by Peter Bunzl
Lily remembered Madame Lyons-Mane had told her to come look for her after the show. She glanced about and spotted the bearded lady clutching her parasol next to Slimwood by the tent’s exit, shaking hands and waving goodbye to the crowd. Madame Lyons-Mane seemed to feel Lily’s gaze, for she turned and stared back across the dimly lit tent, and to Lily it felt like the woman’s eyes were boring straight into her soul.
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea to ask her for help,” she muttered.
“Personally, I didn’t like the mugs on any of them,” Tolly said. “And now I’ve seen her, I don’t think I can leave Angelique in this place without checking she’s not in trouble.”
“I’m not sure it’s safe to go behind the curtain,” Robert said. “Who knows what we might find.”
“Best if we sneak out round the back among the crowds?” Tolly suggested.
“Is it me,” Lily said, “or are the circus folk watching us?”
Robert flicked a glance around the ring from under the peak of his cap. “They have been the whole evening,” he muttered. “Something’s up with this place. With all of them. It’s almost as if they’re waiting for a big occurrence to happen.”
A throng of villagers were still making their way to the exit, while some rough-looking heavyset men, dressed in regular clothes, had appeared from behind the curtain, and began to upend and fold down the empty benches to cart them away.
Lily still couldn’t work out who’d sent Mama’s notebook and invited her here. If it wasn’t Angelique then was it one of the others? Madame Lyons-Mane or Slimwood? Even the Lunk? Or those two stupid clowns who’d made a big fuss of her when she arrived…and who seemed to be keeping an eye on her now as they went about helping to dismantle the show.
She thought again of the rhyme on the card that had arrived with the ticket and red notebook:
We have a simple question, and it’s one that’s not a trick:
Some of us are wondering what it is that makes you tick?
The answer – the Cogheart – felt suddenly fraught with danger. The professor at the party had said there were only a handful of hybrids in England – three of which, including Angelique, Lily had just seen being treated badly in the show. With an overwhelming rush of nausea, Lily realized it could mean only one thing: she’d been invited here tonight because she was a hybrid too and somehow – she wasn’t quite sure how – the circus folk knew it and had made plans for her.
“MIND YOUR BACKS!” said one of the men, loudly ripping up the bench at her side.
Lily glanced round and saw they were the last three members of the audience left in the tent. “Where’s Malkin?” she asked suddenly, for they had been getting ready to leave for quite a while and he’d been remarkably quiet. It wasn’t like him not to give a running commentary on everything. Maybe he’d wound down and fallen asleep beneath the bench? She bent down to look for him, but he wasn’t there.
“Malkin’s gone!” Lily cried hoarsely, her throat constricting in alarm. Panic twisted like a broken glass wind chime in her chest. Where could he be? She felt ill thinking of him wandering round this suspicious place on his own – anything might’ve happened to him.
All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure what to do. Part of her still wanted to find Angelique, but if they didn’t recover Malkin and get home in time for the end of the party Papa would discover they were missing and they’d be in even more trouble.
“MALKIN!” she called out.
Then she put her fingers in her mouth and gave a piercing whistle.
“MALKIN!” Robert yelled, squinting across the dark tent.
“MALKIN! HERE, BOY!” Tolly brushed his hair out of his face with the back of his hand.
Robert wasn’t sure the fox would respond to a call like that, but it was worth a go. They waited, listening for Malkin’s shrill bark… But it never came. And his bright red brush was nowhere to be seen.
The worry was suffocating; Lily could barely breathe. She loosened her scarf. Her eyes darted desperately about the tent, scanning the blurred silhouettes of the heavyset men who were busy pulling up benches, ignoring their cries of alarm.
In the same instant, Slimwood dropped the flap across the exit, while Madame Lyons-Mane held up her parasol and let it fall sharply to the ground. At which signal, the men all turned ominously towards Lily and her friends, dropping what they were doing and coming for them. Lily’s heart beat loud as a drum. They had been tricked.
