The Magic Carnival Box Set: Books 1-3

by Trudi Jaye

  She took it without thinking. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting my boy’s power back for him.”

  “What?” Maddy leaned over and helped pull him onto the tiny platform.

  “Using the same magic I learned all those years ago. It’s against the Carnival’s rules, so like as not, I’ll be forgetting myself again. You tell that boy of mine that I’m proud of him, all right?”

  Maddy’s eyes widened. “What makes you think you’ll forget again?”

  “I’ve figured it out. This is why the Carnival brought me back. Aside from me ‘n Abba, no one else knows how to work with this kind of power. I figure as soon as it’s done, the Carnival will put me back under. But Garth needs me.” He was resolute despite the sadness lurking in his eyes.

  Maddy put one hand on Milton’s arm. “You don’t have to do it. We’ll find a way without you sacrificing yourself.” She knew how upset he’d been when he’d realized what happened the last time.

  Milton shrugged. “He’s my boy. I can’t leave him like this, knowing I can save him.” He glanced down at the fire extinguisher in Maddy’s hands. “Once I’m off here, you take that up to the roof and put it on every bit of flame you can see. That’s just as important as what I’m doing.” Milton turned to the ladder, then turned back. “Oh, I better not forget this,” he said, and before Maddy knew what he was doing, he whipped a small curved knife along her arm, cutting into her flesh and then wiping the blade in the blood that gushed forth.

  “Ow!” she yelped, gasping as the stinging pain of yet another cut made itself known. “What was that for?” She scowled up at him, anger at being attacked again making her forget about their situation for a moment.

  “I’m sorry, my dear.” Milton handed her a handkerchief, and without another word, he climbed up and over the platform, the dripping knife in one hand and using the poles in a manner that was only slightly less agile than Lucietta.

  Maddy glanced over at Garth fighting with Hugo, and the pain disappeared into the background. She grasped the fire extinguisher more tightly in her hands. He was right; she had to help. There was no one else. She put the sling over one shoulder and took a breath. This high up, she didn’t want to look down, so she concentrated on where she had to go. Milton would take care of the fire on the ropes. She had to get higher, to the top of the tent where the flames were slowly licking at the very topmost pole and the canvas around it. She didn’t know how much time they had, but it wouldn’t be much.

  Hand over hand she climbed, breathing in and out slowly like Garth had taught her. He was right; it did close out the world around you when you needed it to.

  She stopped as close as she dared to the flames and, holding on with one hand, pointed the fire extinguisher at the flames. Pressing the lever hard, she felt the heavy thrust as the foam spurted out and almost lost her grip.

  Clinging on for her life, she sprayed the flame-retardant foam over the seething fire, relieved to see it was choking the flames wherever it touched. She inched along the beams, trying to keep from shivering too much in reaction to what she was doing.

  She glanced down at the tiny audience below her, and suddenly, everything was blurry. Her grip on the fire extinguisher loosened and it started to slip through her fingers.

  It was only a familiar grunt of pain below her that made her tighten her hold. If Garth could fight Hugo in a one-on-one battle on a burning rope, she could do this.

  She crawled along and aimed the fire extinguisher at the next block of flames, concentrating solely on what she was doing.

  No distractions, no mistakes. That was her motto and she was determined to follow it.

  ***

  Garth was battered and bruised, and it was only an inbred tenacity that kept him holding on under the fire of Hugo’s defense, both physical and magical. Burns were appearing on his body from some magical source, and Hugo had managed to get one or two good kicks into his side.

  But he was determined to keep them both hanging there until the rope burned through and they fell to their deaths. In that context, a little pain didn’t matter.

  “Son, hold on. I’m coming.”

  At first he couldn’t make sense of where the voice was coming from. Then he looked up and saw his father, stripped of his Ringmaster jacket and top hat, holding a fire extinguisher. He sprayed the ropes, and the flames immediately went out, courtesy of Henry’s amped-up foam.

  “No, Dad! Leave it. This is the best way.”

