by Trudi Jaye
“I can’t have a cat in the clinic,” said Sam. “It’s not hygienic.”
Celestine frowned, tensing up again. First he wanted her to stay, and now he was saying she couldn’t? Pushing herself up onto her elbows, Celestine tried to sit up. Artemis hissed in Sam’s direction.
“What are you doing?” said Sam, moving forward, his hands reaching out. “Just lie back.”
Celestine instinctively lurched back out of his way and he hesitated, hovering over her.
“I thought you wanted us out of here?” she said, confused.
“I said the cat had to go.”
“If the cat goes, I go.” She glared up at Sam, and Artemis smooched her face. She smoothed one hand down her soft fur and Artemis started to purr.
Sam sighed. “Fine. The cat stays.”
Jack shuffled in the background. “I’ve said to Indigo that we’ll have our meeting after lunch. Is that okay?”
Sam nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on Celestine for a little bit longer, but I’ll get her back to her trailer by lunchtime.”
“Then I’ll leave you in Sam’s care, Celestine.” He nodded to them both, then disappeared out the door.
The trailer suddenly seemed less crowded, as if Jack had more than just his own self inside his body and he’d taken his crowd of followers with him when he’d left. Celestine let out her breath in a rush and lay back against the pillow.
“Just rest easy here for a while. I have a few things that I have to work on in the meantime.”
“When can I go back to my trailer?” she asked. “There’s a show later. I have to set up my tent.”
“Your tent?”
Celestine hesitated. People sometimes reacted strangely to her profession. “I’m a fortune-teller. Madame Fortune.”
Sam didn’t even blink. “Perhaps you can skip it today? You’ve got a concussion from that knock to the head.”
Celestine shook her head. “I feel fine. I want to do my share.” And she wanted to get out of his clinic and away from here. She didn’t trust the way she felt around Sam.
“Maybe a couple more hours?” he said. “I can help you put up the tent, if you like.”
Artemis purred and rubbed her head against Celestine’s cheek. She did feel a little woozy still. “Okay. I’ll just rest here for a while.”
“Do you want the radio on?”
Celestine shook her head.
Sam stood up and moved away to do something on the other side of the clinic.
She lay there for a while, absently stroking Artemis, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this mess. She felt rather than saw Sam, like a faint buzzing on the edge of her consciousness. It made her feel twitchy and unable to sleep or rest. She wanted to blame the way she was feeling on her concussion, perhaps on the aftereffects of the fall she’d taken. But she knew that it wasn’t the reason she was so on edge.
It was that every time she looked at Sam, all she could see was his dead body lying on the floor of a warehouse somewhere. She knew that was what he had coming to him. Maybe not today, and perhaps not even in a week or two weeks. But soon, this lovely, vibrant doctor who had helped her down the side of the mountain was going to die.
And she wasn’t going to do a thing about it.
Chapter 5
“I have to go now,” said Sam. He was standing next to Madame Fortune’s draped velvet tent at one end of the sideshow section of the Carnival. There were people running back and forth around them, solving last minute problems before the Carnival opened its gates for the evening’s show. The sideshow acts were lined up, creating an alleyway, all brightly lit and boasting of the wonders either inside their tents or on show outside.
Celestine’s tent was a luxurious dark red with a fabric sign held up by two poles proclaiming her fortune-telling prowess across the front. An enormous eye gazed back at him from the center. Golden tassels accented the corners and entrance, which was pulled back to reveal a darkened interior.
Inside was the circular table he’d carried in from Celestine’s trailer, which she’d covered in a black velvet cloth and a red and gold patterned covering. She’d placed a crystal ball in the center and some tarot cards to one side. A gas lamp glowed in the dim interior from a long, narrow side table, picking up the golden highlights in the patterned pillows that adorned the chairs. Next to the lamp, there was a skull, half in shadow, a few green and blue bottles, and a jeweled box. Red and gold beads hung in curved chains down from the side of the tent, adding another layer to the atmosphere.
A shiver ran down his spine. Was she really a fortune-teller?
When he was younger, he would have scoffed and said it wasn’t possible. But he’d seen an awful lot since then. The Experiment had been filled with people who had abilities that shouldn’t have existed; Veronica herself had had the power to control the people and events around her with chilling precision. The Jolly Knight Carnival also had its own magic—more subtle than Veronica’s, perhaps, but just as powerful.
What if Celestine was as real as the rest of them?
She’d told him he was going to die. She’d known Veronica’s name, had mentioned Jack and Rilla as well.
What if she was right?
He’d hadn’t been worried about her words when they’d been up the mountain. She’d been out of her mind, raving because of the bump to her head. But now, as he stood looking at her fortune-telling tent, he began to wonder.
“Thanks for your help,” said Celestine from behind him.
Sam jumped. “Uh... No worries,” he said, as he turned.
She was leaning on the crutches he had loaned her from his clinic supplies and had changed into another long flowing skirt and a floaty shirt. Her hair was pulled back under a deep red scarf that was tied at the back of her head, and her dark kohl reapplied to her eyes. She looked distant, unreachable. The world’s biggest cat, Artemis, curled in and around her legs. Celestine gazed up at him, a small smile on her lips.