Malkin had bored of the performances quite early and decided that he would take a look around and do some solo investigating instead.
While Robert, Lily and Tolly were watching the dreadful antics of the show, he’d slunk away beneath the rows of seats and fidgeting feet. Avoiding the scattered popcorn droppings and the half-eaten toffee apples stuck to chair legs, he crawled to the edge of the tent, and shimmied under a loose flap of canvas.
Outside in the field, the candles in their jam jars flickered like fireflies in the mizzle, guttering. Mice and rats scampered around them, and moths flittered above, attracted by the light. Malkin growled and snapped his teeth at them, and they scattered.
The haze cleared momentarily and he saw that the fencing and ticket kiosk had already vanished. The rest of the signs and stands had been taken down and folded flat and were being carted away by a gang of men towards the big Skycircus balloon floating behind the Big Top. Soon the whole site would be dismantled and ready to be transported off, along with the crew, to the flying circus’s next stop.
The grey murk descended again. Malkin set off after the men, taking care to keep to the shadows as he followed their path. The ground beneath his paws felt soft with the damp of the field. He shivered at the cold slimy feeling of it against his footpads.
The big striped Skycircus balloon bobbed above a huge wooden gondola, at least three storeys high – almost as tall as Brackenbridge Manor itself – and shaped like an old galleon. Its keel ground into the grass like a beached boat at low tide; it was anchored to the field by taut ropes and the mist had left raindrops hanging from them, like dewy spiderwebs. Rows of portholes curved round each floor. Malkin tried to count them, but lost his place after twenty or so. He guessed that each one represented a cabin. The gondola must have contained enough rooms for the whole circus troupe to live in as they moved from place to place.
Why had this Skycircus ship come here? Malkin wondered. And how had this Angelique and the rest of them got hold of Lily’s mama’s notebook? Lily would be so pleased with him if he found out. Unlike those other clanking mongrel-pups gawping at the show, he was out here investigating – sniffing out the truth beneath the facade, searching for clues and answers. Pretty soon, he’d solve this mystery and get to the heart of what it was about!
He snuck closer to the gondola and hid behind a colourful pile of discarded signage. He would be safe here for a while. He watched four large men carrying bales, props and fencing into the sky-ship’s cargo bay. The Skycircus wasn’t like any other type of circus Malkin had heard of. They usually travelled by train, or in a caravan of wagons. But this troupe seemed to float about in this strange bulbous sky-ship. Perhaps the answer to all Lily’s riddles lay inside it. In there…
Malkin approached the ramp cautiously and then ducked underneath it, snuffling at a bag of wooden pegs that had tumbled down behind a stack of cut-out figures painted on thin wooden board. The figures smelled old and rotten, and looked like they were falling to pieces. Only the paint seemed to be holding them together. He’d noticed that the tent and the sky-ship – in fact this whole place – was the same. Something about it felt stale and fishy – and not in a good way, like the fishmonger’s in the village.
Malkin poked his head out from beneath the ramp and stared up into the dark interior of the ship. One of the men was just disappearing inside, leading a pair of horses up the gangway and into the cargo bay. There was a shout of “MIND YOUR HEADS!” and a big cage with two lions, a tiger and a bear inside was wheeled on board.
He wondered if he should really risk climbing aboard and looking inside, or if it was better to go back to the Big Top and rejoin Robert, Lily and Tolly and make a plan together. But they didn’t even know where to start. Perhaps talking to the animals for a few minutes would help – surely those creatures would know what was going on?
He shimmied up the ramp and into the darkness of the gondola’s loading bay.
The wild animals’ cage was parked in the centre of the space, secured to cleats on the floor with ropes. The lions and tiger and bear inside looked mangy and mournful.
“Good evening,” Malkin said to them pleasantly.
But they didn’t respond. It seemed they were not mechanimals but wild beasts, and consequently couldn’t understand a word he said. They looked dumb as a box of rocks, and twice as dolorous. It would be no use trying to get any inside information out of them. The best he could expect was a bunch of disappointing squawks and growls – that’s if he was lucky, and if he was not, then probably a few farts and burps as well!
