“What’s the point!” She threw up her hands, her bracelets jangling. “Always I am asked the same questions. Does he love me? Will I be rich? When will I die? How do I defeat my enemies? How do I solve my problems? Questions, questions, questions! I’m tired of giving the same answers!”
“Just one question, then,” I said.
She pushed her crystal ball aside and leaned across the table.
“I’ll give you an answer if you give me a question I’ve never been asked.”
Which probably ruled out every question I had.
“You see?” she said. “You are no different.”
She slumped down in her chair, her arms folded across her chest. There were no sounds in the tent. No people except us. It felt empty. Just like the carnival outside. Just like the Librarian’s library too. All empty.
“Do Artisans ever get lonely?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “That, I have never been asked before.”
Beneath her colored scarves and stinky incense, she almost sounded sad. Must’ve been tough for her when everyone who came to see her only wanted something from her. Maybe she only wanted a friend.
I walked over to the empty chair at her table and sat down.
“Ah, Boy of Destiny,” she said. “You understand compassion. There’s hope for you yet.”
“Why do you keep calling me that? Boy of Destiny. It’s not my name.”
“Dramatic flare.” She paused. “And yet, there is something curious about you…a great secret…hidden mysteries, waiting to be revealed.”
A peculiar look came into her bright, gray eyes like she was looking at me but seeing something else. She hugged her crystal ball closer to her and caressed its surface.
“Very well. Let us see what your future holds.”
I would’ve been lying if I’d said I wasn’t curious. A light began to glow within the crystal ball, and my stomach gave a jolt. That ball was definitely one powerful Collectible. Good thing the Ragman didn’t have it. I could only imagine what he’d do with it if he did. Those online bidding wars of his would never be the same.
That strange light faded to brown, and then it suddenly turned black.
The Fortune Teller gasped. “How tragic!”
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked.
Next, she was going to tell me that I would soon die some horrible death in a freak accident, or catch some terrible disease. When she didn’t say anything more, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I took a deep breath.
“Is it really that bad?”
“Terrible! My fingernail is chipped. Such a pity.”
My heart was still skipping beats. “Is that all?”
“In a way, yes. My crystal ball has darkened, which can only mean one thing. You have no past. Or at least no memory of it.”
Well, she was right about that, though I still didn’t see how it made any difference.
“The cup of the future is filled from the wellspring of your beliefs,” she continued. “But since you have no clear memory of your past, my crystal ball finds your beliefs to be a bit murky. I cannot see where they will lead you.”
“Then, what should I do?”
“What all people should do. Make the right choices in life, Boy of Destiny. Choose compassion instead of cruelty, mercy instead of vengeance. So you don’t know your future any more than you know your past. Who cares? Knowledge isn’t wisdom! Too many people seek one when they really should seek the other.”
Just then, the tent flap opened and Deeter rushed in. He had a huge grin on his face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but when he saw the Fortune Teller, he jerked to a stop right there in front of her table.
“Whoa,” he said, and his mouth stayed hanging open. He must have realized who the gypsy lady truly was same as I did.
“Did you lose him?” I asked. “Did you get rid of the creepy clown?”
“Yup. Left him wandering around inside the house of mirrors.”
“Are you sure?”
Something didn’t feel right. It sounded so simple and easy. Too easy.
“Absolutely,” Deeter said. “It’ll be a long time before he finds his way out of there. And look what I pinched off him before I ditched him.”
From the back pocket of his pants, Deeter handed me a paperback copy of Shakespeare’s play Richard the Third.
“I’ve seen this book before,” I said. “In the Librarian’s library. The Professor’s student had it. So did Mrs. Hiddleburg in the park. But why?”
The tent flaps opened again, and in came Sweet Pea.
“There you two are!” she said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I found the Magic Eight Ball! It’s on a prize shelf at a game booth. The only way to get it is to win it. I tried my best, but I’m terrible at throwing. So I thought that Rookie should try since his aim is so good….”