  But his father ignored him and started to winch the two of them up, using another of Henry’s inventions, a small mobile contraption that could drag up weights far in excess of what a person should normally be able to pull.

  Hugo stopped struggling and looked up at Milton, his face a mask of anger. “You’ve destroyed my performance. You’re not going to survive the night, none of you. I’m going to burn you all to the ground!” His face was flushed red, and his blood-colored eyes burned like the fires over their heads.

  Garth could only hold on in silence, hoping he had Hugo’s hands in a good enough lock that the magician couldn’t find the deadly knife he favored.

  Milton continued to pull them both closer to the beam and then stopped to wind the rope around the crossbeam in a steady knot. “I need to be able to touch Hugo. But that’s close enough I think.” He pulled out a small knife—almost identical to Hugo’s—with a wicked curved blade that was covered in fresh blood. Before either of them realized what he was about, he flicked the knife in Hugo’s direction and slashed a cut along his arm. He rubbed the blade of the knife in the blood that formed along the cut and then quickly turned to Garth, who was subjected to the same stinging cut and a rough wipe along his skin. Then Milton cut himself, and wiped the bloodied knife over his arm. As his blood mixed with Hugo’s for the second time that day, Garth’s body shuddered.

  Through hazy eyes, he saw Milton pull out a box of matches and carefully light one. His father held the small flame under the knife with their mixed blood and closed his eyes, muttering under his breath. As their blood burned together on the blade, multiple shudders reverberated through Garth’s body, stronger this time.

  Hugo screamed, kicking out at Garth, his whole body rejecting the process going on over their heads. Garth’s fingers slipped and he desperately tried to cling to the rope. His mind went blurry for a moment, and he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. His hands began to slip.

  And then, just as suddenly, his powers came surging back to him, soaking into his skin like an old friend. His eyes filled and the inky blackness descended for a moment before he blinked and saw the world through his bright and beautiful Giftmaster lens.

  His hands tightened on the rope, and he felt strong and more focused. He knew exactly what he had to do.

  ***

  Maddy clung with one arm around a metal pole and pressed the lever on the fire extinguisher. Her body quivered, exhausted from her climb up in the heavens of the tent. She swallowed, trying to get some moisture into her parched throat.

  Something bumped into her, and turning, she saw Simon’s grim face just below her in the rigging. “What are you doing here, Simon? How did you get out of the van?” Her heart leapt into her mouth as she looked past him to the icy floor far below them.

  He ignored her and kept climbing, the cast on his leg making him slow and awkward. His face was pale, and dark circles under his eyes made them seem larger than usual. He was one determined kid. It took her breath away when she thought about what could happen to him if he fell, so she concentrated on helping him climb up next to her.

  “You shouldn’t be up here, Simon.”

  “This is all my fault. I’m not letting my dad hurt you and Garth just because I was too stupid to realize what he’s really like.” Simon’s voice was wobbly, but his expression was resolute.

  Maddy grabbed him into a tight hug. “It’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for your dad’s actions, Simon.” If there were any way she could
have spared him the pain his father was causing him, she would have done it.

  “I’m helping, so don’t bother arguing.” His chin was set.

  Maddy paused, but she didn’t have time to fight him. “Okay, then you can help me with putting out the fires,” she said.

  She handed him the fire extinguisher and set him to work on the fire just over their heads.

  Glancing down to see what was happening with the others, she saw Missy and Lucietta locked together in an ungainly wrestling match, precariously balanced between two bars. Just when it seemed Missy had the upper hand, Lucietta kneed her with a quick jerk from one leg, and they were back to wrestling and grappling, each trying to get a hold that would give them an advantage. It was a close fight, and they were so high up. Lucietta could win so easily—all it would take was one slip from Missy, and she would fall to her death below. Maddy needed to help make sure Missy beat Lucietta.

  She looked back up to where a small patch of fire still burned on the roof, trying to decide what was more important. If that fire spread, it wouldn’t just be a problem for the Carnival—it could potentially harm every single person in the big top. She gave one quick glance back to where Missy and Lucietta were struggling and then stood up.

