The Magic Carnival Box Set: Books 1-3

by Trudi Jaye

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you think I should give it up to him?” she whispered, dreading his answer.

  Garth sighed. “I’m a creature of the Carnival, Rilla. I believe in what’s best for all of us. But I also believe it’s up to the Carnival, not the Nine. In the end, what they think doesn’t matter. You should stay in the race, and whoever is chosen, that’s who’s meant to be there.”

  “But do you think I stand a chance?” Rilla held her breath.

  His eyes softened for a moment. “I’m your friend, and I believe in you, Rilla.” He hesitated. “But you need to have more confidence in yourself. I can’t give you that.”

  Rilla rolled her eyes. “Fine. So, what happened after I stormed out?”

  “They decided you need a break. That your father’s death has hit you hard.”

  “What do you mean, ‘a break’?”

  “Blago’s going to take over the running of the Gift.”

  “What! He doesn’t know what he’s doing—”

  Garth held up his hands. “Rilla, just run with it. If you really want to be Ringmaster, let them think your reaction today was grief over your dad. Otherwise, it’s just you being unstable and crazy. And that won’t win the hearts and minds of the people or the Carnival.”

  Rilla bit her lip. “Is there a chance I’m right? Could Blago and Jack be involved with the sabotage?”

  Garth shook his head. “Blago swore on the Carnival that he is innocent, and it says he’s telling the truth.”

  The hairs on her neck stood up. “It’s not foolproof, you know. It just goes by what it knows. It can be fooled like any of us.”

  “Not like any of us, Rilla. It would take someone who was really, really good to fool the Carnival.”

  “They’re capable. I’m sure of it, Garth.”

  He heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “You want to believe the worst of them, and I understand that. They’ve come out of nowhere, and they’re trying to take away what you consider yours. But they’re not bad people.”

  Rilla scowled. “You’ve been won over pretty easily.”

  “I’m going by my instincts, Rilla. Your father would have understood.”

  “But his instincts said they were suspects.”

  “You can’t possibly know that.” Garth’s deep black eyes focused on her face.

  Rilla paced in front of him, suddenly unsure. “I found a notebook. He was taking notes about his investigation into who was causing all the trouble. He suspected everyone and was being very methodical. Blago and Jack were high on the list.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Garth’s voice became deeper, and Rilla recognized a little bit of the Carnival in his tone.

  She stopped in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. “You and Jack have been getting chummy. I haven’t seen you on your own since I found out, and I couldn’t tell you in front of Jack.”

  Garth blinked. “Still, I don’t think—”

  “You don’t think? Is that enough to convince you to trust them? To put them in charge of the Gift?”

  Garth put one hand on her arm, his expression sad. “Rilla, it’s been decided. You should have stayed, but you ran out. I suggest you don’t make that mistake again.” He turned and walked toward the exit, where he paused and spoke without looking back, his voice echoing strangely in the small space. “If you want to lead the Carnival, you have to learn how to fight for it.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Right. We all know what we have to do?” Blago was at the head of the table, clearly enjoying his new role.

  Rilla sat at the other end, holding her tongue. Or at least trying to. “So, that’s it? We’re going to get Viktor to make her a new prosthetic leg and hope for the best? Everything is riding on this; surely we need to be doing something more?”

  Blago looked along the table at her, his expression confident. “She wants to be whole again. So, we make her whole.”

  She shook her head. “It seems… too literal. I don’t think it’s supposed to be that literal.” But doubts crowded her head. They’d all said she was off her game, that she wasn’t getting things right. Maybe Blago was doing it properly and she was the one who was wrong.

  “When you’re doing a Gift, don’t look for complicated. It’s generally the simplest answer that’s the best.”

  Rilla narrowed her eyes. “I’ve done a couple of these myself, Blago.” She resumed tapping her finger. “It’s too easy. We’re not putting enough thought into it.” She leaned forward, trying to catch the eyes of the other members of the Nine. No one was looking her way, except Garth. She knew what he thought.

  “Rilla, just let him do his job. You need to rest and get yourself back on form.” Tami put her hand over Rilla’s forearm, patting it gently.

  Catching another look from Garth, Rilla managed to keep her mouth shut and just nodded. Inside, it felt like a volcano was burning her alive.

  Did none of them get it? She’d been doing Gifts all her life; Blago had been out of the loop for the last thirty-five years. Why didn’t they see he was missing the point? The dragon had found a complicated Mark. Getting her one of Viktor’s engineering masterpieces in the form of a new prosthetic leg might be a start, but it wasn’t the finish. They needed more information. And they were running out of time.

  She tried one last time. “We need to do a home visit. Find out more.”

  “Rilla, your judgment has been affected,” said Tami firmly. “We all understand. You loved your father very much. But you need to sit this one out and let Blago handle it. He knows what he’s doing.” Tami put an arm around Rilla’s shoulders and squeezed. Rilla had to resist the urge to push her away.

  Garth’s voice was still ringing in her ears: You have to win the hearts and minds of the people to win the Carnival over.

  She knew he was right. And at the moment, they all thought she was delusional with grief. She had to be persuasive, not argumentative. “I’m fine. I can help,” she snapped. So much for not being argumentative.