Her voice faded when she saw the Fortune Teller. Then she just stared.
The Fortune Teller seemed amused by the reactions she was getting. There was a twinkle in her eyes, and her lips twitched as if she was keeping down a grin.
“Well, Boy of Destiny,” she said, “it seems our conversation must end.”
“Thanks for your help,” I said. “I can’t pay you….”
“Ercgh! If I’d wanted money, I would have demanded payment up front. Oh, one last word of advice.” She motioned at the copy of Richard the Third. “I think you’ll find Shakespeare’s Richard the Second was a much better play. Certainly much more useful. Especially on stage.”
Then she finally did grin.
“Um, thanks.” I turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
Sweet Pea led us through the twists and turns of the carnival until we arrived at the basketball hoop toss, where players had three chances to throw the basketball through the moving hoop in order to win.
“Ugh, not basketballs again,” I muttered.
Inside the booth, the Carnie waved his arms at us.
“Step right up, kids!” he said. “Have a try! Three balls to win!”
“How did he get here?” I whispered to Sweet Pea. “I thought he was at the entrance ticket booth.”
“He’s the Carnie. He can appear anywhere he wants within the carnival’s boundaries.”
“Easy win, kids! Come on over!” he shouted.
Then he noticed Sweet Pea.
“Ah! Went to get your friends to help you? Good strategy, little lady!” He offered me a basketball. “How about you, kid? Come win a prize!”
My gaze drifted to the prize rack filled with stuffed bears and toy dolls. But the more I looked at the prize rack, the more worried I got. Sweet Pea must have noticed too.
“Um, sir?” she said. “What happened to the Magic Eight Ball?”
“So you were after that particular prize, were you? Well, you’re too late, little lady. The Magic Eight Ball has already been won.”
“Please, sir, can you tell us who won it?” I asked.
“Some boy in a suit. Quiet kid. Polite. Said please and thank-you. Looked real clean and respectful.”
“A Choir Boy,” Deeter said in a low voice.
“Was there anyone with him, sir?” Sweet Pea asked.
“Nope. It was just his lonesome.”
“Can you tell us which way he went?”
“You barely missed him.” The Carnie pointed down the path. “He went that way.”
Sweet Pea looked at us. “If we can catch him before he reaches the others, we still might have a chance. Come on!”
“You kids have fun!” the Carnie yelled after us as we ran.
We didn’t have to go far. We rounded a couple of turns, then spotted the Choir Boy. He was kind of small, and his hair was black and curly, so it wasn’t Forte or Allegro.
“Staccato’s got it,” Deeter said. “This’ll be easy. I’ll put my ring on and get ahead of him. Then you two come up from behind, and we’ll corner him.”
With that, Deeter slipped on his ring and vanished.
Sweet Pea gave me a quick nod, which was the signal to move. We both crept as quietly as we could along the path, always keeping Staccato just in our sight while keeping ourselves just out of his. Finally, right by a caramel popcorn stand, Deeter removed his ring. He appeared in front of Staccato, blocking his way.
“You’ve got something that belongs to us,” Deeter said. “We called it. We saw it first. We want the Magic Eight Ball.”
Staccato stepped back, but by then Sweet Pea and I had approached from behind.
“And we demand some answers,” Sweet Pea said. “Why does the Maestro want the Magic Eight Ball now that we’re after it? That’s too strange to be a coincidence.”
“While you’re at it, you can tell us how you Choir Boys found the Artisans’ Carnival,” I said. “Did someone give you a tip?”
I expected Staccato to make a sarcastic joke or a clever insult like the other Choir Boys would have, but he only hugged the Magic Eight Ball closer to his chest. He took one last look at each of us, then rammed his way past Deeter’s block, knocking Deeter aside. Staccato was gone before Deeter even knew what hit him. So much for answers. Or the Magic Eight Ball.
There was the sound of a whistle being blown.
“Oh man,” Deeter said, “he’s calling the others! We gotta catch him quick!”
