by Leanne Leeds
“Is your circus all that different from ours?”
Gunther’s face fell as he gazed down at the ground. Seconds passed, and I could feel his discomfort at my question. After two dozen steps, he sighed. “Yes. Yes, our circus is much different than yours.”
“Well, maybe as part of my lessons, I can come visit, and you can show me around.”
Gunther nodded and fell silent again. His friendly openness had given way to an almost palpable melancholy.
“Perhaps,” he said quietly, and as we walked together, I sensed the first deliberate lie from my new friend.
After an optimistic family dinner, most of the participants drifted away. Eventually, only my family and my familiar remained around the dining table. A dining table that seemed like it shrunk again, by the way. At the Magical Midway, everyday magic was something I would have to learn to get used to.
“So, Charlotte, are you still comfortable with your decision?” my mother asked as she dug into a chocolate sundae. “It seems like you had an incredibly exciting first few days. Any regrets?”
“I miss you guys,” I told her as I squeezed her hand. “No regrets, though. I’ve been so isolated for so much of my life in a lot of ways. Even though I could sense what people were thinking, or at least the emotions behind them, my life was kind of empty except for you guys. It was hard to get close to people.”
“You do seem to have made some friends here,” my father observed. “You never really talked about anyone except Fiona when you came home from your visits.”
“I didn’t really get out much. Since I was only here a week, there never seemed to be much point.”
“I’m glad to see that you’re making friends,” my mother said. “And oh, my that Gunther is a handsome young man! I think he likes you, Charlotte.”
“Martha, we don’t want to encourage that,” my father told her, shifting in his chair. “Gunther will eventually be the ringmaster of the Makepeace Circus.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Once he is the ringmaster, he can’t leave his Midway for more than a day, the same as Charlotte can’t leave hers. What kind of relationship would that be for the two of them? A tragic one, that’s what kind of relationship,” my father told my mother.
As my parents discussed the pros and cons of my possible romantic relationship with Gunther, I rolled my eyes. The two of them could make a mountain out of a molehill even when there was no mole in sight.
Sure, Gunther was handsome. He seemed kind. Eventually, we would be the only two people on the planet with the responsibility to carry the magic of the Midway. We got along. We would be working together to teach me magic. But that didn’t mean we would fall for each other.
What your father has said is true, Samson said. If there is a kernel of care within you for Gunther, you would be well advised to snuff it out.
I don’t have time for a relationship, so this is all pointless.
Love has a way of popping up just when you decide you don’t need it, Uncle Phil interjected as my parents continued arguing out loud whether it would be a good idea or a bad idea for me to date Roland Makepeace’s son. It’s a good idea for you to know of the potential issues before you get too attached to the young man.
“Could everyone just stop? Stop debating my love life, stop thinking things about my love life in my direction. Just stop. Let’s just enjoy the rest of this evening without going over the pros and cons of a relationship that’s not even happening. Okay?”
They murmured their agreement and changed the subject to what Uncle Phil could and could not do while dead.
As they clinked glasses and laughed at each other’s jokes, I enjoyed the first meal I ever had with my family that included no argument between the Astley brothers over my future. It was unnervingly peaceful. I didn’t even mind my parents debate over my nonexistent future with Gunther so much.
Tomorrow, the sun would rise over the Magical Midway. There were things I needed to do that I wasn’t even sure how to get done. In two days, the humans would again flood the Midway, and I would be challenged once more. The Witches Council would visit again, and Roland Makepeace was an unknown. I had things to worry about, and the path forward as the new ringmaster I needed to find.
For tonight, though, life was good.
Go grab Life on the Lion, the next book in the Magical Midway series right now or keep reading! I’ve included Chapter 1!
Life On The Lion
Published by Badchen Publishing
11923 NE Sumner St., Suite 681364
Portland, OR 97220
www.leanneleeds.com
©2018 Leanne Leeds
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
1
“Watch out!” Gunther yelled as we both dove underneath the table. After three months of magic lessons, I should be capable of levitating an object. Well, without turning that item into a fast boomerang.
