  “Did you hear that? The scream, I mean?”

  “Is that one of the shows?” Twiggy asked. “I don’t know if I want to see that one. But maybe I can; if I get scared, I can cover my eyes like Mama taught me.”

  Liza’s stomach sank. She stopped a little girl skipping ahead of her parents. “Did you hear a . . . a scream?”

  “I knew it! My papa said he didn’t hear it, so I couldn’t see that show. Thinks I’m a fraidy-cat.” The girl’s parents caught up and drew her away.

  “Hey,” Liza said to a little boy clutching a candy apple. “That scream—”

  “Was that a phonograph? Never seen one a them before.”

  Liza ignored the boy and the growing lump in her chest. “Ma’am, sir!” she called to a couple with two children. “Did you hear a scream a moment ago?”

  The couple sized up Liza with curious looks and shook their heads no, but their wide-eyed kids muttered in unison, “We did.”

  An enemy whom only she and, for some reason, children, could see or hear? Liza tugged at the leather cord around her neck and thumbed her amulet. She and the spirits had talked about this; Eloko was the link. One way or another, he’d lead her to that trailer.

  “You have to get back to your show?” Twiggy asked, snapping her out of her contemplation. “’Cause if you don’t, I want to go see Mrs. Hope.”

  Liza made the decision then: Twiggy would stay with her friends, tucked into the little pallet at the foot of their bed, with Uly posted outside the door. Liza would let Ishe know about her latest discovery and then set her sights on a certain dwarf.

  Carnies rarely slept at the end of a night. Everyone was too wound up. Once the last of the locals had left, she sought out Hope, and as she half expected, Ishe was there with Bombardier. Twiggy had climbed into their trailer and was already fast asleep.

  Liza guided Hope and Ishe to a spot in the shadows. “I think I know who it is, who she is.”

  Hope and Ishe exchanged a glance. Something passed across the fortune-teller’s face. Liza let it pass.

  “What did you see?” Hope and Ishe tripped over each other asking the same question.

  “A woman.” Liza recounted in detail the woman she’d seen, what her animal guides had shown her. And that look from Hope again.

  “What is it?” Liza asked Hope. “Did the cards tell you something?”

  Hope pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. “This is all too, too strange.”

  “If both the raven and elephant pointed out this woman . . . ,” Ishe said. He seemed to avoid her eyes. Was he afraid? Ishe? “She gotta be the one.”

  “But . . .” Liza gestured with her hands. “What am I supposed to do when I do find her?”

  “Kill her,” Ishe said without blinking an eye. “We know that’s what this been leading up to, and ain’t no reason to call it any way than what it is. When the time is right, your guides will tell you.”

  Would it be like when she accidentally killed animals? Liza wondered. “But this is a woman, a human being.”

  Hope finally spoke. “No. From what you described, she may have been human once, but that sure ain’t what she is now.”

  Liza bid her friend good night with a heavy heart.

  She’d wandered a while when Ishe had fallen in step beside her and glanced at her with unmasked admiration.

  She caught the look and recalled the time in the truck when he had revealed his feelings for her. Had she been that blind to have not seen it all along? Liza looked at his face, and sure enough, there it was, plain as the day was long. Ishe did almost as good a job at masking his emotions as she did, but now that her eyes were open, it was hard not to see.

  “Taking a life ain’t going to be easy,” Ishe continued. “Used to think that not knowing the details would help with the guilt, ya know? But not knowing, wondering what I did and how I did it. That part will eat you up, if you let it.”

  Liza felt Ishe’s pain as a living thing, something that walked behind him like a shadow. She did not want to kill this woman, though even for all her past and potential future victims, Liza couldn’t say she was exactly sorry that she had to. She hoped that after she finished with this woman, her killing would be done and over. Now that her animal guides were more under her control, she figured she might be able to control her communication with other animals. But Ishe, as long as he lived, the hyena spirit would have control of him.

  “In case I don’t make it, I want to try to heal you now. I think my Raven spirit can help me.”

  Ishe didn’t acknowledge her but stopped walking and turned to face her.