He cleared his throat. “Just try to stay off that leg for a while. I’m pretty sure it’s not broken, but sprains can hurt almost as much.”
She nodded. “I will.”
Her dark blue eyes seemed to know more than they should, as if they could see into the shadows around him. He caught a glimpse of the violet that ringed the edge of her eyes. Everything about her seemed strange, not quite real or normal.
Nothing new there. He should be used to it—he’d been living outside normal for a long time now.
But all of a sudden he felt the overwhelming urge to get away from those eyes. “I’ll be off then. Take care.” He spun around and stalked off, managing not to look back and see if she was watching.
He barely even saw the rest of the sideshows as he strode past—he didn’t slow down until he was outside the big, silver Airstream that belonged to the Ringmasters. The trailer was an older model, but it was in excellent condition with a shine on it that looked like someone had been out just that morning working on it.
He knocked, opening the door when he heard Jack’s voice calling from inside. One thing he was sure of was that he could help Jack control his absorbing talent—he’d seen similar cases in his years with The Experiment. If he focused on something else, on someone else’s problems, perhaps he’d regain his equilibrium.
Indigo was already there, a hot coffee in front of her at the small booth table.
“Hi,” she said, lifting her cup in salute. “Heard you had an exciting morning.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, sorry about that. I know you have to get back to the Compound.” He’d only met the Carnival’s archivist for the first time when she’d destroyed the block Veronica had placed inside him, but he already knew he liked her. She was efficient and intelligent, and had worked under enormous pressure to protect not only Missy and the other Carnival folk, but also himself, someone she’d never met before. Outwardly she maintained a sleek and elegant persona, always dressed in perfect matching pencil skirts and delicate shirts like the ones she was
wearing this morning. But he knew on the inside, she was more like a giant, overprotective teddy bear.
Indigo shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not heading home till tomorrow.”
Jack was at the bench, pouring another couple of coffees. “Milk? Sugar?” he said.
Sam shook his head. “Neither. Just black coffee, please.”
“Hard core coffee drinker, eh?”
“It’s just what I got used to at The Experiment.” His hands curled into a fist. He usually tried to avoid thinking about The Experiment at all, but it felt like he’d thought of nothing else today.
“So how’s Celestine?” asked Jack, as he brought the cups over to the booth and sat down.
“She’s borrowing some crutches and insisted on doing today’s show.” He took a sip of his coffee, and his hand shook slightly. “I helped her put her tent up.”
“Ah yes, Madame Fortune.” Jack’s voice was amused.
Sam hesitated, but he had to ask the question burning in his mind. “Is she any good at what she does? Fortune-telling?” He rubbed his palms together nervously.
Jack grinned. “World’s worst fortune-teller, apparently. Given the magic we have around us, it’s kind of ironic. It drives Rilla nuts, but Celestine is so lovely, we can’t throw her out. No one can figure out what Abba was thinking when he took her in and let her start her act.”
Sam let out the breath he’d been holding. At least he didn’t have to worry about her premonitions of his death. “What’s her story?” Why would the previous Ringmaster not have told anyone more about her?
Jack nodded toward Indigo. “Indie probably knows more than me.”
Indigo took a sip of her coffee. “She’s been with us for maybe three years, I think.” She shrugged. “Arrived one morning, looking like she hadn’t eaten in a month, terrified out of her wits, and begging for a place. That enormous cat was at her side, even then.”
“Why was she so scared?”
“No one knows. Abba never said and neither did she. He took her in, and despite the fact she can’t tell the difference between the future and a potato, the punters love her. She knows how to put on a good show, and keep them entertained.” Indigo pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.
“And since then? No one has figured out why she was so scared?” Sam felt unease creeping along his body, making the hairs stand on end.
Indigo shook her head. “She keeps to herself. Wears long sleeves and gloves even in summer, and won’t let people touch her.” She shrugged. “Not the weirdest person here by a long shot.”
Sam absorbed what Indigo had said. What had she been running from? What was her secret? He wanted to get to know Celestine better, to help her. But then he remembered those eyes that seemed to see right into his soul. Did he really want someone else to know how dark it was?
Better to put her out of his mind. He turned to Jack. “So how are the exercises going?” He’d given the Ringmaster some training techniques to help him draw his power forth in small increments. Sam had never seen an ability quite like Jack’s. He could absorb the magic all around him and use it for himself. It had been misnamed blocking for a long time before Rilla had realized he wasn’t just blocking their power, he was actually drawing it into himself to be used or dispersed again.
Jack cleared his throat. “I feel a little stronger. I can control the absorbing better. But I definitely think we need to keep working on it.”
Sam nodded. “I have more that you can try as you go along. It’s a process, a step-by-step program that you need to go through to get stronger. You can’t skip any of it.”
Jack leaned back and sighed, his hands linked around his coffee cup on the table. “I can get back to the same energy pool that helped me fight Hugo,”—he glanced at Sam—“the man who used curse magic to attack us last season. That’s a massive step. But it’s taking all my energy to hold it in, to break the next step in my absorbing power, so I don’t steal everyone’s magic. I’m exhausted and it’s only the first week of the season.” Jack’s fingers tightened on the cup.