  “Simon, you wait here a moment. I’m going up higher,” she said.

  He didn’t argue, just passed the fire extinguisher back to her, and she hefted it under one arm. Ducking her head under a bar, she stretched up to grab at the beam above her head. Balancing out over a gap, she leaped across and landed neatly on a bar a little closer to her goal.

  Climbing slowly, she made it to the last section of burning canvas. Holding up the extinguisher, she pushed out a burst to coat the fire. It put out the flames so fast it seemed magical. But out of all the things that were actually magical around here, this one she knew to be scientific. It made her feel calm, to cling to something real and solid.

  The flames below had been put out. Milton was standing near where Hugo and Garth dangled from a single rope. She hoped the rope could hold them both or that Milton had some kind of plan to save Garth. She couldn’t quite see what he was doing through the smoke and rigging that was between them.

  But she’d achieved her mission, and it felt good to have been useful. All she had to do now was crawl back to Simon. Getting her bearings, she glanced over to where she’d left him, only to realize he wasn’t there. Panicked, Maddy frantically searched the ground and rigging below but couldn’t see his flat, bloodied, and broken body on the ice.

  Finally, she saw him edging closer to Milton on the beam. That’s why he hadn’t argued with her about the fire extinguisher. He was trying to help Garth. She crawled to one side, along the narrow rigging, and began climbing down.

  Far below, the audience muttered anxiously. She was surprised they were all still there, watching the antics above their heads. They couldn’t possibly still think this was all part of the show, could they?

  A heavy bump against the pole she was leaning on jarred her out of her thoughts. To one side, Missy and Lucietta were still fighting close and dirty. Missy looked tired, and Lucietta seemed to be using every trick in the book to get the upper hand.

  A moment’s debate in her head, she turned to crawl along the bar in the other direction, slowly edging closer to where the two women were now dancing back and forth around each other.

  Maddy balanced above them, wobbling slightly. Pressing down on the lever of the fire extinguisher, she aimed the foam at Lucietta’s head. It shot out at speed and coated the older woman’s head. Lucietta wiped desperately at the thick foam now clinging to her face and shoulders.

  Missy took advantage of the distraction, and swept one foot low and wide, knocking the other woman’s feet out from under her.

  Lucietta screamed as she fell, and there was a communal gasp from the audience. It settled into a relieved sigh as she grabbed a bar at the last minute, hooking her elbows and hands over. She clung to the pole, unable to see through the foam coating her face and swearing at Missy.

  Climbing down, Maddy stopped beside Missy. “You okay?”

  Missy nodded. “Thanks,” she said, not taking her eyes off Lucietta. “I can keep her in line from here.”

  Taking it slowly, Maddy climbed farther down, shaking from the effort. Her focus was now on Simon, and it didn’t take long before she stopped next to him, on the same section as the others. Milton was leaning down, trying to pull his son up from the rope. Hugo was kicking and grappling with Garth, making it impossible.

  “Pull me up first,” yelled Hugo frantically, huffing out his breath as he struggled with Garth.

  “Just let us drop,” said Garth, his voice muffled as he struggled with Hugo. “Hugo isn’t going to go away. It’s the best way.” He looked directly up at Milton, then at Maddy. His dark eyes seemed to pull her in, and she couldn’t look away. A beat of power echoed somewhere deep inside her, and she remembered the bond that linked them again. Don’t die. Please don’t die.

  “Son, you don’t need to die like this.” Milton didn’t take his eyes off Garth. He held his hand down toward Hugo. “Hugo can’t hurt us now.”

  Hugo grabbed his hand. “About time, old man.” He pulled himself upward, using Milton as a lever.

  Maddy grabbed Milton on one side, and Simon held on to his other side, making sure he didn’t slip any farther along the narrow beam that was holding them all. Hugo slowly made his way up, climbing up and over with a strength that was surprising. As he scrambled up and onto the beam, Hugo’s eyes lifted and landed on Simon. His expression hardened and he glanced away as if his son were invisible.