  Liza studied Ishe’s face. He stood as still as a statue, didn’t fidget, didn’t bite his lip, but he could barely face her. “What is it?”

  Ishe sighed. “No excuse for what I’m about to say.”

  Liza’s heart raced, spurred by whatever awfulness was about to spill from Ishe’s lips.

  “The demon. We got us a history.”

  He went on to tell Liza the story of his wife and daughter, the deal and sacrifice he’d made.

  “You knew all along?” She snatched away from the hand he laid on her arm. “You act like my friend. Lay all this stuff on me about how much you care, and . . . you let me give myself to you? And have the nerve to slink around acting like you want to help me but didn’t think for a minute to warn me?”

  “I didn’t guess everything at first,” Ishe stammered. “And when I did . . . my daughter.”

  “You should have told me the truth, and maybe we could have worked out a way to fight this demon together.”

  “That’s what I been doing.”

  Liza threw up her hands. “I—I can’t.” She turned and stormed off as Ishe, rooted in place, watched her go.

  The moon sat high in the sky but was overcome by clouds such that only a pale, filtered glow illuminated the earth. The smell of all the food and treats made and consumed that night mingled in with the dust and filled the air. Dusty grime coated her skin, shook from her clothes with every step. The shuffle of feet sounded off to her left, somewhere at a distance. Liza halted midstep, listened intently.

  She walked a few steps more and stopped. Maybe this is it. Never mind Eloko; was it time she faced the woman she had seen earlier? A wave of fear constricted her stomach, but she shook it off. She wouldn’t waste any more time looking over her shoulder, wondering when and where she would be attacked. She wished she could have done this with Ishe by her side, but she shook the temptation away.

  Liza turned in the direction of the noise, commanding her legs to move. She walked lightly, the way her father had taught her. The element of surprise, he’d said. You would be well suited to learn its benefits. Crouching, taking determined steps, she slunk through the shadows still within sight of the perceived safety of the trailers and other carnies. Her heartbeat quickened, sweat and the day’s grime plastering her clothes to her skin.

  “Ah,” Eloko cooed. “The smell of dinner.” He held his snout in the air, as if gulping in Liza’s scent l
ike a lion lapping at the edge of the river on a summer’s day in the savanna.

  “What?” Liza spun, and as the clouds moved, revealing a bit more of the moon, she caught a full glimpse of the dwarf. “Did I upset you back there?” She looked around, and besides Eloko, there wasn’t anybody else around. The dwarf had outsmarted her, almost.

  Eloko began moving slowly to his right, in a wide arc. “She said I should weaken you,” he said with a leer at Liza. “But she’ll thank me. I will gain much favor for ridding her of her foe. The demons will sing songs of praise in my name.”

  She. Eloko, with all his skulking around, watching, waiting. She’d guessed right. He knew her enemy. Was working for the woman.

  She began moving away from Eloko in an opposite arc.

  “I should have known. You’re no more than an errand boy. The last of the great errand boys of Zaire.” She spoke to keep Eloko occupied while she channeled all her energy into calling her guides. Without thinking, she repeated the mantra Ago had taught her.

  “Today, I ask that my animal guides reveal themselves to me. I wish to receive the gifts of sight so that they may reveal what I must see, guide, and protect me in the coming storm.”

  Eloko growled, revealing a set of grizzled, horrific teeth. His eyes flashed his annoyance. He moved his hand behind his back. “If you think I am nothing more than an errand boy, why don’t you slap me around and send me back to Ahiku, with my hair disheveled and pride hurt?”

  Ahiku. The enemy’s name. “And for all you found out about me . . .” Liza took a bold step closer. “It won’t help you.”

  “But there is much that our mutual friend did not tell you.” From somewhere beneath the layers of grassy skin, Eloko produced a long, curved knife. The steel glinted in the moonlight. Behind Eloko, Liza spotted Jamey sneaking up from his left. Darn fool might get them both killed.

  “We were a great people,” Eloko continued, waving the knife in front of Liza. “A people tasked with a noble calling. A kind of population control. One suited for our most particular tastes.”