The three of us raced after Staccato, but already another Choir Boy had arrived. Staccato tossed him the Magic Eight Ball like it was a football, and they both darted farther down the path together.
“Adagio’s got it!” Deeter shouted. “If Forte or Allegro gets it, we’re doomed!”
We ran harder. When I glanced behind us, I could see Forte catching up fast. Deeter had almost reached Adagio, but as he tried to snatch the eight ball from Adagio’s arms, Forte tackled Deeter to the ground.
“Go!” Deeter yelled as he scuffled with Forte. “Take him, Pea!”
Sweet Pea was quicker than I was. She was quicker than Adagio too, and he seemed to know it. He tossed the Magic Eight Ball back to Staccato right before she could grab it.
“Take it, Staccato!” he cried. “Run!”
Staccato didn’t need any encouragement. He charged ahead like he was running for his life. Allegro joined us from a side path, but he seemed uncertain about which of us to stop first. Finally, he decided to tackle Sweet Pea since she was closest. They both landed on the ground with a crash.
So it was up to me.
Adagio started coming after me, but he wasn’t very fast. Soon Staccato and I left everyone far behind. At last, I got close enough to Staccato that I could hear him panting.
I lunged.
We fell.
And when the cloud of dust settled, as we lay there on the ground, he was holding the Magic Eight Ball with his right hand, and I was holding onto it with my left. Everyone else gathered around us and stared like no one knew what to do.
“We declare a Finder’s duel!” Deeter said. “For rightful claim on the Ragman’s behalf!”
Whatever that meant. Allegro was the first to recover his composure. He straightened his tie and brushed the dust off his jacket.
“We request a time-out to discuss the matter,” he said.
The Choir Boys circled up, whispering amongst themselves, so I went over to Deeter and Sweet Pea. The Magic Eight Ball stayed on the ground where Staccato and I had landed.
“Are you insane?” Sweet Pea asked Deeter. “Rookie can’t fight a Finder’s duel with a Choir Boy. Even if it’s Staccato. You can’t trust any of them to fight fair.”
“What’s a Finder’s duel?” I asked.
“Whenever there’s a dispute between two Finders over the rightful claim of a Collectible, the Finders can fight a duel to settle the claim,” Sweet Pea said. “They’re each allowed two Collectibles to help them fight. The last Finder left standing takes the claim.”
“A duel with magic?”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“It’ll be easy,” Deeter said. “All Rookie has to do is slip on my ring, sneak up behind Staccato, and touch him with your feather. No way’s Staccato gonna win against that!”
Sweet Pea shuffled her shoe in the dust and glanced at the Choir Boys.
“Is there any other way to get the Magic Eight Ball?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Then I’ll fight the Finder’s duel.”
Soon, the Choir Boys finished their own discussion. They walked over and stood before us.
“We accept your challenge,” Allegro said, “and we hereby issue a counterclaim on behalf of the Maestro.”
“All rules and proper traditions will be followed by both parties,” Sweet Pea insisted. “No exceptions.”
“Of course. I suggest we ask the Carnie to act as overseer.”
“Agreed.”
Allegro got that smirk back on his face. “Since we are the ones who have been challenged, we exercise our right to declare the time and place of the duel.”
He was up to something, but it was too late to back out now.
“The duel will take place at eleven o’clock tonight,” he said. “Unless that’s past the Ragdolls’ bedtime.”
The other Choir Boys laughed. Sweet Pea glared at Allegro, and Deeter gritted his teeth.
“Eleven’s fine,” I said.
“Good.” Allegro arched his eyebrow at me. “I’m glad we’re agreed. Then there’s just one last thing. The duel will take place up there.”
He pointed at the top of the Ferris wheel.
Chapter 17
The Red Kazoo
“What!” Sweet Pea cried. “You can’t have a Finder’s duel on a Ferris wheel!”
