by Sarah Noffke
“That’s how you knew how to get to jobs?” she asked. “By descriptions?”
“Mostly. We were often escorted by a supervisor,” he said, his voice clipped. The smile he’d started the conversation with was lost now and didn’t look likely to return.
She considered what she wanted to say next. The girl didn’t want to feel that mortified feeling again, but she also wanted information. Information that only Finley could give her. “Tell me about Knight,” Zuma said, curling her feet to the side, grateful not to be driving, but unwilling to say it.
“No,” he said simply.
Zuma narrowed her eyes at him. “Damn it, Finley! Why do you have to be like this?”
His expression didn’t budge. His reaction, or rather lack of reaction, when cursed and yelled at made her boil inside. People were supposed to react. Everyone always did to Zuma, usually giving her what she wanted. She considered him for a moment and then swallowed, deciding not to be deterred. “Did Knight teach you how to do parkour?”
“Yes,” he said after a long beat.
He’d answered another question. That was something at least.
“He must have a very strange teaching method,” she said, almost musing to herself. She knew how to play this game and was going to win this, she thought.
Finley shot Zuma a look. Raised an eyebrow at her. “Why do you say that?”
She glanced out her window with a casual shrug.
From the corner of her eyes she spied his fingers tighten a degree on the steering wheel.
“This isn’t going to work, Zuma, so stop,” Finley said, his voice matching his look of frustration.
“Oh, come on, Finley,” Zuma said, turning in her seat to face him. “Knight killed a man I loved like a father. I’m ashamed to admit that I probably cared more for Dave than my own father. Please tell me something about Knight. I need to know.”
Silence. And then she watched the micro-expressions on his face that indicated he was torn. His Adam’s apple hesitated as he tried to swallow.
“Fine,” Finley said, his voice defeated, his focus firmly fixed on the road. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me how he trains his kids?” she asked, holding in the shock that he was even entertaining her questions.
Finley nodded. Swallowed. He wasn’t comfortable answering this question, but it was one of the easier ones if he was being pressured under what felt like Zuma’s unique breed of interrogation. He sighed out his resignation. “Knight doesn’t believe there’s multiple ways of doing things. Only one. His,” he began. “He trains his kids to always be observing. Taking in every single detail available. He goes to incredible lengths to teach us to become aware of what most people ignore in their environments. And he does the same thing when teaching his kids how to move. There’s an exactness to every action and we must always move in that way. Nothing done haphazardly. No movement without purpose. We are to move using precision in everything. We are to deliberate on every act. So you see, in one way, he keeps us dumb by sheltering us, while also teaching us to be incredibly critical thinkers. He takes great pride in our skills and in training us. In that way he is very similar to Dave,” Finley said and then his words abruptly ended.
All of that made perfect sense to Zuma. It explained so much about Finley and how he operated. He’d been trained like a soldier since before he could walk. That’s how it appeared to her anyway. “Tell me more,” she said, turning more to focus on him, her knees bent and her feet slightly under her.
The reluctance was heavy in his expression.
“Please, Finley. Tell me what you know about Dave and Knight’s past. Titus said he was his first employee and you seemed to already know that.”
“Zuma, knowing their past may not help you with the grieving process like you think. It may be too much to process at once,” Finley said.
“So that means you do know?” she said.
He nodded.
“Tell me,” she said. “Please.”
He blinked several times, each one an effort to clear his mind by clearing his vision. Finally, he loosened a breath and said, “Knight is Dave’s brother.”
“What!?” Zuma’s voice bounced off the walls of the car.
As Finley expected, this information was probably going to make Zuma sadder, more remorseful for Dave and all he’d been through. However, Finley had to admit to himself that he didn’t own this history. And sharing Dave’s past would maybe free Finley from sharing more about himself.
“It’s true. They were brothers,” Finley said, and hated the look of shocked sadness that sprang to Zuma’s face.
“I thought Knight was a drifter Dave found,” Zuma said.
