by Diane Zahler
“She’s your mom,” Selena pointed out. “She has to be right sometimes.”
They sat quietly for a minute. The wind gusted under the wagon, and Mattie shivered in her wet clothes.
“I want it back!” she cried suddenly. “I want it back!”
Selena nodded, as if she’d expected Mattie to say that. “Then we should figure out how to get it back.”
“The Bellamys are trying to figure out how,” Mattie said wearily. “But they don’t have any real ideas—except for telling the others about Master Morogh.”
“Wait, the Bellamys know?”
“They know everything. Da told them.”
“Wow,” Selena said. “And if they tell the others, everyone will know. Your mom can’t be too happy about that.”
Mattie had to laugh. “Not too happy, no.”
Their voices—or maybe the storm—had disturbed the cats. Mattie could hear them moving in the wagon above. Their big paws padded softly back and forth, back and forth. The sound made her almost remember something, and she thought really hard.
“I saw things,” she said, almost to herself.
“What do you mean?”
“When I touched Master Morogh. I saw things. I read him, for just a few seconds before he took it away.”
The lightning flashed above, revealing Selena’s wide eyes. “What did you see?” Her voice was hushed.
“I’m trying to remember. There was so much, and it went so fast! It was almost like his whole life, like a movie on fast-forward. There was a baby, crying and crying. Do you think it was his baby?”
“I’m sure he doesn’t have a baby,” Selena said. “Maybe it was him when he was little.”
“And then later a boy who was really dirty. Playing in the dirt, by himself. He had a bloody nose. And there was a feeling—he was different.”
“Different?”
“I think he was the only who didn’t have a talent. Usually it runs in families, like mine, but he wasn’t like the others. People were making fun of him.”
Selena was quiet.
“He told me he was different, remember? I think his difference was being normal,” Mattie said. “Maybe his people really were innkeepers, like he said, but still Travellers with talents. And he had nothing. Maybe the other Traveller kids teased him and beat him up—until he found out he could steal talents.”
“What else did you see?”
“There were some weird places. Some traveling fairs, in Scotland maybe. A boat. A jungle-y place. And … oh, God.”
“What? Tell me!”
“The tigers. In the jungle. Hasha …” Mattie stopped. Oh, it was horrible.
“What? What happened?” In her excitement, Selena forgot where they were and tried to sit up, whacking her head on the underside of the wagon. “Ouch!”
“It was Hasha. She did it. She bit off his fingers.” Mattie closed her eyes, but the image was still there.
“Oh, gross!” Selena cried. “Why did she do it?”
“I couldn’t see that part … or maybe I don’t remember it. I don’t know,” Mattie said.
“I know why she did it.” The voice came from outside their little space under the wagon. They froze.
Ahmad bent to peer at them. His turban sagged, wilting from the rain. “Come out and get dry,” he said. “Come on, both of you. It is not safe to be out in this storm.”
Selena and Mattie looked at each other. Somehow, after the tigers’ escape, Ahmad didn’t seem as scary to Mattie as he had before. They crawled out and meekly followed him to his wagon next door.
Inside, it was warm and dry. There was a thin gold-colored rug on the floor, and just a few pieces of wooden furniture. The girls stood and dripped while Ahmad rummaged through a wooden trunk carved with vines and flowers, then pulled out two T-shirts and two pairs of sweatpants. Mattie was kind of surprised that he would have such ordinary-looking clothes. “Here, change,” he said, and ducked back out into the rain so they’d have privacy.
Quickly they shucked off their sopping clothes and pulled on the shirts and pants he’d given them, rolling up the sleeves and legs. They left their soaked things in a little pile by the door.
Mattie opened the door. “Okay,” she said to Ahmad. He came back in. He wasn’t too wet; maybe the rain was letting up a little.
“Sit,” he said, motioning to two wooden chairs. They were shaped like wide v’s, with beautifully carved slats. Nice to look at, not so comfortable. But they sat, leaning back, and Ahmad sat on a third, straight-backed chair. He unwrapped his dripping turban and draped it carefully over the back of the chair. Mattie saw that he wore his hair in a sort of bun on top of his head.