Indigo leaned forward and put one hand on Jack’s arm. “I’m researching it in the Carnival library as well. We must have some record of it somewhere, a way to make it better. I’ll find something else to help.”
For the first time, Sam noticed the bags under Jack’s eyes. “Are you sleeping?” he said.
Jack shrugged. “I’m nervous about sleeping. What if I do something while I’m asleep? My subconscious brain doesn’t know I’m not supposed to absorb everything.”
“What did you do at the Compound over winter?”
“It was easier there. Except for the Winter Spectacular, we weren’t relying on our powers. So if I slipped up, it didn’t matter.”
“How many slip ups did you have?”
Jack shook his head. “Maybe three or four?”
“That’s not so bad.” Not great, either.
“It is while we’re on the circuit. What if I start absorbing just as Missy and Alphonso are doing their act? Or while the rollercoaster is at the most dangerous section?”
“Neither of those examples relies totally on the magic,” said Sam. He’d known Alphonso a long time; the old acrobat was talented with or without magic.
“The magic helps everything flow better. We use it to push our boundaries. Missy can do things that she would never attempt on the trapeze without the added power of our Carnival magic. If I take that away from her at the wrong moment, it could be disastrous.”
“So we train harder. We keep monitoring your progress. This is just like strengthening muscles. You have to practice, do it as often as you can, and eventually you’ll get stronger.”
“It’s the eventually part I’m worried about. I can’t keep up this level of concentration forever.” Jack’s voice was grim, his eyes bleak.
“Then let’s figure out a solution.” Sam tapped a pattern on the Formica tabletop, thinking hard. “There are people around us who don’t need all their power, all the time. There are certain times when they can let you have some of it, right? What if they let you absorb their magic for an hour between five o’clock and six o’clock every morning? Just before people are getting up, outside of show hours. We tell everyone what’s happening, and they know they can’t use their magic then.”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t feel comfortable taking anyone’s power like that. I need to learn to control this.”
Indigo put one hand on Jack’s arm. “You might have to accept help here, Jack. We could have a gathering, make sure everyone is on board with it. And it wouldn’t be forever. Just until you’ve got yourself sorted.”
“I’ll talk to Rilla,” said Jack. His voice brooked no arguments.
“Then let’s move on to our other topic,” said Sam. “Veronica.” His voice was harsh, but he couldn’t help it.
Indigo nodded. “I’ve been researching her as well, trying to find a chink in her armour. There must be something in one of those old books about her powers.”
“What have you found so far?” Sam leaned forward, his eyes locked on Indigo like she was a lifeline. Perhaps she was.
But she shrugged one delicate shoulder and made an apologetic face. “Nothing useful so far. Alphonso has been helpful in adding to the information you’ve already given me about her. Based on what you’ve both told me, I’m convinced she’s not just going to disappear. She has an obsessive-compulsive personality that won’t allow her to get over her brother’s death, or even take any of the responsibility for it. In her mind, we’re squarely to blame.”
“To be fair, Zeph and Tilly did start the fires that killed him,” said Jack drily. “We were technically to blame.”
Sam shook his head. “Marco had wanted to die for a long time, he just couldn’t figure out how. He was a shell of a person, artificially kept alive long after he should have died by Veronica’s magic. I couldn’t help him, none of us could. We were too scared of Veronica.” Sam took a breath. He�
�d tried to defy Veronica and help Marco, but she’d caught him every time. “He wasn’t living. He was stuck inside that emaciated body, unable to do anything more than look at the ceiling. Toward the end, he lost his senses. He’d given in to the madness. Veronica couldn’t see it. She was keeping him alive like some sort of toy. She used him as an excuse to do the terrible things she did. That we did.”
“She had a block on you, Sam. You had no choice,” said Indigo softly.
“I should have...” Sam shook his head, trying to stop the images rushing through his head. All the people he’d helped Veronica punish. The pain. The blood. “We have to find her and destroy her. It’s the only way she’s going to stop being a threat to us. I want to search some of her old haunts. See if I can smoke her out into the open.”
“That’s like poking a stick at a bear—while playing Russian roulette,” said Jack, shaking his head. “We’d end up with her even more angry at us.”
“She’s already as angry as it’s possible to be. She’s focused all her anger and grief into getting revenge for her brother’s death. We know that. So let me hunt her down. Indigo can give me a few places to look, and we can get rid of her before she even thinks about making a move on the Carnival. No one gets hurt.”
“What do you know about hunting? You’re a doctor.” Jack shook his head. “No. We’re going to do this methodically. We’re going to know everything there is to know about Veronica Snow before we’re done. And we’re going to crush her when we do.”
The look in Jack’s eyes was enough to convince Sam to pause in his arguments. The Ringmaster looked like he would take on Veronica right then and there. Sam took a calming breath. “Fine.”
“We have to figure out a way to mitigate the threat she poses to us.” Jack glanced between Indigo and Sam. “I’m relying on you both to find a way to neutralize her.”
