by Amy Ephron
Anna shook her head and exchanged another look with Julian, who nodded.
“And then,” asked Anna, “did Tara serve polenta griddle cakes with homemade honey?”
“Yes,” said Tess and Max in unison.
Anna sighed. “Lorenzo gets lonesome for the Italian Alps. That’s where he was born. And then he gets incredibly cranky. So they move the carnival a hill or two and dress the mountain up with pine trees and trick him so that he thinks they’re in the Italian Alps. And he gets a little cheerier. Not much, but a little. Somehow he never catches on.”
“So, we were still in Devon?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Anna.
“Yes,” Julian echoed. “Most likely still in Devon.”
“They’re still in Devon!” said Tess excitedly. And she and Max both smiled.
She went on to tell them about the morning, how after breakfast Lorenzo intended to enlist Tess, force her rather, into taking Anna’s place in the aerial ballet show, The Breathtaking Baranovas. Tess explained that somehow overnight, her picture had been painted in instead of Anna’s. And how frightened she was that that might somehow set her future, their future in stone.
“I’m not trained to be an aerial ballet star,” said Tess, nodding humbly to Anna, “but I also had the oddest feeling that if I had, if I had even performed one real show, that neither Max or I would ever be able to leave the carnival. I didn’t put this leotard on this morning,” she said to Anna, “it was sort of like it put itself on me . . . when I wasn’t even looking.”
“And I didn’t put on this carnival uniform, either,” said Max, echoing his sister’s fear.
Julian interrupted. “Carnival Magic can have a dark side, too,” he said.
Tess thought it best not to question that, as they’d had a bit of experience with that, too.
She told the part about how Lorenzo had chased her. Calling her name. And then she remembered he’d even tried to change her name to Tessa. “He tried to change my name to Tessa. I forgot that part,” she said. “That was ridiculous. The idea that he could change my name. The idea that he was going to tell me that I was going to work for him.” In that moment she sounded like herself. Tess, the girl who wasn’t afraid of anything. But as she said that, she could hear Lorenzo calling her. “Tess-a, Tess-a, Tess-a.” The words echoing on each other. Tess took a deep breath and looked around and realized she was just hearing it in her mind. “He was chasing me.
“Then”—she hesitated—“this part won’t make any sense . . . we found an opening in The House of Mirrors, and that’s how we ended up here.”
Neither Anna or Julian seemed at all surprised by this last bit.
“Max found it, actually,” said Tess, giving her brother the proper credit. “And Alexei was an enormous amount of help.” Tess sighed because she realized that she missed him.
“And then,” Max cut in, “Tess held a needle up.”
Were they going to ask her to explain the needle?
“Where did you get the needle, Tess?” asked Max, as if anticipating her anxiety.
“If I told you I pulled it out of a baby tiger’s paw, would you believe me?”
“Yes,” said Max, showing amazing sibling stripes, “I probably would.” Neither Anna or Julian questioned this answer, either.
The moon was out now, and there were stars. Galaxies of them. Almost as if the dark blue sky had sparkling polka dots in varying sizes.
“I don’t understand something,” Max said, looking at Julian. “How come Anna has a guardian and the twins, Tatiana and Alexei, don’t?”
“But the twins do have a guardian,” said Julian. “They always have. Tara. Tara’s their guardian. Actually she’s all of their guardians. I just volunteered when it was clear Lorenzo was going to send Anna away. She couldn’t go by herself. And Lorenzo insisted on keeping the twins there.”
Tess ran back through all of it in her mind and realized that she and Max had been alone with Tara only once in the psychic wagon, but that was a few hours before Tatiana and Alexei were scheduled to perform. She realized whenever they’d been with Alexei and Tatiana, showing up backstage and sewing the star on the leotard; setting the tent up; turning the beds down; appearing at breakfast with the polenta cakes, Tara had always been there watching over them.
“I know, Tara’s a curious choice for a guardian,” said Julian. “But then again, you could probably say that I’m a curious choice for a guardian, too.”
~ CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ~
the seven estry
They invented the language,” said Max. “How come no one can pronounce anything properly?” It was a fairly rude statement, and Max was somewhat relieved when Julian laughed. Julian was speaking to them about the Seven Estry.
The Seven Estry.
That wasn’t what it was called at all. That was just what it sounded like when Julian said it.
It was actually the Severn Estuary, which is a geographical designation.
An estuary is where a river runs into the sea. And the Severn Estuary is where the River Severn, the largest river in England, runs into the sea at the very top of the Bristol Channel that borders both England on one side and Wales on the other. Yes, they really were in Wales, it seemed.
So, in answer to the question that they’d asked before—was there any way to get back to Devon across the sea?—the answer was one that might be called a hard yes.
There was a lot to consider.
There was the distinct possibility that if Tess and Max stayed at The Ghost Carnival, they might never be able to leave. What if they were enlisted as workers there, too?
There was the unknown factor of what might happen to them or where they would be if they left through the outside gate of The Ghost Carnival. Max and Tess had had an experience like this before, where it was almost as if they’d stepped off the edge of the world. And both Tess and Max agreed, if it were possible to avoid this, they would definitely prefer it!
