by Leanne Leeds
“Fortuna, I’m so sorry.”
“That’s not even my real name. Well, maybe it is. My adoptive family called me Heather. Heather Anne Addington. I mean, can you picture it? Me? Heather Anne Addington?”
I couldn’t picture it. In my mind, Heather Anne Addington was a blonde girl living in an estate. I could see her in a delicate tennis outfit, blond hair shining. Trying to place the name on the short, curvy gypsy woman in front of me didn’t quite fit.
“I chose Fortuna Delphi. Delphi for the Delphic oracles, the Pythia. Fortuna for the Goddess of Fortune. I hoped that by taking her name, maybe she would make a little luck for me when I left home. And it worked, too. Within two weeks, I found the Langdon circus. Everything became clear, and I knew what I was and where I belonged.”
“And now, it’s like you don’t belong all over again,” Fiona whispered from the door. Fortuna turned, startled, and then nodded.
“My family just didn’t accept me, though. The paranormal world wants to kill me.”
“We’re the paranormal world, too, Fortuna,” Fiona told her. “Those intolerant women with their bigoted views are not the paranormal world as much as they would like to think they are. Heck, they’re not even the entire Witches’ Council.”
“I know that,” she acknowledged. “It’s hard to remember they are just three witches. The other ten witches on the Council are not known to be so… angry.”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “They’re not known for much of anything other than relaxing in their palace. Flighty women that do not understand what happens in the real world. Paranormal or otherwise.”
“You don’t think the rest of the Witches’ Council knows what Mina, Mabel, and Mercy are doing?” Fortuna and Fiona both shook their heads no. “How could they not know?”
“Everyone knows the other ten witches inherited their places and rubber stamp whatever the wicked triplets dictate they should. Doing otherwise would require far too much work.” Fiona plopped down on the bed. “They hardly come out unless it’s Council Day. And on Council Day, they flutter around and wave from their patio like they were all the Queens of England.”
“They’re all women?”
Fortuna looked astonished. “Of course they are. Men can’t have leadership positions in witch councils. Or towns.”
“But my uncle was the ringmaster. And Roland Makepeace is the ringmaster of Makepeace Circus.”
“Why do you think they hate circuses so much?” Fiona asked. “Well, that’s not the only reason. But it is certainly one of the many reasons they think we’re some crazy outsider group that refuses to follow the rules.”
“The rules are stupid. And sexist.” Fiona shrugged. “Doesn’t anyone else feel that way?”
“It wouldn’t matter if they did,” Fortuna pointed out. “The paranormal world is not a democracy. If people felt that way, what could they do about it?”
“I refuse to believe things just are the way they are, and nothing can be done about any of it.”
“That’s why we love you, Charlotte,” Fiona said as she threw her arm around me and gave me a smack on the cheek. “And if you could expand the Magical Midway so it would encompass the entire world, you could fix everything.”
It was incredible that with all the magic at their disposal, the paranormal world was facing some of the same problems as the human world. Even more, in a way. The people here were ruled by dictators that got away with abuses because of ineffectual leadership. The more things change.
“So, what do we do?” Fortuna asked.
“Right now, the answer is defeating the three witches on this issue,” I told her, hopping out of bed. “After we save you and Mark, we’ll worry about taking over the paranormal world and starting a mutiny.”
“They’re usually here,” Arden told me as he rubbed the dime pitch game board. “I dunno where he and Krog went. They been gossiping and huddlin’ all the time lately. Dunno what’s with those two. Clancy’s chapping my green buttocks, I’ll tell you.”
“Your rear is green?” I asked the grumpy leprechaun.
“What?” He peeked up at me, insulted. “My bum’s lily white and soft as a baby’s, I’ll have you know. Maybe you want to find out sometime, eh, Charlotte?” Arden wiggled his unruly red eyebrows up and down in what I presumed was an attempt at seduction. Instead, it reminded me of being aggressively threatened by bright orange caterpillars. “Sides, I always wanted to kiss me a lawgiver. Very sexy, that. What you want Clancy for, anyhow?”
