Carnival Charlatan

by Skeeter Enright

  She told me, “I want you to look like a rough, tough bad-ass bitch.” Then, she hugged me and ran off before I could even say goodbye. As weapons, the steel rings were a good idea, providing I survived long enough to lay a hand on anything that attacked me.

  It was time to go. Mister D watched while we finished our preparations. He had made a few pertinent suggestions, but now there wasn’t anything more to say. We were as ready as we could be in the short time we had. I felt heavy with the chain mail under my girl power sweatshirt. Tom and I both wore rusty red long coats I had painted with iron oxide. Any Outlands creepy who tried to bite us through the coat would be getting an unfortunate mouthful. The coat pockets held water and snacks as well as a variety of things I could use for making spells. Kind of like a witchy survival kit. The coats also hid Tom’s swords, their normally dull blades sharpened to a fine edge. A defensive belt made of interlocking, four-inch diameter concave metal Conchos circled my waist. They looked like the little shields that they were. The belt would deflect any magical energy shot at me. Well, it would if I knew it was coming. Jeans and heavy work boots completed our outfits. We looked like something out of a Spaghetti Western.

  My walking stick was in my hand. The top of the stick wrapped in metal had a crystal imbedded in the end. I could use it to direct large amounts of energy if things started to go sideways. If push came to shove, the staff was also good for whacking. As much as I wanted to avoid conflict, whacking was a possibility. We were as ready as we could be if it came to a fight.

  “Well,” I said. “No time like the present.” With a whispered word, the air started to shimmer, opening the way into the Outlands. Amanda’s comb on its horsehair leash began to pull toward the distortion.

  Mister D looked directly into my eyes for the briefest moment before I looked down. I hope he hadn’t seen my fear. “I’ll see ya when I see ya,” he said.

  “See ya when I see ya.” I wonder if he’d said the same thing to Grammy when she left the last time.

  Tom put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Let’s do it.”

  I hoped Tom wasn’t having delusions of Rambo.

  I bent at the waist to stick my head through the rippling way. I was careful to keep my balance over my feet on this side of the portal. You never knew what you would find opening a random way. I had been so lucky when I was experimenting as a kid. It was disconcerting to one instant be looking at the wall of my tent on a sunny afternoon and the next to be looking at a meadow in a low valley with the sun shining on the valley rim to the left. I sprinkled a little white flour to mark the location of this exact way and pulled myself back through the rippling air.

  I looked at Tom.

  “Jesus, that looked weird. Half of you was invisible,” he said.

  I made a face. “There is still time to back out.”

  He shook his head.

  I nodded, not knowing if I was happy or not. “Well, then. Let’s disappear.”

  Chapter Eight

  The witch’s tent was gone from the carnival. The mole next to Evan Parris’s nose pulsed with his increased heartbeat, but his bland expression did not change.

  “What happened to the fortune teller,” he asked the older woman in the Greek Fisherman’s cap running a ring toss game.

  “She moved on. I don’t know where,” the old woman replied while she handed rings to several urchins, sticky with cotton candy.

  In his coat pockets, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood. The witch had escaped him. Pain cleared his mind. He wiped the blood inside his pockets and trudged back to his car. She must have used her vile sight to detect his holy wrath. She would not escape him forever. The Carnival Witch’s time would come. God’s wrath could not be forestalled.

  There were others. He had already made a sigil. The calligraphy was perfect, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”. He must fulfill his duty. A descendant of John Proctor was a half hour away near Cleveland. Elizabeth Meyers had used black magic to cure herself of cancer. She too was unrepentant. She would burn tonight. Her death would inspire his sermon to the faithful at the meeting tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  Tom and I stepped through the portal to the Outlands. Just as we passed the veil between the worlds, I heard a raucous caw, and Zach came zipping through over our heads.

  “Zach,” I shouted, forgetting where I was. “Get out of here. Go home.”

  “Hell’o,” Zach replied as he circled overhead. His feathers shimmered in rainbow iridescence.