“Rescued,” Finley corrected. “It was Dave’s homeless brother who gave him the idea to start the circus actually.”
How did I not know this? Zuma wondered. “His own brother is responsible for killing him?” she said in an astonished whisper.
Finley nodded. It didn’t seem like such a strange idea to him but he had no family.
“Keep going,” she said.
Finley wavered with reluctance. He didn’t want to cause her more troubled thoughts. He wanted to tell her things to ease her pain. To use his arms to erase her suffering. But that was more than unlikely to happen. He opened his mouth then shut it again, not sure what was right to do in this scenario. Give her truth or an opportunity at peace?
“Don’t make me remind you that you owe me this information,” she said, sensing his hesitation.
He wanted to smile but he didn’t. “You just did.”
“Finley,” she said, her voice sharp.
He had to admit one of the reasons he was stalling was because he enjoyed every time she said his name with that edge. And in truth he just liked when she said his name. Finley cleared his throat. “Knight is actually Dave’s half-brother to be accurate.”
“That’s why they have different last names?” Zuma said.
He nodded. “And Knight had a drug problem. This was several decades ago.”
“Which is why he was on the streets?” Zuma said, piecing all the information together.
Another nod. “Dave rescued Knight when he was at his lowest. He cleaned him up, trained him, and made him the first performer for Vagabond Circus. From there the circus grew.”
“Do you know all this from spying during dream travel?” Zuma asked, curious how he was privy to information she should have known already.
“And time traveling a little bit and from Fanny,” Finley said.
“She knows?” Zuma asked, not expecting this part.
Another nod.
“And she told you?” Zuma said.
“She answered some questions when I asked. Fanny has been with Vagabond Circus since the beginning. Third recruit,” Finley said, trying to keep his answers honest.
Fanny was the third person recruited to Vagabond Circus? Zuma hadn’t known this either and it was a history she thought should have been engrained in her, like her family tree.
“Like what kind of questions did Fanny answer?” she asked.
Finley looked at her, a heavy hesitation in his eyes. “Like why Knight would curse the circus when he left it.”
“What?” Zuma said. Her pulse thumped in her wrist. “He cursed the circus? Why?”
Finley let out a strained breath. “Did you know Dave was married?”
“What? No,” Zuma said, almost angry that there were so many parts of Dave’s life she was ignorant of.
“Well, he was,” Finley said. “He’d been married for quite a few years before he started the circus. Cynthia, his wife, didn’t love the idea of him starting Vagabond Circus. Apparently she resented him for it, but he didn’t know that. He’d been running the circus for a year and it was struggling, but he wouldn’t give it up. Anyway, Cynthia became pregnant and she demanded that they quit the circus. Abandon it completely. Dave wouldn’t do it though. He wanted the child to grow up there in the circus life. And he
wouldn’t give up on Vagabond Circus.”
“That sounds like Dave,” Zuma said, a warm pride taking residence in her chest.
Finley nodded.
“But what happened to Cynthia and Dave’s child? What happened to Cynthia?” Zuma asked, and realized the answer wasn’t going to be good.
Finley’s expression confirmed her assumption.
“Well, just before Cynthia gave birth, Knight went to Dave and told him he was in love with his wife.”
“No!” Zuma said, her eyes wide.
Finley nodded. “Knight told his brother that he was tired of Dave not listening to Cynthia. He told Dave that if he wasn’t going to quit Vagabond Circus as she wanted, then Knight was going to steal her away. Apparently Knight loved Vagabond Circus too but loved Cynthia more and he was tired of watching her suffer.”
“What?! What did Dave do?” Zuma asked, her pulse still racing.
Finley shrugged. “Dave forgave his brother. But he told Knight he had to leave Vagabond Circus and that he could never return.”
“And Knight did?” Zuma asked.
