“Absolutely not,” Maya said. “And no sawing in half.” She didn’t believe a single trick Bell might do to her would be illusion. She couldn’t help but think of Misha, the blood that had bubbled up on his lips and his resignation.
“No saws,” Bell agreed. “I have more interesting intentions for you.”
After Seth and Lars, a single, inseparable shadow, had clambered over the catwalk above their heads and left, Valorie, Christina and Carlo’s act became the main attraction. Lennon joined them, infusing their lower-key feats of flexibility and limbless strength with much-needed, bounding energy that reminded Maya of the clowns.
In the background, Joanne and Jane juggled by themselves and, with a cry of awe from the crowd, to each other, the balls weaving a complicated knot in the air. Misha stabbed and hooked himself, braving the pain he risked and performing like a practiced showman, as though he had no fear. Troy helped him, juggling swords before handing them to Misha.
Then the Tall Man and Short Man circled the lion, directing it like a giant and his jester, until the Ringmaster pulled the metaphorical reins from their comedic hands and concluded the show by making the lion do tricks with the controlled snap of his black bullwhip.
“I’ll have to think on this a little longer,” Bell whispered. “Make my plans.”
If that wasn’t the utterance of a mustache-twirling villain, Maya didn’t know what was.
Chapter Five
Maya drew the line at sleeping in leather.
“You could sleep without it,” Bell said mildly.
“I am not sleeping naked.”
“You have a very large blanket,” he said.
“I am not sleeping naked. If I don’t get a change of underwear and a large T-shirt or something like that right this second, I’m going to kick up a monster of all tantrums. And I’ve been on the front lines of some serious adolescent explosions. I’ve learned from the best. You do not want to mess with me, dude.”
Bell found her a few more pairs of underwear, which she stored in an empty drawer in the living area, and a large T-shirt with the logo from a Halloween theme park. When he handed them to her, folded up and clean and neat, his eyes sparkled.
The shirt barely reached mid-thigh, but it was the best she could expect, and at least it was something. She didn’t know where he’d got any of these things, because they hadn’t been anywhere she’d looked when she’d searched through the wardrobe and drawers in the bedroom. All she’d found then had been Valorie’s clothes, which were decidedly impractical and not Maya’s size.
Maya waited until Bell had joined Valorie in the bedroom before peeling the leather off, like opening a banana. It was surprisingly comfortable to wear, so Maya knew that there had to be some kind of magic involved, but it was a bitch to take off. It had practically fused with her skin from the heat.
Bell and Valorie sounded quite occupied behind the not-quite-closed bedroom door, but Maya still undressed and pulled on her makeshift pajamas as quickly as possible so as not to get caught in the nude.
* * * *
Next thing she knew after closing her eyes, the RV was on the move—disorienting when she’d expected to wake up staying still.
When she sat up, her gaze fell on Bell in an armchair and Valorie upside down on the bar Bell had tied Maya to before.
“Oh my God, who’s driving this thing?” Maya asked, shocked out of her drowsy confusion with a jolt of stomach-punching fear.
Bell wasn’t the only one who chuckled. Valorie nearly fell off the bar she giggled so hard. It was refreshing to see her smile, and Maya noted with some additional envy that her smile was gorgeous, ridiculously perfect. Some people had all the luck.
Clarity following the adrenaline rush brought with it the welcome revelation that one of the golems was probably driving, since they seemed to do all the labor for Arcanium. Wrapping her blanket more closely around her so that she didn’t go walking about in her naked legs, she checked the cab, where a man dressed in black was indeed driving.
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Maya said. “Who are the golems? Are they more bad people accidentally wished into service like the animals?”
Bell fought to hide a smirk as she shuffled to the kitchenette with the blanket around her—which meant he’d intended her to see him fighting it, which in turn meant he wasn’t fighting it at all. As usual, everything was postured, meticulously presented by a master entertainer, as though life as he knew it was rehearsed rather than lived.
“No, their souls are not lost,” Bell replied. “They are safely ensconced where they belong. I merely had use for their bodies. ‘Golem’ isn’t the appropriate term, actually. They weren’t made from the dust of the earth to which man returns. However, the more appropriate term ‘zombie’ has different connotations in today’s world than it once did.”
“So they aren’t going to eat my brain?” Maya said.
Valorie rolled her eyes.
“Not unless I tell them to,” Bell said. “They were once dead men. Because I restored their physical bodies, I command them.”
“All of them?” Even accounting for overlap, those were a lot of automatons to direct.
“I don’t have a hold on each and every one of them at all times,” Bell said. “Instead, our arrangement is more like a toymaker and his tin soldiers. I wind them up with my commands and let them go. At this point, the commands are so many and specific that they function on their own. When they are damaged and no longer needed, I send them back to the earth where they belong. I’ve only had to replace a few.”
Maya believed that God would deal with the purloined bodies in the last days, but in the meantime, did the souls above and below know what Bell used their bodies for? Did they experience it like a dream? Were they offended that they were being controlled by a demon, or did they not care what happened to their meat sack after they’d died?
Honestly, the story behind the golems kind of made them creepier.