  “Was that hello, or hell no,” Tom said.

  “Stupid bird. Don’t blame me if something eats you,” I whispered as he flew off over the valley’s shoulder. I let the way close behind us.

  The tracking spell was still working. Amanda’s comb pulled steadily toward the sun, which was low in the sky. Only time would tell if it was rising or setting. A scent reminiscent of frogs hung in the air wafting up from the plants at our feet.

  “Doesn’t look too bad,” Tom said with a shrug.

  “Looks can be deceiving.” I started walking, led by the insistent comb. The silvery plants under our feet resisted our steps in a way that should have sounded like crunching but instead made a disgusting, squishing sound. The musty, froggy smell became more pronounced. Looking back, each of our footprints stood out in inky black. The white line of flour stood out, marking the location of our way back to Cleveland and the carnival.

  At the top of the valley’s rise, we stepped onto a little trail that skirted a small forest of white barked trees. Trunks were ghostly in the shadows under the shaggy forest canopy. The leaves were totally still. An ululating wail came from the treetops nearby. I raised my staff. Tom put his hand on the hilt of his short sword. A six-armed figure scrambled off through the upper branches. It launched itself into the air and flapped away on leathery wings.

  Tom drew his sword. “Is that what I think it was?” he whispered.

  I stopped him with a hand on his arm. I felt a tremor. I wasn’t sure if it was from Tom or me. “If you think it was a six-legged flying monkey, then yeah. It is what you think.”

  Tom took a deep breath. “I guess this is time for the line.”

  At my puzzled look, he continued, “I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  All things considered, Tom was taking the whole situation better than I expected.

  I took a deep breath. “It’s not a good idea to show steel until you absolutely have to,” I cautioned him. “Steel is poison here. If we show too much aggression, they won’t even try to deal with us. They will kill us out of hand. Of course, if something is coming after us, go for it.”

  Tom nodded, and without another word slid his sword back into the sheath under his coat.

  We stopped at the top of the valley’s rise. Another wider valley lay below. On the far side was a structure in shades of blue and green. It looked like a cross between a beehive and a fortress. The building rose far above the valley rim. Amanda’s comb pointed directly toward it. I had hoped we would just find Amanda in the woods and get back to our lives. No such luck.

  “It looks like she’s in that…castle?” I said for want of a better word.

  “Let’s go get her.” Tom started forward.

  I scanned the area around us before I followed. Nothing alive moved in the broad, boulder-strewn acres between the castle and us. For some reason, the boulder field stopped in a line about a hundred yards from the riverbank. A large forest of asparagus-shaped trees lay about a half mile to our left. The sun seemed to be in the same place, even though we had been walking for a while. So time itself ran a lot slower here.

  As we walked, I said, “We can’t just go rushing in. You will have to be careful. Fae are tricky, but they live by a code. No matter what, do not take anything from them or make any promises. Don’t even thank them for something simple. They have a unique sense of honor. They won’t tell a lie, but they expect the same of everybody else. If they catch you lyi
ng, you are as good as dead,” I said, looking at Tom intently. “We can’t win a fight here. We have to talk our way out of this. It’s our only chance.”

  Tom nodded and took his hand out from under his coat, off the hilt of his sword. Zach landed on his shoulder, his feathers shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow. He leaned his head against Tom’s cheek and said, “Awwww” in a mournful tone. I remembered some Native American tribe had a legend about a rainbow crow bringing light to man. Myths and legends come from somewhere.

  Tom took a deep breath and nodded again. “I’ll follow your lead. Don’t worry.”

  “Oh yeah,” I remembered. “Don’t give anyone our names. A name can give them power over you. What was your father’s name?”

  “Bob.”

  “You’ll be Son of Bob, and I’ll be Daughter of Sylvan, if anyone asks.” I never knew who my father was.

  I needed to tell Tom so many things, but there was no time to waste. I wondered how fast time was flying by back in our world.