He was about to give up his quest and beat a hasty retreat, when he heard two voices at the base of the cargo ramp.
He dipped down on his belly and inched to the edge of the loading bay, then peered out. The figures, leaning together in such a conspiratorial way, were a bit of a blur in the mist, but Malkin recognized the voice of Slimwood and the shape of Madame Lyons-Mane. He slithered closer and pricked up his ears to try and catch their conversation.
“…the ticket and book must’ve drawn her as we’d hoped,” Madame Lyons-Mane was saying.
“It worked then, our flytrap?” Slimwood replied. “She really does think the winged girl has something to do with her mother?”
“Oui.” Madame Lyons-Mane laughed a cut-glass laugh. “Mon Dieu! If only she knew the facts. But I guarantee that she’ll wait until after the show to speak with Angelique. When that happens, I want you and the Lunk to grab her.”
Malkin jumped to his feet. He had to get back to warn Lily, Robert and Tolly right away. They must flee, and quick!
Behind him, the lions and tiger and bear in their cage growled softly and the horses whinnied and shifted in their stalls.
As soon as the bearded lady and the ringmaster returned to the Big Top, he stepped from the cargo bay and ran to the end of the ramp. He was just about to jump down when an enormous figure loomed up in front of him through the mist.
He tried to dodge away from it, but its hand shot out and grabbed him in a self-assured grip. “What’s going on?” Malkin cried, his voice wavering with shock. “Unhand me, you fiend!”
The figure laughed, and the creaking cackle emanating from its mouth sounded like fingers scraping down a blackboard.
The Lunk! Malkin’s alarmed barks were silenced by the mechanical’s large fingers grasping his snout. The Lunk shoved a dog muzzle over Malkin’s face, and drew the straps up tight, slicing into his fur. Then he stuffed the fox unceremoniously into a sack. The drawstring swooshed shut over Malkin’s head, grazing the tips of his ears, before he was bundled up like an unwanted cat and thrown over the Lunk’s shoulders with a loud and painful clang.
Pins and needles jarred through the cogs in Malkin’s legs. What an ignominious end to the evening! He hadn’t been wound since this morning either. How could he be so stupid as to wander away from the others, and without his key?
The Lunk creaked back up the incline of the loading ramp, and Malkin realized he was being returned to the cargo bay. The cogs in his stomach fizzed with regret. What a fool he was to be so easily fox-napped! His friends were in trouble and now he had no way to warn them that Lily was about to be kidnapped too.
An air of menace wafted through the tent, accompanied by the sweaty stench of the approaching men. Robert counted them. There were at least ten, if not more. Eager, heavyset fellows, with bulging tattooed arms and dark eyes in shadowed sockets.
“We need to get out of here fast,” he told Lily and Tolly, glancing at the exit.
Slimwood and Madame Lyons-Mane still had it blocked. They’d barely reacted to Lily’s cry of alarm – in fact, they might’ve even been smirking.
Slimwood had his arms folded as if he was waiting for the children to be brought to him, while Madame leaned on her parasol and watched as the men split apart and tried to surround them.
“There must be another way out!” Robert exclaimed. He picked up a chair and threw it at the men, but one merely batted it aside, and another caught it in his hand like he was performing a circus trick, while the rest of them laughed.
“We gotta find Angela,” Tolly said.
“And Malkin,” Lily snapped. She pulled at Robert’s sleeve, and pointed in the direction of the artists’ entrance, where the curtains had been taken down. “There!” she cried. “We can slip through there.”
They ran in a scrambling panic, the men following. The end of Lily’s scarf dragged behind her in the dust and she hiked it up from round her heels.
They’d almost reached the far side of the ring when a horrible caterwauling emanated from behind the artists’ exit, and, with an awful wrenching sound, the Lunk appeared in the gap, blocking that way out.