  With a movement so quick Maddy almost missed it, Hugo pulled out his knife and shoved it toward Simon, emitting an animal-like screech. Milton thrust Simon behind him, putting his own body in Hugo’s way. The wickedly sharp blade sank into Milton’s side, right to the hilt. Simon stumbled back into Maddy’s arms, his body shaking from his near miss.

  Milton looked down in surprise. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said as a red stain appeared on his shirt around the knife.

  Maddy clung to Simon as the young boy tried to lunge toward Milton and his father. “Stay back, Simon. You need to stay out of the way.” She cautiously watched Hugo where he stood white-faced in front of Milton.

  “That wasn’t meant for you,” whispered Hugo, his hand still on the hilt of his knife plunged deep into Milton’s flesh.

  “Dad!” Garth yelled from below as he frantically pulled himself up the rope to help his father. He was too far down to be able to do anything, and his distress was palpable. Maddy leaned forward as if she could help him, but Simon whimpered from where he lay in her arms, and she sat back, whispering soothing noises in his ear.

  A sizzle of noise caught her attention, and she looked back to Milton and Hugo. Red beads of electricity crackled along the protruding knife, seeming to come from inside Milton and traveling at speed toward Hugo. In the first moment it touched Hugo’s hand, he screamed like he’d been burned and tried to pull back—but his fingers were stuck like glue to the knife. The blood-red lightning streaked up his arm and settled over his heart. A ball of glowing red light hovered for a moment and then seemed to suck itself into his chest.

  Hugo screamed again, his eyes closed and his face contorted in torment. The light left his chest and sped back along Hugo’s body and into Milton’s knife wound. The knife eased out, and the red lightning entered Milton’s body to replace it.

  Garth finally clambered onto the beam right behind Milton. “Dad? Dad, are you okay?” he said, reaching out to examine the gash.

  Milton had one hand over the knife wound and took a shallow breath. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. Probably looks worse than it is.” He glanced to where Hugo was kneeling at his feet, a silent scream tearing at his expression. “Hugo made a mistake. He connected himself to the Giftmasters and the Carnival through his twice-mixed blood. He can’t kill me, at least not so soon after I held his blood on m
y knife.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” whispered Simon.

  Hugo’s eyes bulged, and he tried to scratch at a wound that didn’t exist on his chest.

  “Don’t concern yourself, Simon,” said Milton. “He doesn’t deserve your care. It was you he was aiming at with that knife, no two ways about it.”

  “But how…?” said Garth, his face pale.

  “I still had protection from the mixed-blood oath over me. To wound me is to wound himself,” said Milton with a humorless smile. “And unless I’m wrong about everything, he’s going to start losing his memory, just like I did.”

  Maddy felt Simon’s indrawn breath, and then he went limp in her arms.

  ***

  Below among the audience, there was an unnatural silence as every pair of eyes in the tent watched whatever was coming next.

  Garth took a breath, trying to think. It was surely too late to make this seem like it was part of the act. Who would believe it?

  And then he heard a gasp from below. First one, then another, and then the whole audience was talking and pointing. Below them, Missy was walking the high wire, holding an unconscious Lucietta, her limp body dangling over each arm. She was walking slowly over the broken net, every part of her a study in concentration. His heart in his mouth, Garth watched as she took each measured step. Finally, she reached the platform on the other side of the high wire and laid Lucietta down.

  “We’ll have to do something equally gasp-inducing, son, for the audience to buy it,” Milton whispered to Garth.

  He nodded. His father was right. Next to him, Maddy sniffed. Her body shook, and she was covered in spots of the flame-retardant foam, but she didn’t say a word. She just tightened her grip on Simon, who was only just opening his eyes again.

  Garth put a hand on her arm, trying to give her comfort. “We’re going to have to go down the ropes,” he said as softly as he could. “As many of us as possible.” He glanced over at Hugo, who was now lying on the beam, holding his side, a cold sweat over his face.