“Yes,” Finley said, his throat going dry from the words he knew he’d have to say soon. “But Knight returned on the night Dave and Cynthia’s child was born. No one saw him but Fanny, who had stepped out of the nursery to check on Cynthia. Fanny apparently saw Knight just as he stepped out of Fanny’s trailer, where the newborn was being kept so that its cries wouldn’t disrupt Cynthia from her rest. Fanny rushed straight into her trailer to find Knight had smothered the child.”
“What? He killed Dave’s child?” Zuma said, her voice suddenly trembling from the ache that had erupted in her heart.
Finley held up a finger to pause Zuma. “Knight then went straight to Cynthia’s trailer and told her that he’d freed her of her obligation to Dave and Vagabond Circus, and they could be together now. See, he thought that the pregnancy was what was keeping her there but it wasn’t. She was actually in love with Dave. But also with Knight. And that’s when she told him he’d killed his own child.”
“What, the child wasn’t Dave’s?” Zuma said, horrified by all these details and also shocked that Finley was sharing so much with her.
“No, the child was Knight’s,” Finley said, seeing the memory clearly since he’d dream traveled back to watch some of these events. “Enraged by this news, Knight then went on a rampage and began destroying the circus. Most of the employees fled. Dave confronted his brother. Tried to stop him. But Dave had no idea about the child at that point. He didn’t know that the baby wasn’t his and that he was dead. The brothers fought and Knight tore Dave up badly. If it wasn’t for Titus intervening then Dave would have been dead.”
“Oh, my god,” Zuma said, her hand over her mouth.
“Fanny was called to treat Dave’s wounds and when she arrived she had blood on her hands,” Finley said, his voice slow and deliberate now. He was just trying to tell a story, although it felt too personal to him. “Cynthia had slit her wrists, and the right way. She was dead. Knight, who was being restrained by some employees, broke away and apparently vowed to one day destroy the circus.”
“That was the curse he put on Vagabond Circus?” Zuma asked, overwhelmed by all of this information.
Finley shook his head roughly.
“Oh, well what was it? What was the curse?” she asked.
Finley knew he couldn’t lie to Zuma but he also couldn’t tell her Knight cursed any child who was born at Vagabond Circus. He couldn’t be the one to tell Zuma she was cursed never to be happy, so he just said, “You don’t want to know.”
“Finley,” she said, that warning back in her voice. “Tell me. What’s the curse?”
“I’ve given you enough information. No more,” he said.
She twisted around in her seat. “You’re being serious?! You’re not going to tell me?”
He didn’t respond, just sat still.
She slapped the console between them but this produced no response from Finley. “Tell me!”
“No, Zuma. It doesn’t matter,” he said, his lips hardly moving. Now he was berating himself for how he’d divulged this history. Finley should have known the subject of the curse would arise and Zuma would want to know about it. He’d been sloppy and now he was going to give Zuma more reasons to hate him.
“I want to know!” she said, her voice coated with vehemence.
“Then find someone else to tell you,” he said.
She didn’t think she could be any madder in that moment. Finley had told her so much. Filled her in on a piece of history she felt she always should have known. He’d opened up—yes, with information about other people, but he had opened up. And then he shut down right at the end, daring to hold onto one piece of the history. She didn’t want to have an incomplete understanding of what happened. And she didn’t like that Finley could so easily withhold from her.
“Why won’t you tell me what the curse was about?” she said, her voice suddenly calmer, restrained.
“Because I’m an asshole, Zuma, that’s why,” Finley said.
She pressed back in her seat, suppressing the urge to argue with him further. This was just another reason not to trust him.
Chapter Eighteen
“Murdered?!” The word sounded wrong spilling out of Fanny’s mouth. “Dave was murdered?” she repeated a dozen times.
Again Titus nodded.
She’d seen the dead ringmaster’s body with her own eyes and examined him using gloves. He appeared to have died from cardiac arrest. The forensics team confirmed this assumption, but Titus told her a different story.