“You of all people know the rules, Sweet Pea,” Allegro said. “I could order that the Finder’s duel take place on the bottom of the ocean if I wanted. You should be grateful it’s only on the Ferris wheel.”
Grateful? Yeah, right.
In the late afternoon sun, the Ferris wheel stood out like a big, round peppermint candy—only it wasn’t made of sugar. It was made of metal beams and bars and bolts and wires, with big red and white swinging cages that swayed back and forth high up off the ground.
“Unless you Ragdolls want to call off the duel,” Allegro added, “and forfeit the Magic Eight Ball to us.”
Then he grinned, like maybe that’d been the plan all along—set the stakes so high that we’d back out and they’d win without lifting a finger.
Not if I could help it.
“The top of the Ferris wheel is fine,” I said.
The grin slipped off Allegro’s face. The other Choir Boys glanced at him as if they expected him to say something, but he didn’t. Staccato’s face turned so pale I thought he was going to be sick.
“Unless you Choir Boys want to call off the duel,” I added. “You know, forfeit the Magic Eight Ball to us?”
Deeter choked back a laugh, but Allegro didn’t seem to think it was funny. He shoved his way past me, hitting me with his shoulder as he went. The other Choir Boys followed after him. They disappeared into the labyrinth of the carnival.
“Think they’ll be back?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Deeter said. “You caught them off guard, but they’ll just go think of some other rotten trick to play. They’ll be back.”
“Then I guess I’d better think of something too,” I said.
We sat at one of the tables near the funnel cake stand and tried to come up with a plan. Well, Sweet Pea and Deeter did, at least. They emptied their backpacks of every Collectible they’d brought. Not that there were many. Still, Deeter and Sweet Pea talked about possible strategies.
“I say the Swan Feather is best,” Deeter said, munching on a funnel cake.
Not even my impending doom could dampen his appetite, apparently.
“The Swan Feather would kill Staccato for sure,” Sweet Pea said. “If they were going to fight on the ground, it’d be okay. But on the Ferris wheel? The feather would make Staccato fall.”
“N
o,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt Staccato to win some stupid duel.”
Deeter shrugged. “Whatever you say, Rookie. Staccato would hurt you in a heartbeat, though, and you’d better not forget it.”
The two of them went back to planning, but I stopped listening. My heart was pounding like I was a few minutes away from a trip to the dentist. Exactly what was Staccato planning to do to me? Turn me into a frog? Make my head explode? I didn’t know anything about this magic stuff.
How was I supposed to win a fight against it?
“Are you all right?” Sweet Pea asked.
Sweet Pea and Deeter had both paused their conversation, and now they were looking at me.
“I’m fine,” I said.
I could tell she didn’t believe me, though.
When dinner time came, we bought some tacos to eat. The Carnie was working the taco stand, and he gave me my taco for free, just in case it might be my last meal.
“You look glum, kid. You need to lighten up,” he said, as he handed me the taco. “Hey, knock-knock.”
“Huh?”
“You know, knock-knock. It’s a joke.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh. Who’s there?”
“I am.”
Seriously? Here I was, possibly a few mere hours away from a horrible death, and the Carnie was cracking knock-knock jokes at me?
He cleared his throat.
Fine. After all, he did give me a free taco. “I am who?”
“Ha! Don’t you even know who you are?”
Probably the corniest knock-knock joke in the world, but I laughed. Wasn’t much of a laugh, more like a puff of breath really. The Carnie heard it, though.
“There you are, kid.” He slapped me on the back. “Even if these next few hours are your last, that’s all the more reason to go out and enjoy them!”
“Thanks,” I said.
Half an hour before the duel, and we still didn’t have a plan to win. So we sat on a bench near the taco stand and waited. Now that it was nighttime, every souvenir tent, game booth, ride, and food stand twinkled with lights—some colored, some white, some flashing, some steady.
Kind of pretty, actually. Like stars.
Then, right next to the balloon wall, a shadow moved. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, so I turned and stared, but I didn’t see anything else.
The Crown of the Bandit King Page 13