“Yesterday when Serena was having a fit, I saw Krog and Clancy run off when I arrived. Since they were near the lion area, I wanted to find out if they’d seen Mark. Or anyone around that area that shouldn’t be.
“Dunno what the two of them would do over there. I wouldn’t think those two would hang between the werewolves and the lions for leisure if you know what I mean.”
“Not sure I do.”
“The shifters keep to themselves mostly,” Fiona told me.
“You mean us short creatures keep away from you shifters,” Arden corrected.
“I’m not a shifter,” Fiona snapped.
“You walk like a human. You change into a filly. That’s shifter enough for me, eh?”
“Arden,” I said, stepping in front of Fiona. “Your booth is right next to Mark’s tent. Did you hear anything, see anything unusual? Maybe you overheard a quarrel or saw someone the morning he disappeared that struck you as odd?”
“Ever since he and that lion started their tomfoolery Mark hasn’t been around his tent all that much,” Arden said, stepping back and staring at the board. He squinted, leaned forward, and scoured a corner. Nodding to himself, he turned back. “Just when the fair is open. Once the humans all leave, he goes somewhere. Between you and me, I think he’s been trying to avoid that Leo.”
“Why’s that?”
“Have you met him? What a pretentious sod that youngster is. If you talked to him over five minutes, you’d avoid him as much as you could, too. Ugh. There he is now.”
Leo walked with his back erect, head held high between the haunted house and Mark’s silent tent. All he needed was a spotlight, a runway, and some background music and his manner would have been perfect for a Paris runway. As he passed us, he flashed a smile that seemed more like a sneer.
“Charming,” I murmured as he walked away.
“I don’t see the big deal with people dating whoever they want. If I met a sexy lioness that liked ‘em short and crass, I’d give it a go, too. Leo did not feel the same way about Mark and Serena.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Was hard not to hear them arguing when Serena first dated him,” Arden said as he sat down on his stool, took out his pipe, and sucked air through it. “Seems that when he became the head of the pride, he assumed Serena would be his.”
“Why’s that?” Fiona asked.
“Her father was the old pride leader.”
“Why would that mean she would become his girlfriend or wife or whatever?”
“Because he decided. Least, that’s what it seemed like. Since there are only three werelions, in his mind, it was her or her sister. He decided he wanted Serena, and she decided he didn’t get to decide for her.”
“I would think not,” Fiona agreed.
“Did you ever see Leo talking with Alexa Atwater?”
“Is that girl back? Oh, lordy me.” Arden threw back his head and laughed. “If she’s back, Acadia can’t be too far behind. Though let's hope not.”
“Who’s Acadia?” I asked, confused.
“The fourth and final naiad sister. Anya, Alessandra, Alexa, and Acadia Atwater. Alexa and Alessandra are official residents here. Acadia and Alexa are not, but they visit annually. Usually not at the same time, but Arden’s right.” Fiona scratched her head, shrugged, and sighed. “If Alexa is here and there’s trouble, Acadia is no doubt going to show up.”
“We still don’t know why Alexa is here,” I pointed out.
“
Really?” Arden asked. “That girl’s been trouble since she crawled out of the river with her fully formed attitude. I’d lay money on Alexa having something to do with Mark disappearing.”
“Why’s that?”
“That girl’s always been trouble. Always been. Always will be. Heck, talk to Bolt over at Sticky Walls. He’ll tell ya all about her.”
The ride looked like a big jewel. Sticky Walls sat across from the haunted house, and as we walked by I saw little Anna’s glowing face in the window. She waved, and then her face fell as she looked right and left. As soon as she was satisfied no one would catch her peeking, she hopped up and down and waved again. I waved back and grinned.
“That seems so odd,” I told Fiona.
“What?”
“That a child ghost just remains a child. Forever.”
“It’s not necessarily permanent,” Fiona said as she waved at Anna. “Some people die, and they’re not all that disturbed by it. They get up, dust themselves off, and move on to wherever they are expected to go. With some souls, it’s different. They need more time to prepare, to heal.”