Not that they might not have already stepped off the edge of the world just by going through the pane of glass, but at least the sky still looked the same, at least there were stars. And people seemed to have barbecued dinner and drink orange drinks.
Julian explained to them that from where the wagon was parked, if they went the other direction, away from the carnival, they’d get to the coast. There was a beach there. Not without its own risks and dangers. But at least there was a shoreline onto the sea, and on the other side of the sea was England. The northwest side of Devon, not the southeast, but at least they might have a shot at crossing the land and getting back to South Devon . . . assuming they were able to cross that bit of the ocean.
There were apparently a number of remarkable things about the Seven Estry. The beach and the tide and the Bristol Channel itself, which fed into the Atlantic Ocean, had a few remarkable distinguishing characteristics.
At one point in the day (or two points sometimes) on the beach, the tide was so low that when it went out, you couldn’t even see the sea from the sand. Such a long stretch of sand that it almost seemed as if you were on a desert. And then when the tide came in again, they said it came in like “a galloping horse.” High, mighty, with enormous riptides and other terrifying complications. “It’s thought to have the highest surge waves in the world—they call them tidal bores,” said Julian. “A tidal bore is when a wave breaks so high because the tide is coming in so quickly,” he explained. “Well, maybe the second highest now. I think there’s one in Australia that might be higher.”
At least that was the way Julian explained it to them.
“We’re a little south here,” he said, “not quite sure how far south, so the ocean’s a little tamer here, but it can be quite rough.”
Julian seemed to be suggesting this as an escape route, a way to get back to England, a way to get back to Devon, but somehow they’d have to cross
the sea.
“We might be down by Swansea,” said Julian. “I’m not really sure. Alberto doesn’t give us a road map.”
The fact that Julian didn’t quite know where they were didn’t give Max a big boost of confidence on their chances, and when Julian added this next bit, it didn’t help at all. “You have to fight the undercurrent,” said Julian. “You know, that thing when you get hit by a wave. And you have no idea what these waves are like. Riptide. It pulls you under when the wave breaks and starts to roll back from the shore. It pulls you under and takes you along.”
Max remembered two summers ago in Long Island, after a rainstorm, he tried to bodysurf, and the surf was so high and crazy that he got flipped around, and knocked under a wave. And Max knew enough about oceans and surfing to know that most people consider the tides in Long Island to be kindergarten.
Tess remembered, too, because they’d been alone, without their parents, on the beach. An older boy who’d been swimming had seen it happen and helped Max back to shore. Tess was already swimming out to him. But the boy got to him first. Tess remembered that they hadn’t even asked his name. They thanked him. But they hadn’t even asked his name.
“Riptide?” said Tess. “And tidal bores?” She wasn’t sure she was up for riptides. Riptides and tidal bores seemed particularly unpredictable.
“And then there’s another problem,” Julian added. “There’s so much mud—famous mudflats some places. Up at the top for sure, north of here. It’s peculiar mud. It almost seems to have a mind of its own. People who’ve survived it say it reaches up and grabs you. And some of them say that they’ve seen strange creatures in the mud.”
Tess and Max exchanged a look now, wondering if they were really up for strange creatures in the mud . . .
Of course there were, thought Tess to herself. Of course there would be strange creatures that would try to grab you.
“We’re not really in the mood to be grabbed,” said Tess definitively, as if just by saying it, she could prevent it. And she reached her finger out to Max and executed a pinkie swear.
Julian hesitated, as if he wasn’t certain he should tell them this next part. “People have been known to sink into it.” The way he said this kind of indicated that they might not have ever been seen again.
What were your chances if you happened to sink into it? Max wasn’t sure he was a strong enough swimmer to take that chance. He looked at Tess to see what she thought. Tess was looking at Anna.
“But, there’s a ton of windsurfers there, in England, anyway,” Julian added, “braving the sea every day.”
Max wasn’t sure he had a certificate in windsurfing. He was pretty good on a skateboard, but he’d never really tried to even stand up on a boogie board on a wave . . . His sister, Tess, usually thought she could do anything.
“But like you said, we’re a little south of the Severn Estuary,” said Tess to Julian. “You’re just not sure how far south? And if we can cross, it’ll get us back to Devon?”
“Well, it will get you back to England, and then you’ll have to cross the land to get to Devon. But, if you can cross the sea, it most definitely will get you back to the western coast of England,” said Julian. “It most certainly will.”
Was it the sort of thing you flip a coin on? Whether to cross the sea or not?
Of course, they’d decided they would be on horseback. But Tess wondered what guaranteed that the horse could swim.
“That she can,” said Julian, as if he could read Tess’s thoughts. “She’s a funny one,” he said, looking lovingly at the horse. “And she loves to swim.”
Why couldn’t they just walk out the door and find their way to town and take a train? Max thought this to himself and didn’t say it out loud.
But it was as if Julian had heard Max. “Do you really think that would work, Max?” asked Julian, as he picked up his violin. “Can I remind you of the route you took to find your way here?”