His neck screeched slowly as he turned to watch them with hardened interest. Headlamps glowed behind the brights of his eyes, flickering with evil malice.
The men chasing them stopped and gathered round, throwing little broken-toothed grins and tips of the head to each other as they drew in from every side, making a ring around the children with space for the Lunk to step through. The Lunk ground forward with his arms outstretched.
Lily stopped in her tracks and looked desperately about. The three of them huddled together, trying to keep an eye on the Lunk and the men all at once.
Robert’s hands trembled as he groped in the pocket of his da’s coat for his penknife and pulled it out, unfolding the blade.
“You can’t fight a metal man with that,” Tolly hissed.
Robert shook his head. “I’m going to cut a hole in the tent,” he whispered.
“Where?” Lily asked.
“Anywhere will do, but we need a distraction!”
“I’ve just the thing.” Tolly put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the firecrackers and a box of matches. “Screw up your peepers!” he shouted.
Robert and Lily closed their eyes tight as Tolly lit a cracker and threw it at the men.
BANG!
The men ducked and cowered away as it went off. Tolly threw another.
BANG!
Lily blinked and spotted a gap in their line. She pulled Tolly and Robert by the hand and they ran through it, towards the canvas wall of the Big Top.
The Lunk saw what they were doing and let out a loud squeal of alarm, but Tolly lit another firecracker and threw it at him. “Hurry!” he cried.
Robert jabbed his knife through the canvas of the tent and began sawing downwards, the explosions still echoing in his ears – or was it the Lunk screeching as he ambled towards them?
BANG!
Tolly threw a fourth firecracker at Slimwood and Lyons-Mane, who were rushing at them from the other side.
Slimwood covered his face with a hand as his red tailcoat flew out behind him. “STOP THEM!” he cried.
Robert realized the bangs had gone quiet.
“You’d better get a move on,” Tolly said. “I’ve run out of crackers.”
Robert pulled the knife from the slit in the tent and ripped the two halves of the canvas apart to make a hole. “You first,” he said, thrusting Lily through. Tolly went second and Robert third. As he scrambled through the slit, Slimwood gripped his leg. Robert winced in pain and slipped, but Lily and Tolly seized his arms and yanked him until he tumbled out onto the grass.
Quick as a flash, the three of them were up and ru
nning. Drizzle folded around them. A few feet away the dim shape of the gigantic Skycircus balloon pulsed like a glow-worm. Robert kicked over an empty jam jar. The candle lights that had marked the path were gone and so was the fence and kiosk. The rest of the audience had long since left. There was no one about to help them.
They skirted a patch of flattened grass and ran towards a copse of trees that stood at the edge of the field.
There they stopped and caught their breath. Robert heaved in great lungfuls of air, trying to cool the panic flooding through him. Beneath his coat and jacket, his shirt clung cold and damp to his back.
He could hear the men nearby, searching for them.
“Why are they hunting us?” he gasped, agitated.
“I don’t know,” Lily whispered hoarsely. “Perhaps Malkin does. They could’ve captured him already. He might be in grave danger. We must find him.”
“And Angela…I mean, Angelique.” Tolly wiped the sweat from his face. His hands were shaking from throwing the firecrackers. “D’you think they’ve trapped her an’ all?”
Whatever Lily was about to reply was interrupted by one of the men shouting: “THIS WAY!” Then two glowing headlamps turned towards them, and the Lunk was coming, along with other figures holding lanterns above their heads.
“MISS HARTMAN!” a deep booming voice called out. Robert recognized it as Slimwood’s. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. No point hiding in an open field. We’ve got your mechanimal, and we have you surrounded.”
Lily’s mouth fell open. She rubbed her eyes. “W-what do they want from me?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Robert thought she might cry, but she bit her lip and held the fear in.
Suddenly there was a whooshing sound and the ghostly shape of the Big Top collapsed. Through the mist they saw flashes of its candy-coloured canvas folding in on itself like the rippling waves of a patterned ocean.