  A light breeze stirred, bringing us the faint scent of citrus from the valley floor. We started down the gentle grade toward the castle. The slope had a band, about twenty yards wide, dotted with rounded boulders strewn among stiff clumps of grass. The boulders were various sizes from about ten inches to three feet in diameter. About halfway through the boulder field a raspy, grinding sound began. Then, the boulders moved.

  “Tom,” I yelled, pulling the sword from under my coat. So much for a low profile. Tom was ahead of me, a sword in each hand. I shifted my hand down my staff, holding it like a bo ju.

  The boulders bounced as they rose above the ground. Squinty eyes opened, and they split in the middle, exposing mouths full of triangular, gnashing teeth—like Pac Men from hell. In unison, they all started making a creepy gnang gnang gnang noise.

  I had seen drawings of these things in one of my books. They weren’t supposed to be very smart. I hoped the book was right. By the second bounce, the nearest ones were on us. My steel blade bisected the first big one as though it cut through butter. A ten-incher grabbed my coat. It shrieked as it got a mouthful of the iron oxide-coated leather. It still bit a neat hole through the hem. Tom had put down at least four by the time I had fended off the second beach ball-sized monster with a swing of my staff.

  “We need to move,” I shouted and wacked overhand at another small one that bounced as high as my head.

  “What are these things,” Tom panted as he hewed and hacked his way toward the edge of the field of bouncing creatures.

  “They’re called Trows. Don’t let them get a hold of you. They can’t let go until they bite all the way through.”

  We were nearing the edge of the field of Trows. Tom cleared the path. I fended off the ones attacking from the back and sides. The only saving grace was the mass of Trows coming along the hillside were stopping to eat the ones we had already killed. If they hadn’t been so greedy, they would have overwhelmed us long before we made it to clear ground. Thick, purple blood flew off the ends of our swords. Tom was dripping in the stuff. My coat was covered. I had so much Trow blood in my hair, strands stuck to my neck and face. The blood reeked with a sickly, sweet odor. The gnang gnang gnang along with the greedy gulping noises were getting on my nerves.

  Tom hacked and whacked with all the fury he’d bottled up since Amanda had gone missing. As a little Trow dropped from a high bounce, Tom gave him a drop kick that would have made a college punter proud. The shrieking projectile flew toward the river. There was a flash of light and the sizzle of burned meat. The Trow disappeared in a flash of smoke and purple flame.

  Tom skidded to a stop. He sliced three of the bouncing creatures in one swing and skewered a fourth with his other sword. I stepped behind him and shouted, “Cover me.”

  While I fumbled for the bag in my pocket, Tom slapped a basketball-sized gobbler into the shield where it sizzled into nonexistence. He spun and cut, a sword in each hand. Thanks to Tom’s ministrations, the meat was piling up in a semicircle around us. I grabbed a handful of iron filings from my bag and sprinkled them on the bodies, making a barrier the gobbling Trows could not easily cross. Tom held his sword ready for any high bouncers.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he panted.

  I opened a way and quickly peeked through. “Tom, step through. Be careful, it’s steep.”

  He started to protest, thought better of it, and stepped through. I heard crashing as he fell down the hill. I sprinkled a little flour at the edge of the way. I turned quickly to whack a high bouncing Trow in half, wincing as his teeth scraped on the blade with the sound of shearing metal.

  I gingerly stepped through the way and closed it behind me. A bedraggled Tom climbed up the hill he’d tumbled down when he first stepped back into our world. I crouched down, holding onto a slim tree. Every one of my muscles trembled. I pulled a bottle of water out of the inner pocket of my coat. I was shaking so hard, I spilled it all over me as I drank. I handed another bottle to Tom, as he sat next to me. He took it silently and drank while looking out into the forest. The Trow blood turned transparent and rapidly began to evaporate from our clothes and hair. Ectoplasmic hair conditioner, I thought giddily. I ran my fingers through my goopy locks and gathered them into a sloppy ponytail high on my head.

  I watched Tom. He seemed to be in shock. After about two minutes, he asked, “Nobody knows this stuff is real, do they?”