“The Bellamys came by and told me all,” Ahmad said to Mattie. “And I witnessed what you did for your family. It was most courageous.” His tone was formal, but his voice was warm.
“You were there?” Mattie asked. “I don’t remember you being there.”
He leaned forward, clasping his hands. “I was watching. I almost stopped you. But I could do nothing to help, not anymore.”
Mattie stared at him. “What do you mean, not anymore?” she said.
“What do you mean?” Selena echoed. “Are you—are you one of them? Like Mattie and her family?”
“Once I was,” Ahmad said. “Long ago, or so it seems. But Morogh took that from me.”
“What was your talent?” Mattie asked, almost in a whisper.
His eyes were sorrowful. “It was like yours, but only with animals. I communicated with animals. Not in words, exactly, but—well, you know. In Sumatra, many of us could do it. It was almost … ordinary. I was just a farmer, chickens mostly, and it was useful on the farm.”
“What happened?” Selena asked.
“Morogh came there. I don’t know how. He wanted tigers, and he asked the people in my village to help him. Our tigers are small and very rare, you see, and not so dangerous as the big Bengals. But dangerous enough. We refused, of course, so he went into the forest himself. I happened upon him there a few days later. I was with my young son.”
He paused for a moment, remembering. His expression, usually so impassive, was pained. “Morogh was struggling with Hasha. He had a pistol, but the cat had already taken his fingers when I stepped into the clearing where they fought. He grabbed my son with his bloody hand and said he would kill the boy if I didn’t trap Hasha and Hadi.”
Yes, this was what Mattie had seen. The scene in the forest, Master Morogh struggling with the tiger. The horror of it.
Ahmad’s face twisted. “What could I do? I had to save my son!”
“Of course you did! You didn’t have a choice!” Selena assured him.
“I used my power to capture the tigers. I convinced them that they would be safe if they went into the crates Morogh had brought to the forest’s edge. None of us, the villagers, had ever lied to them before. We lived in peace with the cats—they had their place, and we had ours. So they went willingly. Then, when they realized what I had done and I … I explained to them why I had to do it, they did not blame me. They understood, especially Hasha. Tigers love their cubs as well. They trusted me. They trust me still.” He said this bitterly.
“And then, once the tigers were trapped, Morogh hypnotized me. I did not have the strength to resist him. He forced me to give my power up, and he said he would do the same to the other villagers unless I went with him, him and the tigers. We came here, to the circus.”
“So Master Morogh has your talent? He can speak with the animals?” Mattie frowned in confusion. She knew that the tigers despised Master Morogh. Even the dogs avoided him.
“Animals are smart, in their way, and they have their own power. He could not bend them to his will. He knows what they think, and they know his mind. But he cannot force them to act. That is why he needs me, to control the tigers. I had to go with him. I have not seen my family since we left. My boy—he is nearly twelve now. My wife …” His voice broke.
“I’m so sorry,” Mattie said.
Sorry for what had happened to him, sorry for not trusting him. Then she thought of something. “Wait, was it you who let the tigers out?”
He sighed. “Yes, it was I. I suppose it was not a sensible thing to do. But we were near the end of our stay here, and I had had enough. This place is very like our forest in Sumatra, so I hoped they might survive here. I thought that if the cats were gone, Morogh would let me leave as well. But I did not think far enough ahead.”
“They would have been hunted down,” Mattie said. “People wouldn’t have understood.”
“Yes. I realized that when I saw Morogh with his gun.” Ahmad was quiet for a moment. Then he looked up at Mattie. “Even though I did not often use my power—my talent, you call it—I still miss it. It was part of me. So I know how you feel. But more than that, I miss my home and my people. Once I thought I could get my power back from Morogh, but now I would be satisfied to go without it. I only want to go home.”
Mattie drew in a deep breath. “But … but we can get it back,” she said. Her head was spinning, and it wasn’t the dizziness she’d felt earlier. “And we can stop him from doing what he wants to do.”