“So where are we going?” Maya asked. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that last night had been the final night of Arcanium in their city. She and Derrick had gone to the faire this weekend for that very reason.
“North,” Bell replied. “We’re crossing state lines. They won’t find you when they start looking.”
“They’ll find you,” Maya said.
“When they finally think of checking the circus, they’ll be able to track us through our website schedule, true. But they won’t find you, my dear, and you’re the one they’ll be looking for,” Bell said. He could have been speaking in hypotheticals, but it sounded like he knew the sequence of events. “And when they don’t find you, they won’t give Arcanium a second thought. After all, being kidnapped by a circus is as improbable as running off to join one. Don’t worry, Maya. I won’t let them take you away from us.”
He touched her knee. She shifted out of Bell’s reach, glaring at him. He smiled wryly. Then he went back to the bedroom to do whatever jinn did in bedrooms by themselves.
“Has he figured out what he’s going to do with you yet?” Valorie asked, flipping down from the bar and slouching into the armchair Bell had vacated.
Maya shook her head. “He’s said something about being his lovely assistant. Did he grant your wish as soon as you made it, or did he take time on it like this?” Maya asked. “Was it even your wish that brought you here?”
Valorie avoided her gaze, staring instead at the golem and the conveyor belt of the road.
“He doesn’t usually wait this long to start,” Valorie said shortly. “He knew what to do to me right away. It’s all in the wording. The vagueness in yours probably made Bell feel like Christmas came early. He doesn’t know which possibility to open first. With any luck, he’ll do them all.” She pushed herself out of the chair and headed to the front.
“Hey,” Maya said, standing.
She stumbled when the RV hit a bump, and she fell back onto the couch. Valorie had more experienced road legs and steadied herself
on the bar, making the moment like a move in a choreographed dance.
“What did I do?” Maya asked, although the fall took some of the sharpness out of the question.
“Whatever,” Valorie said. She turned her back on Maya and climbed into the cab to sit next to the golem, leaving Maya alone.
* * * *
After a few excruciating days of fast food, Valorie ignoring Maya, Maya ignoring Bell and a painful dearth of decent company, they arrived at their new site at some dark o’thirty. The golems put the circus up so fast they nearly beat the dawn. It was unreal for the lot outside the new faire to be nearly empty, all the tents flat on the ground like crop circles, then pitched and put together by the time Maya emerged from her mid-morning shower.
As soon as the fences were up and the gates affixed, Bell told her she was permitted to walk the grounds of the new circus site. She was still confined behind its bars, but she leaned against the fence and observed the new faire. This one had more tents and makeshift wooden booths instead of shiny, cement-façaded permanent buildings, but the atmosphere was the same. Its cast was indistinguishable from the last, costumed in various time periods, although they were out of character and preparing for practice and workshops before heading to various day jobs.
Some of them waved at her. She waved back weakly, wishing she could brave the pain to tell them what had happened to her. It was futile anyway. She didn’t doubt Bell had some way of eliminating the memory of her or concealing her presence if it came down to that. He’d been so confident when he’d said no one would find her.
From what she had witnessed of him thus far, his word was iron.
“What happens now?” Maya asked later that morning.
“Now we wait for Friday. Some rehearse. Others take their leave until showtime,” Bell replied.
“And me without a book. Wonderful,” Maya said.
“Kitty will want to experiment with your hair,” Bell said. “And I’ll have to talk with Sasha about your other costumes. We have a few conventions in addition to Renaissance faires this summer—specially booked occasions, Burning Man in August and Halloween around the corner. It would be useful to have a greater variety in your wardrobe.”
Maya didn’t take the opportunity to check in with Lady Sasha that day about slutty additions to Maya’s sartorial repertoire, choosing to meet with Kitty instead in the private, apartment-like back half of her Oddity Row tent. Maya was wholly unprepared for Kitty’s gung-ho attitude about hair styling her.
“Hoping this isn’t a sensitive issue,” Maya said as Kitty used a straightener on Maya’s hair. “Don’t you get tired of hair? I mean, really.”
Maya didn’t like the smell of hot hair, but she’d agreed to submit to Kitty’s experimentation with the caveat that Kitty would try to defer to Maya’s preference for natural hair as often as possible.
“Sometimes,” Kitty replied, “if I’m being honest.” Her hair hung in a braided rope over her shoulder today, her neat beard tied with a piece of leather dangling rhinestone charms. It was curiously feminine. “However, you must admit I have a certain expertise in this area. The only person I don’t help much is Valorie, unless she’s late putting herself together for the performances. She insists on chemically straightening and dyeing her hair, and I’ve just got a brush, a hairdryer and a few irons. I’m not a witch, for Pete’s sake.”
“So Valorie’s allowed out,” Maya mused. She had to admit, fried follicle smell notwithstanding, straightened hair softened her face considerably. She ran her fingers through it after Kitty had finger-combed in something that made it shine.
“She’s voluntary now,” Kitty replied. “I like this. You look almost sweet. Of course, we both know that’s a big, fat misdirection.”
Maya threw a hairbrush at her.
“Voluntary now?” Maya asked. “You mean she wasn’t voluntary before, then?”