  “Some people do,” I replied. “Would you believe it if you hadn’t seen it?”

  “No, you tried to tell me.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Do you think Amanda is still alive? How could she live in that place?”

  “She’s alive, or the search spell wouldn’t work. I’m betting whoever took her is protecting her. Someone put the barrier up to keep the Trows away from the castle.” I looked at Tom and met his eyes for a brief second. I didn’t want to, but I had to ask, “Do you want to keep going? I can try to find her alone.”

  Tom reached over and took my hand. “I could say the same to you.”

  Tears came to my eyes. “I guess we’re in this together then.” I stood up, wiped my eyes savagely. I refuse to turn into a weepy broad. “Once more into the breach, dear friend.” I held out my hand.

  Chapter Ten

  The way I opened was less than a yard from the one we had come through. I faintly heard the gnang gnang of the Trows. I threw a stick through the way and heard the distinct sizzle as it went through…a little too close to the barrier.

  “We had better go a little farther,” I said. I held on to some trees and skidded down the hill a bit. The new way let us out about twenty feet from the oily, green-tinged river on the valley floor. The water flowed and roiled sluggishly. It was the source of the citrus smell on the hillside. The Trows were still busy eating their dead on the other side of the invisible barrier behind us. Occasionally, there was a shriek, as one digested some iron filings. Tom sauntered up to the riverbank. I was ready to warn him when Zach swooped close to the river’s surface, and a green arm shot up, grasping for him. Tom jumped back. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed.

  I shrugged, raising an eyebrow and trying to seem nonchalant. I spit out a little vomit that had come up when I saw the green arm. “I think those are kelpies. They’re a type of water fairy.”

  “Do they come out of the water?”

  “No, but if they get a hold of you…well, they really like humans. They think we’re delicious, even without salt.” I didn’t want Tom to get cocky. We were lucky to have survived the first attack. There were things a lot worse, and a lot smarter, than Trows around.

  “How are we going to get across?” he asked.

  I considered for a minute. I knew a spell and could use magic to make a bridge, but I wanted to save my strength. “I’m going to make another door to our world, and we can take a few steps, and I’ll make another one to come back.”

  Tom looked at me skeptically.

  “It’s either that or swim,” I said. I opened a way. When I p
oked my head through, I was looking out on a dirt road. No buildings were in sight, but there were palm trees and what looked like a rice paddy to the left. Was that a water buffalo? Whatever it was, this was definitely not Cleveland. I pulled out some flour and sprinkled it at the edge of the portal. “I think maybe just two steps will do,” I said as I straightened up. Hold my hand, and come through right next to me.”

  We stepped through and stopped.

  “What the F…?” Tom started, looking around.

  “I told you things are different in the Outlands. Where it connects to our world is fairly random.” I let the way fall closed behind us and opened a new way, checked quickly, then stepped through. Our next step brought us out near the asparagus tree forest. Zach came flapping toward us, cawing steadily. His colorful feathers flashed in the light as he circled us once and flew off over the trees. A rhythmic drumming came from the forest.

  “Let’s go,” I said, pushing at Tom. We trotted toward the castle. The drumming became louder. Tom pulled me up short. We turned to see five centaurs burst from the forest at a gallop. They carried silver-tipped spears.

  “All legends…”

  “…come from somewhere,” Tom finished for me. We instinctively stood back to back. Tom started to draw his sword.

  “Wait,” I said. I held my staff in front of me, and the crystal on the tip began to glow as I focused my energy. In a low voice, I said, “If I open a way, dive through to the left.”

  “Unh,” Tom grunted an affirmative. I heard the sword slide back. A quick glance told me his hand was still on the hilt. Maybe he wasn’t as confident as I thought. I know it took every ounce of guts I contained to stand my ground, to not open a way and jump through back to our safe, tidy world. My luck, the way would open into the headquarters of a Biker Gang, and I’d still be in shit up to my eyeballs. No place was safe and tidy in any of the three Universes. I might as well stick it out here.