The shattered mirror indicated this was not yet the situation.
“It moved,” I told him as I wriggled out and stood up. “I mean, agree that I got it moving. That’s improvement. Right?”
“Yes, you advanced so fast you nearly brained us, Charlotte.”
“Technicality,” I told Gunther. “It moved.”
He sighed. The longer Gunther taught me, the more he seemed to sigh. I wasn’t doing that bad. Was I?
“It’s all about control, Charlotte. I keep telling you that. You don’t have to open the full magical fire hose for every single spell you do.”
I always thought anything worth doing was worth doing full throttle. Considering the expression on Gunther’s face, maybe I needed to rethink that.
Is it safe to come back in? Samson, my familiar, asked as he poked his head around the yurt flap. I thought I heard glass breaking. Again.
“Samson, let me clean up the broken glass off the floor. I don’t want your paws to get cut up.” I moved toward the broom leaning against the wall, but Gunther stopped me.
“I’ve got it,” Gunther said. The heir to the rival Makepeace Circus pulled out his wand and waved it at the shards. With a yellow shimmer, the fragments disappeared. A moment later, the mirror reappeared in its frame. “You should remember things are a little easier to do sometimes with magic. Faster, too.”
Show off.
“Look, I get that this is more challenging than simply thinking something,” Gunther said as he walked over to my love seat. “This will be harder for you to learn. The ringmaster power is nearly effortless to wield. This isn’t. This is a skill you have to work at.”
“I wouldn’t call the ringmaster thing effortless.” I plopped down in the chair next to Gunther with a crash. My mug of Mocha Elegance was lukewarm, but I took a big gulp, anyway. At some point, the elegance part of the drink had to kick in, right? “Yesterday, I had to redesign an entire yurt quarter. Three wereducks didn’t want to share a bathroom. Try interior decorating when three ducks are quacking at you. Tell me how effortless it is.”
“Look, I don’t want to lecture you,” Gunther said as he held up his hands. “When I come next time, I want you to relax. Take it easy with the force you exert. It’s like you’re trying so hard you wind up squeezing the hose too tight. Instead of less power, you wind up with more. More than you can control at this point.”
“I’ll try,” I told Gunther, and he smiled at me. “I appreciate you not lecturing me. I feel like a failure enough as it is sometimes.”
“I mean well. Granted, I also don’t want a skull fracture from a rocket-fueled hairbrush racing around your yurt,” Gunther laughed. “I’m all about self-preservation.”
“Speaking of self-preservation, how are you getting along with your Dad?”
And there it is. The walls slammed shut. Had Gunther gotten up and locked me in the arm
oire, it might have been more subtle.
Over the past three months, I mentioned getting an invitation to the Makepeace Circus multiple times. Gunther would clam up or change the subject every single time I said it. Eventually, I switched to inquiring about his father. His reaction was no better. At this point, I was considering just sneaking over there and looking around. I could get no insight into why Gunther was so defensive about his home. It was weird when he was so at ease in mine.
“Oh, it’s all the same. You know, Dad is Dad. How’s your Uncle Phil adjusting to the new situation?”
The new situation Gunther spoke of was that my Uncle Phil was dead. Upon his death, the Magical Midway ensconced me as the new ringmaster, and I held an ancient superpower that allowed this place to exist. At least I assumed it was old. It could have been born 200 years ago for all I knew. In any case, a super cosmic power hitched a ride on my person, and by doing so crowned me the undisputed leader of this traveling paranormal circus.
In theory, anyway.
I was supposed to be in charge. Like, magically chosen and anointed and infused with superpowers and all that stuff.
Though I was assumptively the leader, the old ringmaster, my Uncle Phil, still looked super alive for a dead guy. He knew the job inside and out. Everyone knew him for over 20 years. And now that he seemed utterly and entirely reanimated, for many here it was as if he had never died.