  “Don’t worry yourself about it, Rilla. Jack and me’ll take care of it. We’ve got lots of help.” Blago spread his arms, indicating the others in the room.

  Rilla had never felt so alone. Crossing her arms on the worn tabletop, she half-listened to the rest of the plans and tried to think objectively. She’d managed to get herself locked out of the Gift, and it was her own fault. She’d run when she should have stayed. But did that mean she was wrong about this Gift?

  I want to stop feeling dead inside. I want to live again. I want to be whole again.

  The voice echoed through her head every time Rilla thought of the wish. Kara’s tone, her despair, it had felt so close, so real. It wouldn’t be fixed just by getting a new leg, no matter how amazing Viktor and his boys would make it.

  Kara thought she’d caused the accident. She needed to know she could move on, that it wasn’t her fault.

  She wasn’t wrong about this Gift. But Rilla was going to have to help Kara on her own if the dragon Gift was going to have any chance of succeeding.

  ***

  “Wait, Rilla.” Jack raced after her fleeing back. She didn’t stop, and he saw her red shirt disappear around the corner of a tent.

  He swore.

  There was a guilty knot at the bottom of his stomach, and he knew he needed to talk to her. She looked terrible. He’d never seen his father so happy; now that he was in control of the Gift, he was like a pig in mud. But Rilla seemed tired and unhappy, and he was to blame.

  He had to talk to her.

  Running around the corner of the tent, he only just glimpsed the flash of red turning toward her caravan.

  Crap.

  He didn’t want to talk to her there. It reminded him too much of when he’d kissed her. It had been a huge mistake, and he wished he could take it back. It had confused everything in his head, and he was having trouble keeping to the plan for his father. Going back to the caravan would only make it worse.


  But he had no choice. He couldn’t let her go like this.

  He banged on the door. “Rilla, let me in.”

  “Go away, Jack. Leave me alone.”

  “We have to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.” Rilla’s voice was hard. He heard her moving about in the caravan and then the sound of something slamming onto her table. “You’ve said enough.”

  “Rilla, open up. People are starting to stare.” He looked around. The area was empty.

  “Let them.”

  He banged harder. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.” He was hitting the door so hard he could feel the caravan shuddering. He took a deep breath. “Please, Rilla. Just let me in.”

  There was a long pause. Then Rilla yanked open the door. “What do you want?” She gave him a fierce scowl and her eyes flashed with anger. She held her body stiff, one hand holding the door half-shut.

  “May I come in?” Jack tried not to notice how good she smelled. All he could think about was kissing her again, and it wasn’t helping.

  “No. Say what you have to say and go.” She remained in the narrow gap and let him stand on the ground below her.

  Jack said the first thing that came into his head. “I’m sorry, Rilla. I didn’t mean to kiss you. It just happened. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He winced inside his mind. That probably wasn’t the best place to start.

  Rilla’s eyes flashed. “Is that it?”

  “I can’t believe you think we’d sabotage the Carnival. There is nothing more important to my father. It’s everything to him.”

  “But not to you. You believe we threw him out all those years ago. Perhaps it’s about revenge for you. You certainly set about twisting my words and using them against me pretty quickly.”

  Jack shook his head. “I thought I was helping you. I can see how you think I was twisting your words, but I promise you, Rilla, I’m not the saboteur.” He needed her to believe him. He didn’t know why; he just did.

  Her hand clenched around the edge of the door. “Your promises mean nothing. You’ve been spinning your lies around the Carnival, making your father seem like the only choice for Ringmaster. Well, he’s not. He hasn’t been part of the Carnival for the last thirty-eight years. It’s changed.”

  “Changed, but not for the better.” The words were out of Jack’s mouth before he could even think. “I’ve seen the holes in the big top, Rilla. The patches, the rips, and mended tears. There haven’t been many people coming to the performances, either. The Carnival isn’t making any money, is it? How long has that been going on? How long do you think you can keep the Carnival running like this?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know this Carnival is on a downward spiral, and if something doesn’t change, it’s going to implode. Do you know the definition of madness, Rilla? It’s doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. My father and I are here to provide a new opportunity, a new result.”

  “You should ask your father about how the Carnival actually works, Jack. You might find our real problems aren’t what you think.” With that, she slammed the door in his face.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  She was stuck in a time warp.

  Rilla had managed to get into Kara’s house, but it had taken much longer than she’d expected. It wasn’t easy breaking into someone’s house, but she’d been so mad at Jack she wanted to do something to prove she was the better choice for Ringmaster. She’d done it properly, though, tailing Kara for a couple of days before sneaking inside the house.

  Kara’s room was covered in pink frills, with posters of hot, young teen actors and pop groups far too juvenile for a twenty-three-year-old woman. Kara was still sleeping in the room, but Rilla could see it hadn’t changed in years.

  Since the car accident, she was willing to bet.

  It was obviously the family home they’d been living in at the time. The bedrooms upstairs were still set up as if the whole family were living there. It was like walking around a set for a fake television family, or perhaps more accurately a shrine, where objects had become more valuable for their association to family members than their actual use.