It was decided then. Tess and Max would take the ebony-colored horse, who Julian said came from a long line of champions. Tess had already friended her.
“We discussed it,” said Anna. “It was Julian’s idea that you take the horse. But please try to take care of her. Julian’s actually quite fond of her.”
Julian almost teared up at that. He placed his violin on his shoulder. He started to play, softly at first, and then the sound got louder, brighter somehow, a sort of haunting melody that echoed across the hills, single multi-pitched tones, pure, rich, multifaceted tones that latched into a melody with highs and lows and in-betweens, as if it was the soundtrack to a story.
~ CHAPTER THIRTY ~
the first farewell
4:06 a.m. That was the exact time Julian gently shook them—very gently—by their shoulders to wake them, which they did in an instant, as sleep had been difficult to come by the night before.
Tess had slept fitfully, her body already tensed as if it was in training for the journey ahead. Meanwhile, Max’s mind had been racing so quickly he questioned whether he’d had any sleep at all. He kept running scenarios of so many things that could go wrong . . .
But Tess was game for it, determined, and he had no choice but to go along. Also, practically speaking, Max wasn’t sure they had another option except to try.
Sunrise was calculated to be 5:01, at least according to a year-old guide printed on an oversized paper that Julian had from the summer before. The plan was to be on the beach at eight minutes to five. 4:52 a.m. exactly: a long enough time to survey; not long enough to get frightened. At least that was the calculus Julian had suggested the night before.
Julian had packed them a canteen of water, a bar of dark chocolate wrapped in silver foil, biscuits, English crackers, a wedge of white cheese, and two oranges, wrapped in a cloth as if that would somehow protect them from the ocean.
“You always have to have an orange when you’re goin’ to sea,” said Julian. As if it was a superstition that you could get scurvy or something. Scurvy was a disease that sailors used to get on long ocean crossings from getting no vitamin C. Tess remembered that from history class, but she couldn’t remember if it was about Christopher Columbus or the Mayflower.
Tess felt she should be able to remember that, but she had so many other things on her mind. She’d never ridden the ebony horse. She knew they had a bond. But what if the horse was skittish, not used to taking direction? Julian had kind of intimated that the horse could be a bit wild. Tess didn’t want to frighten Max. But she made a Note to self: tell Max to hold on very tightly as we ride.
Max wished he had a compass. Julian didn’t have one. Max had asked.
Max’s iPhone had a compass on it, but both his and Tess’s phones had been out of battery for at least twenty-four hours (or was it days?). There wasn’t electricity at the traveller’s wagon. Max had asked that, too. So, all they had was the horse as their only means of transportation, and the shore and the sky as their only directional benchmarks. Max wished he had a map so he could see exactly what direction they were heading but figured when the sun came up at least they’d know that was east.
Not that that would do a lot of good if he didn’t know what latitude and longitude they were actually aiming toward. And with the apparent reputation of the coast of Wales, with its wild tides and undertows, Max was more than frightened they could be lost at sea.
“Anna and I will walk you to the top hill, just above the sand,” said Julian, “and I’ll draw a map for you to sort of show you where you are and hopefully where you’re heading.” That Julian had added “sort of” and “hopefully” didn’t give Max a lot of confidence.
“That would be great,” said Tess, elbowing Max when she said it. “Thank you.”
No matter what happened, Julian was trying to help them and it was always right to say thank you.
The horse was saddled and ready. Anna had put a ribbon on the ho
rse’s mane. Anna kissed the back of the horse’s neck and handed the reins to Tess. “Take care of her,” she said to Tess. “I can’t wait till the day when I can ride her again.”
Julian had packed an apple cut in fours, and he told Tess the apple was for the horse along with a little sack filled with something that looked like Cheerios. Though how Julian expected them to try to feed the horse at sea was beyond Tess’s understanding. So Tess took it to mean that Julian was quite confident in their ability to succeed and it was for when they reached the beach on the English shore.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Tess asked, “at least to see us off at the sand?”
“No,” said Julian, “we don’t do that. We’ll only go as far as the hill above the beach. Anna’s not really allowed to leave the carnival grounds. But you knew that, too, didn’t you, Tess?”
Tess looked puzzled, and Anna tried to lighten it. “Stop scaring them, Julian. I doubt that the tide is really as crazy as he says.” And she further explained, although Tess wasn’t sure she believed the explanation, “Alberto always brings us breakfast, and if we’re not there, he’ll come after us for sure. And who knows what would happen to you. They promised me, six months more on my contract and then I can leave.”
Tess wondered if this was true, if Anna ever was going to be allowed to leave. What did Julian mean when he said Anna wasn’t allowed to leave the carnival grounds? What would happen if she did? But there wasn’t any time left to wonder.
They followed Julian, who was holding the horse’s reins. He stopped occasionally to lovingly pat her nose. Tess caught him giving her a sugar cube. Tess wondered how long the horse had been Julian’s and thought it was incredibly generous of Julian to “lend her” to them. That was the way Tess chose to think of it, anyway; that Julian was loaning the horse to them and one day they would all be reunited. That was the only positive way to think about this.