“Yeah, but hundreds of years? That’s a lot of time to be a child.”
“Look around you, Charlotte,” Fiona said as she pointed in a circle around her head. “We exist and survive because humans want to play like they’re children. We are where beasts are friendly, shocks are safe, risks are harmless, and ample amounts of sugar don’t make you gain weight or rot your teeth.”
“Is that true? About the sugar?”
“No, but the humans eat here like it is,” Fiona pushed passed the Sticky Walls gate and stuck her head into the open side door. “Anyone in here?”
“One second!” A deep male voice echoed from within the ride. Deep clangs, chimes, and crashes followed. Then a string of hissing and profanity (I assumed) in a language I didn’t recognize. “One second more!” A big boom from within the bowels of the silver and red beast shook the platform we stood on.
“My apologies, ladies,” a tall, lean man said as he stepped out of the shadows. “The old girl’s been acting up when we put it on super sticky mode.” I had seen Bolt from far away, but that view did not prepare me for how striking he was. Up close, I could see the man’s eyes were ice blue, almost crystalline, and his skin was the palest white I had ever seen on an individual before.
“Charlotte, have you met Bolt?”
“We’ve said hi and acknowledged one another, but not really formally, no.”
“I’ve noticed our new ringmaster spends most of her time with her girl gang,” Bolt told Fiona as he glanced at me. “Unless you are a member of that gang or the Makepeace Circus, it seems getting time with her is a bit of a challenge. Luckily, we have a spare ringmaster that is a bit less aloof.”
Bolt’s tone did not seem accusatory or cruel, and yet his words stung me. Uncle Phil was right, and he was not the only one that noticed. “I’m not aloof by nature,” I told him. “I think I’ve just grown up not having a wide variety of close friends. I have to learn to be a member of a big, close-knit family like this.”
“Big and family? That I will grant you,” Bolt laughed as he grabbed a towel and scrubbed the sweat from his hair. “Close-knit? I may challenge you on that observation, Ringmaster. We have our pockets and cliques like any other group. Only you are expected to ignore all that. The rest of us? We keep in our paths, and work to overlook that which bothers us.”
“Would you mind telling Charlotte what you overlook about Alexa when she’s here?”
The friendly smile that had taken up residence on the elf’s face dropped, and his eyes clouded with pain. Looking down the midway, his eyes searched for something. After a moment, he nodded. “Please, come inside. It’s cooler in there, and I have a bottle of mead we can share. I think I need cool darkness as well as the mead for this conversation.”
We followed Bolt into the thick darkness of the ride. Multi-color lights flickered on and off as if it was a disco. Bolt leaned to the right of the door and pushed a few buttons. The automatic door closed and the multi-color lights stopped their dancing. With a final button push, candlelight flared in the vast interior, bathing it in a gentle, otherworldly glow.
“Oh my gosh!” As I glanced around, the interior had been transformed from the ride to images of crystal mountains lining the circular room.
“This is just for us,” Bolt said as he pulled out folding chairs. “Even if a human accidentally pushed the button, they could not see what we paranormals see in here.”
“What is this place? Is it an image of something real?”
“Once it was real,” Bolt said sadly as he gazed around. “Now, it is but a memory of a place that no longer exists except in the hearts of those elves that remember. Perhaps one day I will share it with you. For now, I shall share my honey mead and tell you what you wish to know.”
Bolt handed me a paper cup filled with a golden liquid. One sip and my insides felt as if they were coated with sunlight. Fiona accepted her cup, and Bolt smiled.
“Alexa and I loved one another. Or, at least, I thought we did,” Bolt began as he sat back in his chair. “Have you met my ex-love yet?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “Though if you don’t mind me saying, it seems like you two are opposite.” Bolt was elegant and spoke in a refined manner. Alexa struck me as crude, uncouth. I could not picture the two as a couple.