Master Morogh, going out of his way to avoid the tigers’ wagon.
Tibby, saying, “Everyone is scared of them but Mattie. Even that ringmaster.”
Hasha, her teeth closing on flesh and bone.
Selena tried to struggle out of the deep wooden chair. “What? How can we do that?”
“We have power over Master Morogh,” Mattie said. “We know what he’s afraid of.”
They both looked at her. Slowly, Ahmad nodded his head. “Yes, you are quite right,” he said. “We do.”
“We do?” Selena’s face was filled with curiosity, so Mattie told her.
“He’s afraid of the tigers,” she said. “He’s deathly afraid of the tigers.”
CHAPTER 16
They needed a plan. And Mattie needed food. Her stomach was so empty it hurt; she hadn’t eaten in as long as she could remember. Ahmad brought them peanut-f lavored chips and some very weird cheese and fizzy water. They ate and drank in silence for a few minutes. After that Mattie felt much better.
“These are good,” she said, crunching the last chip in the bag. They tasted a little stale, but she was starving.
“I found them in a little grocery,” Ahmad told her. “They are from Sumatra—a familiar taste for me. Like home.”
Selena took a big swallow of water and hiccupped. “I don’t even know where Sumatra is.”
Mattie pictured the world map that Da always conjured up when they were studying history or geography. “Asia someplace, right?”
“It is an island, part of Indonesia,” Ahmad said. “It is very far from here and very, very beautiful.” His voice was full of sorrow.
Selena changed the subject. “So we have to get the tigers to go after Master Morogh,” she said. She had a gleam in her eye that made Mattie nervous.
“I do not think we will have trouble convincing them,” Ahmad assured her.
“But you can’t communicate with them anymore,” Mattie pointed out. “And neither can I now.”
“We still communicate, in our way,” Ahmad said. “That is why I can control them in the ring. When I speak to them, they understand a little, the way Pinga and the dogs understand Dee. It is not the same as it was before, but it is something. I believe I can get them to understand what we want to do.”
“Good,” Mattie said. “Then all we have to do is get them in the same place as Master Morogh.”
Ahmad held up a finger. “Hush,” he said in a low voice. “What is that?”
They all listened hard. There was a strange sort of scratching at the door.
“A tree branch?” Selena whispered. She and Mattie pulled themselves out of the chairs. “An animal?”
Ahmad moved quickly and quietly across the room. As the noise came again, he flung the door open.
Bell stood on the step outside, dressed in a rain poncho that was longer than he was tall. Water dripped off the hood. He looked very pleased with himself.
“I woke up and you were gone!” he announced. “Don’t worry—I didn’t wake Mom and Da. But I looked in the windows of the wagons where lights were on, and I saw you.” He pointed to a crate pushed against the side of the wagon, where he must have stood to see in the window.
Mattie sighed. “Very ingenious, Bell.”
He grinned. “I am a genius. Can I come in? It’s kind of wet out here.”
Ahmad stood aside, and Bell entered, shucking off his poncho. He sat cross-legged on the carpet and picked up the empty chips bag. “You ate them all? Rats. So what are you doing here?”
Ahmad was silent. It was clear that he didn’t know whether to trust Bell or not. “He’s okay,” Mattie told him, and to Bell she said, “We’re going to get my talent back.” She explained Ahmad’s situation and what they’d figured out about Master Morogh.
When she was done, Bell chewed his lip for a moment. “So how can we get Master Morogh and the tigers together?” he asked. “If he’s that scared of them, he’s not going to go near them for anything.”
They all looked at Ahmad.
“We will bring the tigers to him,” Ahmad said. “We will distract him and trap him in his own lair.”
Bell smiled. He liked the sound of that. But, always practical, he asked, “How do we do that?”
“Mattie must do it,” Ahmad replied.
Mattie gulped. “I must?”
“Morogh is a greedy man. You must offer him something he wants.”
“Something he wants?” Mattie repeated. “But he has what he wants! He took it from me!”