“That happens sometimes,” Kitty said. “Either they pay off whatever debt Bell believes they owe and they choose to stay instead of being released, or they use one of their wishes to commit to Arcanium. Once you’re voluntary, you mostly get to come and go as you please, as long as you return for the shows.”
“What is this ‘you’ you speak of?” Maya said. She gave her hair a forlorn flick and rested her forehead against her forearms on Kitty’s vanity.
“‘Lovely assistant’ doesn’t seem like such a bad way to make a living, Maya,” Kitty said, stroking Maya’s hair in comfort this time. “After all, the lovely assistant is the one that always makes it by the end of the trick.”
“Are you kidding?” Maya said. “The lovely assistant is the one everything happens to. In theory, she has the worst day ever.”
“I don’t think he’ll do anything too painful.”
“Have you met Misha?”
“To you,” Kitty amended.
“Why not? I’m a bit of a bitch,” Maya said.
Kitty snorted. “Endearingly so, I’m sure.”
“Only when I’m in a good mood. Lately, that’s never.”
“You seem okay right now,” Kitty said. She took the whole hank of Maya’s thick hair and twisted it into a bun, considering the result. It was a bit severe, but severe could be an intentional look with the right outfit.
“I’m secretly plotting your demise,” Maya replied.
“If it involves chocolate and Sean Maher, I’d more than welcome it,” Kitty said.
“Sorry, I’m fresh out of chocolate and hot gay men,” Maya said. “How do you feel about pizza and a rugged knight?”
“Wait, he’s gay?”
* * * *
When she wasn’t in Kitty’s tent, Maya stayed in the air-conditioned RV, rode the carousel—the golem who ran it always considerately turned it on for her to ride creepy circles to nowhere—or sat alone in the stands around the ring. Sometimes she brought her phone with her. Bell had returned all her effects once they’d reached their new destination. Not without caveats.
She checked her email when she found a signal. She read texts when she got them and listened to her messages.
But as strong as the compulsion was to ignore Bell’s warning not to tell anyone about what had happened and where she was, she couldn’t gather the strength to do it.
The pain of her first day in Arcanium had faded into distant memory and was perhaps more nightmarish now because of it, blown out of proportion by fear. She was afraid what Bell would do to her beyond the pain she’d already experienced. The threat of the great and powerful Ringmaster loomed over her, juxtaposed with the coldly intense expression Bell gave her when he wasn’t secretly laughing at her.
Something about her phone bothered her, though. A number of somethings, in fact.
After Derrick had left her behind, he could have reasonably expected that she’d call a cab and stay with a friend or maybe at a motel. But had he really thought she’d leave all her things at his place for a week without coming over and clearing the place out? That sofa was totally, one hundred percent hers.
And if he believed they’d just had a fight rather than broken up at the faire, why hadn’t he texted her like he sometimes did a day or two after their really bad fights, the ones with shouting matches and fists in sofa cushions? She’d never been gone this long, not without contacting him. Where did he think she’d run off to, and why hadn’t he even tried to figure out where they stood?
Also, she had an email from the school administration saying she’d been fired for unprofessional behavior, which Maya assumed was bureaucratic speak for ‘not coming in to work’. This didn’t surprise so much as confuse her. They hadn’t called or emailed her first to find out whether she was all right, maybe to see whether she’d fallen in her kitchen and couldn’t get up, like the decrepit woman in her late twenties that she was. They’d simply terminated her employment. Did they really believe she would flake out on them like that, especially at the end of the school year?
The other strange thing was that none of her friends had c
alled, texted, emailed or messaged—not even Kerry, one of the few who had really stuck by her side once her relationship with Derrick had become more serious. And her mother hadn’t called either. If Maya didn’t at least text her mom once a week, she all but guaranteed an unannounced visit to check that Maya still had a pulse.
But there was nothing. Radio silence.
Maya had disappeared off the face of the earth, and no one had tried to find her?
Was it Bell who had done this? Had he stripped her out of her former life not just physically, but by removing all evidence that she’d ever been there in the first place? Had he made them forget her?
The sad part was that blaming Bell was the best scenario. The other she couldn’t even think about, because it hurt her all over. Stomach, chest, back, heart, everywhere. And when that happened, she would have to put her phone down and try not to cry. She hated crying.
Sometimes she’d surf the web just to remind herself that there was still life outside the iron bars of the circus. That the world hadn’t just disappeared off its own face. That life still went on.
But not for her. Life had left her behind, just like Derrick.
Friday came around again, and the faire and circus opened for business. The crowd stayed relatively mellow most of the day, but Bell managed to get a good net of customers into his tent once people got off work early.
She waited until his most recent customer walked out, a slightly confused wrinkle in his forehead. Then Maya ducked into the tent, tugging her skirt down. She didn’t think she would ever stop worrying that everyone could see her ass when she leaned over.
“Have you plotted enough tortures to constitute a circus routine yet?” Maya asked.
“Impatient?” Bell asked.
“No,” Maya said. “Your last customer didn’t look happy.”
“That happens, as you recall,” Bell replied. “Yet so few customers demand money back. Perhaps they sense the ring of truth.”
Fortune Page 9