Heck, he looked better now than when he was alive. You don’t gain weight when you’re dead no matter how many strawberry cream pies you eat.
Thanks to me, of course. Me, who would gain 5 pounds dipping my index finger in a dot of whipped cream and licking it.
But I digress.
I used my superpowers on my Uncle Phil’s ghost. I thought it would be cool if folks could see and hear Uncle Phil. I mean, he was here anyway and only I could see him. Why should I be the only one he bugged? I thought it would be a nice thing to do, make things a little easier. People missed him, and I hadn’t been trained to be in charge of the circus, so win-win, right? I made his ghost visible and audible like the ghosts in the haunted house.
My uncle’s girlfriend, Jeannie, then granted Uncle Phil’s wish to have a body.
Poof! Instant resurrection.
Bam! Instant demotion for me in everything but incredible cosmic superpowers.
“What new situation? He’s got everything he lost before his death. Well, except the ability to go off the fairgrounds.”
“And the power, Charlotte. He doesn’t have that anymore. You have that now. That has to be tough for him.”
“Tough for him? You’re kidding, right? The only thing that’s tough for him is trying to find me so he can order me around like a super-powered wind up toy.”
“Charlotte!” Uncle Phil called as he burst into my yurt.
“See what I mean?” I told Gunther.
“Stand up, close your eyes, and ask to refill the hay bales, please,” my uncle asked me as he yanked me up out of the chair without waiting for my response. Glancing over at the love seat, he nodded to Gunther. “Good afternoon, young Gunther. How’s our girl doing with her magic lessons?”
“Just great, sir! Coming along fine.” Gunther’s eyes flashed to the mirror. Thanks, buddy. Gunther needed to learn to lie better.
“Did she break the mirror again?”
“You know, I’m standing right here! Do you want me to help or not?”
“Of course, Charlotte,” Uncle Phil nodded. “It’s not like I can pop out to the feed store, now, can I?”
I glared at my uncle. Closing my eyes, I asked for the hay bales to be refilled. Seconds later, I heard the small hiss of energy that told me the task was complete.
“Done. Anything else I can help you with?”
“Nope, everything’s going splendidly, Charlotte. The big top show is completely sold out for tonight. The grounds are full of happy townspeople and profiting paranormals! All is as it should be, my girl.”
“Awesome.”
“I will see you later on today. So much to do, so many things to oversee! Ta-ta, my girl!” Uncle Phil sing-songed as he skipped out of my tent in his ringmaster outfit.
“Bye,” I said to the already vacated space. Gunther shifted in his chair and raised his eyebrow at me. I held my arms out and stopped just short of verbalizing the I-told-you-so.
“So, he’s doing everything?”
“He knows everything, so he’s doing everything. I’m a magical supply shop.” I tried not to sound like a spoiled child with her toy taken away, but it wasn’t working.
After his resurrection, Uncle Phil had tried to teach me how to run operations at the Magical Midway. I was too slow for his liking and… um… made the carousel disappear. Accidentally.
Then he demonstrated while I watched, insisting that an observational internship would be better for me. Eventually, he realized we could just share the responsibility. Because, really, where was he going? He took the aspects of the ringmaster that required expertise, and I got stuck with the elements that needed the power.
Hence my demotion to the Magical Midway supply closet.
“It might be a good thing for the moment,” Gunther observed as he leaned in. “It gives you a chance to focus on other things. Like your magic.”
“I guess,” I shrugged. It was easy for Gunther to say. He had grown up at the Makepeace Circus and knew it inside and out. I didn’t know what I didn’t see. Three months after my elevation there were still people I didn’t know well, yurts I never entered.
“I’m glad we get to spend time together, at least.” Gunther smiled, and I smiled back. He had become a good friend, and a lot of fun to hang around. I was a little sad knowing that Gunther and I could never be more than friends. He was charming, handsome, and kind.