“What is that human world saying? Opposites attract?” I nodded. “As you have already surmised, we were opposite. I was excited by the wildness I found in her. She seemed comforted by the steadiness she found in me. Naiads are of the water, and very emotional. We elves are air, and cerebral. We complimented one another. Or so I thought.” Bolt sipped his mead, swallowing.
“They were together for two years,” Fiona said. “Then Bolt asked her to marry him.”
“Yes.”
“Did she say yes?” I asked.
“She did. She seemed quite happy, too. Accepted the Vanda ring and wore it on the proper finger.” Bolt spotted my confusion. “A Vanda ring is a pledge ring, much like a human engagement ring. Besides serving as the pledge to marry, it contains magical properties that make it quite valuable. Elves were often killed years ago before they could wed. To protect their betrothed, the ring could be moved upon a lover’s death to a different finger, the word Vanya spoken, and all that the betrothed had would transfer to their love. It was our way of taking care of our intended in case of a tragedy.”
“Uh oh,” Fiona said.
Bolt shifted in his chair and blinked back tears from his icy eyes. “I was not aware that this could be done without the death of the one who gave the ring,” Bolt confirmed tightly. “Alexa was informed when we traveled to Imperatorial City for her dress by an unscrupulous witch that wished to buy it from her.”
“She sold it?”
“No, Ringmaster. She made an agreement with the witch to divide the proceeds between them once she discovered the… riches of elves.” The elf took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “It was not something she knew, nor something I would have ever thought to tell her about. She did not return with me to the Magical Midway, and despite her sister's protestations, your uncle cast her out from this place for her betrayal.”
“So, when you returned…”
“When I returned, I had no love, no money, and no hope for the future. Elves are quite serious about choosing a mate wisely. We have the magic to create one Vanda ring and one Vanda ring alone. I can never create one again, therefore I will be alone for the rest of my long life.”
“Can’t you get someone a regular engagement ring?”
“There are rules, Ringmaster,” Bolt told me.
“I feel you people make up these rules just to make life more complicated for yourselves. You make one bad relationship decision, and you’re cursed to be alone for the rest of your life? That seems like an out-sized penalty for picking the wrong girl to give a ring to.”
“You may not have noticed yet, R
ingmaster—”
“Please call me Charlotte.”
“As you wish, Charlotte. You may not have noticed yet since you are new to living in the paranormal world, but many of our consequences are quite severe.”
“But, like, if you date someone, and then give her a diamond ring, what will happen? Will you explode into glitter confetti? Will she turn into a fish? You both will be cursed with the Ladyhawk thing where you are two different animals and can never be humanoid at the same time?”
“Well… no.”
“Charlotte’s a witch, but she didn’t grow up in the witch world. She doesn’t get some of these rules we have to live by,” Fiona told him, and they nodded to each other.
“Now, hold on a second,” I said a little more sharply than I intended. “That’s not it at all. What I’m saying is you guys are so conditioned to doing what you’re told that it seems like no one stops and thinks about why you’re doing what you’re told. Whether you have to. I was trying to imply that if there’s no consequence, you don’t have to do it. You’re choosing to.”
Fiona and Bolt looked at me as if I’d grown another head.
“Have you guys never heard of democracy? Progress? Self-determination, even? How about freedom, liberty, and justice for all?”
“Those are human concepts,” Bolt said.
“Maybe they should be sentient being concepts,” I countered. “Not for nothing, but humans don’t deal with this ‘rules for no reason’ stuff very well. Maybe you all could learn from the humans.”
“Interesting observation coming from the all-powerful ringmaster,” Fiona pointed out. “It must be easy to make that pronouncement when you are one of the most powerful magical beings on the planet. How’s that view way up there on your high kelpie, your majesty?”
“Maybe it is,” I agreed. “Would you rather I approach this the way Roland Makepeace does? Or the wicked triplets? All fire and threats and dictates?” Bolt and Fiona laughed and shook their heads no. “So, next question—don’t you think it would be better to choose between the three of us if you have to be ruled? Choose what type of person you want to lead? To make laws? To enforce them? To change them?”