Now, Fanny stood beside Dave’s empty trailer, his body having been sent to the cremation facility. The stars were starting to wink in the Oregon sky and Fanny knew soon she’d have to release Sunshine from supervising the little kids. But not yet. The healer’s entire being was rocked with shock and she wasn’t in a position where she could care for another.
“What are you going to tell the circus?” she asked Titus.
“I think the less the better. If I tell them he was murdered then they will be unsettled,” Titus said, hoping the cowardly emotions he felt weren’t showing on his face.
“But you said Jack went to avenge his murder,” Fanny said, her southern accent stronger due to her emotions.
“And you know Knight,” Titus said, giving Fanny a knowing look. “And therefore you know that Jack is doomed.”
“Finley and Zuma will get to him though,” Fanny said, trying to sound hopeful.
Titus blew out a long breath and ran his hand through his graying blond hair. “Yeah…” he said, his voice half defeated.
Fanny shook her head silently, new wrinkles marking her smooth cheeks.
“What?” Titus asked, staring across the space at the woman. He hadn’t seen that look of grief on her face in almost twenty years.
“How didn’t I know about Sebastian?” she said, her voice sounding as troubled as her eyes looked. “I had that child under my care for four months. I never once suspected he was one of Knight’s Kids.”
“That’s only because all your kids come to you troubled,” Titus said. “Of course you wouldn’t question his hostile eyes or cold demeanor.”
“I just thought he’d been abused and that’s why he refused to be touched,” Fanny said, her gaze distant. “I kept waiting until he was acclimated to really try and get close to him but if I had tried sooner then I might have seen this.”
“Don’t do that to yourself,” Titus said, his voice firm. “There’s no way you could have known.”
“But there was,” Fanny said to his surprise. “I can see so much in my kids when I try. When they allow me.”
“But there’s no way you would have connected him to Knight.”
“But I connected Finley to Knight,” she said.
Titus’s head flipped up at once. “What?”
Fanny shrugged her large shoulders. “I did. We spoke about it freely one night. Finley and I.”<
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“But you never said anything,” Titus said, his voice suddenly hurt.
“No, I didn’t,” Fanny said, unashamed. “I knew that Finley posed no threat. Actually the opposite. I knew he was here to help. And I knew he was protective of the circus. I didn’t know what you’ve told me, that he was trying to protect Dave, but that makes sense. I just knew he wanted to be free of Knight and that he’d found Vagabond Circus. I thought the irony was uncanny but I didn’t suspect it to have these implications.”
Titus scratched his head, confused. “But how did you know that Finley was one of Knight’s Kids.”
“Hmmm…” she said, musing on the question. “It’s hard to explain. It was an inkling. A hunch. You know I’m good at reading energy because of my ability to heal. I sensed the abuse in Finley, something akin to how Knight treated people when he was here at Vagabond Circus years ago. So I asked Finley one night when tutoring him and he confirmed it.”
A look of awe marked Titus’s features. “It’s remarkable that you pieced that together.”
Fanny nodded, keeping her eyes off Titus. What she couldn’t tell him was it was more than a hunch. She’d recognized Finley for more reasons than that. Fanny sensed his connection to Knight. It had at first been a guess based on her observations of several things. And then after speaking with Finley that one night she pieced it all together. She, and probably only she, knew who Finley truly was. But from the first moment she recognized him she knew two things: one, that she had to guard her knowledge, and two, that a strange cosmic force was operating between Knight and Vagabond Circus, as it always had.
Chapter Nineteen
Jack stood just out of reach of the light of the lamppost, the samurai sword strapped across his back. Finley’s directions, although lacking street names, were easy to follow, and now Jack stood staring at the graffiti-covered warehouse. His father owned a dozen or so warehouses like this in the industrial district. Jack had spent a lot of time running around them as a child. That experience gave him a thorough knowledge of the construction of these buildings. For instance, he knew the perfect way for an intruder to enter them. He’d done it a hundred times using his levitation skill.