He was also completely off-limits.
I may only be the Magical Midway supply closet, but I still couldn’t leave the fairgrounds for more than a day. Once Gunther became the Makepeace Circus ringmaster and anchor, he would have the same limitations.
Our time, like all good things must, would eventually end.
Fiona, Fortuna, Anya, Avalon and I got together for girls’ dinner before the evening’s circus show.
In the three months I had been at the Magical Midway, the five of us had assembled our own paranormal girl squad of a sort. A kelpie, a human seer, a naiad, a weredeer, and a ringmaster witch walked into a bar…
Then they drank and talked about guys.
A bunch.
“I can’t understand why you and Gunther haven’t… well, you know,” Anya observed in her outspoken manner. She passed a sweet and savory concoction of fish she brought to the feast, and I snatched the platter. “He’s sexy, you’re cute. You both spend so much time together, and it’s not like anybody here will date you.”
“Thanks, Anya, for pointing out my absolute lack of ability to appeal to a man. Any man. On this entire fairgrounds.”
“That’s not what she meant,” Fortuna, the seer, said as she reached forward to seize a roll. “No one may treat you as if you’re the ringmaster since your Uncle Phil came back from the dead, but every man on these fairgrounds knows what you are. And that’s setting aside the fact that most paranormals wouldn’t date a witch, anyhow.”
“That’s witch bigotry,” Fiona said as she smacked her fist on the dinner table and hiccuped. Fiona had become fond of human wine.
“It is easy to be bigoted against the witches when they are bigoted against us by statute,” the quiet weredeer alpha doe Avalon interjected as she plucked at her salad.
“Hey, don’t paint me with the same brush as the Witches’ Council. I assure you, I like you guys better than them. I’m not prejudiced.”
“You’re not,” Fiona said. “You didn’t grow up in their academies taking classes like ‘Why Witches are In Charge of the Government 101’. We lesser paranormals are incapable of governance, don’t you know.” Fiona rolled her eyes.
“I’m not even supp
osed to be here,” Fortuna pointed out. “Mark and I are both shut out of the paranormal towns by Witches’ Council regulations. They hate humans. At least they sure seem to.”
I shook my head, disagreeing with Fortuna. “Okay, I have to stop you there. They don’t do that to discriminate against you because you’re human, they do that to protect all paranormals—witches, kelpies, everyone. Do you think if humans just tumbled into Mineral Springs they would smile, shake hands and go home again? They’d strip mine those diamond fields in a day. Maybe two.”
“Ugh. She sounds like a member of the Witches’ Council. Spending too much time with the properly educated Gunther,” Anya said. Fiona and Fortuna nodded and chuckled. Avalon looked concerned. Then again, Avalon always looked concerned.
“Look, I’m not suggesting the Witches’ Council isn’t an unfair bureaucratic nightmare. I’m also not defending how they treat people. You guys well know I’m not a fan of the wicked triplets. Some of their laws, though, exist for a reason and it’s for the preservation of all of us. Not just witches.”
“Yes, but who determined that witches and witches alone would be in charge of the entire paranormal world? What makes them smarter, or wiser?” Fiona asked me. “I don’t hold you responsible because witches took power and kept it for hundreds of years. I can tell you, however, it will be a sore spot with the rest of us.”
“They were closer to humans,” Anya told me. “They rose to power because they learned to pass as human before we did and because the humans believed them to be real at the time that the paranormal world reacted to safeguard itself. Witches were in the most danger, so it got them the most power and sympathy. That doesn’t excuse what they did with it once they got it one iota.” Everyone but me nodded.
I determined not to argue. I adored my girls crew of paranormal friends, but I knew my family was the only group of witches they had no problem with. The most disconcerting thing about becoming ringmaster had been the political conflicts within the paranormal world. I had never known about them, and their intensity surprised me.