Distracted, Ahmad ran his hands through his hair. His bun came unrolled and he rolled it back up again, thinking hard. “Why does he want to read minds? What is he looking for?”
“He wants power,” Selena offered. “He wants to control people. To control everything, if he can.”
“So,” Ahmad said, “you must make him think there is even more he can do to gain control.”
“Huh,” Mattie mused. “Like there’s something he doesn’t know. A trick, or a way to use the talent so it’s even stronger.”
Selena’s face was anxious. “But … what if he touched you? He’d see what you were really thinking.”
“That’s true,” Mattie said, a shiver moving up her spine. “I’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t touch me.”
“Oh, Mattie!” Selena cried. “Haven’t you been through enough?”
“Hey,” Bell said. “Mattie’s tough. She can do it.”
Mattie smiled halfheartedly at him. She didn’t feel very tough.
“He’ll be in his office before the performance,” Ahmad said. “He always takes a few minutes to himself then. That will be the time.”
Mattie nodded.
“Now you must rest,” Ahmad told her, and she nodded again. She was trembling with exhaustion. Or was it fear?
The rain had finally stopped. Mattie and Bell dropped Selena off at her wagon and then crept into their own, still dark and quiet. They slipped on their pajamas, and Mattie pushed her wet and borrowed clothes and Bell’s poncho into an old trunk so Maya wouldn’t come across them in the morning and ask questions. Then they crawled into their bunks.
Mattie was having a dream where Hasha was sitting on her stomach and licking her face. At first it was scary, but then it made her laugh because it tickled. She woke herself up laughing, and she realized when she opened her eyes that there was something sitting on her stomach. And something else was licking her face.
“Tibby, get off!” Mattie said, rolling her sister onto her back.
“It wasn’t me, it was Tray!” Tibby said, giggling wildly and kicking Mattie. Yes, right there next to the bunk was Tray, wriggling like crazy.
“Hey, good dog,” Mattie said, putting her arms around him and nuzzling his soft ears. She missed hearing his funny thoughts, but his cheerful tail told her what he felt.
&nb
sp; “We watched you sleep!” Tibby told her.
“That must have been boring,” Mattie said.
“Yeah,” Tibby agreed. “But now you should get up.”
Mattie sat up fast, cracking her head on the upper bunk. This made Tibby laugh, and she laughed harder when her sister scowled at her.
Mattie scrambled out of bed, rubbing her head, and got dressed quickly. “Where is everyone?”
“Outside. Mama said I could stay and watch you.”
Mattie got Tibby ready to go out, and they opened the wagon door to find Da, Maya, and Bell sitting outside on the folding chairs. The day was bright and hot. The only hint of the wild storm the night before was the mud puddles on the midway, and they were quickly drying in the sun. Tray danced around them, then darted off to find Dee.
Maya handed Mattie a packet. “Here, Stewie made this for you.”
Mattie unwrapped it—a ham and cheese sandwich. She was starving.
“We still haven’t much of a plan,” Da told her. “Only to confront the ringmaster. Demand your talent back. I can’t say what he’ll do.”
He’ll just laugh, Mattie thought as she chewed, ravenous. Then she remembered her own plan, hatched in the night with Selena, Bell, and Ahmad. Her stomach clenched against the food and she coughed. Bell thumped her on the back.
Mattie put down her sandwich. There was no way she could eat any more. “When will you do it?”
“After the show,” Da said. “The others have been grand. I dinna think they understand, truly—not all of it. But they want to help. We’ll all go together.”
Mattie looked at Bell, and he gave her a small, secret smile.
It was after ten, and the rest of the morning passed quickly, with preparations for the final night’s performance keeping Mattie distracted. Everything that could be scrubbed, swept, and shined was. The rousties put a quick coat of paint on the Marvelwoods’ wagon, making the mistake of allowing Tibby to help. Mattie spent nearly an hour trying to scrub the green off her face and out of her hair.
There was no sign of the ringmaster. His door was closed, the shades on his windows drawn. Mattie scuttled by his wagon every time she had to pass that way. She had no idea what she’d do if she saw him.