  In the main bedroom, it seemed as if her parents might walk in at any moment. Clothes were flung across a chair and a lipstick was lying on the set of drawers next to the mirror. In her brother’s room, toys were out and the bed was unmade.

  There was a hollowed-out feeling in the pit of Rilla’s stomach as she walked from room to room. She was glad she’d come here. It confirmed her belief that they’d need to do more than provide Kara with a flashy new leg.

  It was as if their Mark was trying to pretend the accident hadn’t happened. Rilla picked up a family photo by the bed in Kara’s room. The four of them seemed happy, laughing into the camera lens. She wondered how soon after the photo was taken that Kara’s world had come undone. She couldn’t imagine how much it must have hurt to lose them all so suddenly. The worst thing was that Kara blamed herself. How were they going to be able to help her in such a short time? It didn’t seem possible. There were so many gaping holes to fill.

  A door opened downstairs and Rilla froze. She looked at her watch and silently cursed. Kara was home from her yoga class. Rilla had taken too long climbing that damned drainpipe.

  As Rilla took a couple of cautious steps toward the door, music drifted up the stairs. Kara was opening and shutting cupboards and singing off-key to a song on the radio.

  Rilla let out a breath. She would be able to get out of here pretty easily with all that noise. She just had to sneak back out the way she’d come.

  Keeping one eye on the door, she placed the photo frame on the bedside table. But instead of settling securely into place, the frame fell onto its side, tipping off the table and onto a small jewelry box sitting next to Kara’s bed.

  Rilla leaped forward to grab the frame, but she was too late. Glass shattered, tumbling noisily onto the wooden floorboards.

  Downstairs, the radio went off. Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

  “Who’s up there?”

  Rilla swore.

  “I know you’re up there. Come out with your hands up. I have a gun.” Kara’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

  A gun? What the hell?

  “I’m going to start shooting if you don’t come down. I was taught to aim by a deputy sheriff, so I’ll be able to hit at least somewhere on your body.” Kara’s voice held steel, and Rilla thought she might actually do it.

  In the couple of days since she’d been following her around, Kara had shown she was reckless and wild. She drove her car too fast, pushed herself to her limits when she ran, and had even tried to hit a raccoon that had emptied her garbage bins with a baseball bat. She often acted like she was trying to get herself killed.

  Kara would definitely shoot first and ask questions later.

  “Okay, okay. Don’t shoot. I’m not armed.” Rilla made her voice girly and unthreatening. She walked into the light of the hallway, trying not to provide too big a target.

  “Put your hands up.”

  “Really? That’s a little—”

  “Just do it!” Kara’s voice shook, but her hands were steady on the handgun she had aimed up the stairs.

  Rilla put up her hands, trying to look young and innocent while dressed in burglar black. She swallowed hard as she properly caught sight of the barrel of the gun for the first time. This was very real.

  “Who are you?”

  Rilla cleared her throat, trying to think of the best answer. Her brain froze. How on Earth could she explain this one? “Um… I’m from the Carnival.”

  “You’re stealing from houses in town?”

  Rilla started. “No! God, no. Just from you.”

  “You’re stealing from me?” Kara’s voice rose an octave, and she leveled the gun at Rilla’s heart with surprising accuracy.

  Rilla held her hands out in front of her. “Wait! No, not stealing. Doing recon
.” The words just blurted out of her mouth.

  “Recon? Before you steal from me?”

  “I’m not going to steal from you.” At least that was true.

  “Well, whatever you’re doing, you can explain it at the sheriff’s office. They’ll be here any minute. Come down the stairs and keep your hands in the air.” Kara had her legs apart and the barrel of the gun aimed squarely at Rilla’s chest. It was true she’d been trained by someone who knew how to shoot.

  As she descended the stairs, Rilla studied Kara closely. She was still wearing loose clothing from her yoga class and her hair was up in a ponytail. She was reasonably calm, considering she thought she’d found a burglar in her house. But Kara was also watching her like a hawk, and there was something twitchy about her eyes that said she wasn’t as steady as she seemed.

  The interesting thing was if Rilla hadn’t known about the prosthetic leg, it wouldn’t have been obvious. Kara seemed able to get around on it pretty comfortably.

  She reached the ground step and stopped. “I’m not dangerous, Kara. I promise. You just came to the Carnival the other day, and I was curious about you. I noticed your leg.” Rilla gestured to Kara with her head but kept her hands high in the air.

  “You’re lying.” Kara’s voice was unsteady.

  Something clicked in Rilla’s head. Kara tried to hide her prosthetic leg from the world because it was the one reminder of the accident she couldn’t ignore. In fact, Rilla would bet no one else knew about Kara’s feelings of guilt and pain.

  “I did. You had your cane,” she reminded Kara. “It’s my job to notice things like that about people.” Well, Joey had noticed it while she performed in the ring.

  “So you can go to their houses and steal things from them?” Kara blew a clump of hair out of the corner of her eye and peered at the front door. A moment later, a car pulled up outside.

  A knock hammered at the door. “Sheriff’s office!” a deep male voice called urgently.