Carnival: Shadows And Whispers Under The Big Top (Dane Stalling & darkangel76)

[darkangel76]

(Banner by Dane Stalling)​

Oh those words kept buzzing through Felicity's head as she pushed her way through the crowd. The air smelled of sweat and tobacco and she could sense the adrenaline surging through veins as everyone waited to pour inside the tents. Her green eyes fixed upon the tallest, its red and white stripes bold and bright against the dimming sky. The lamplighters were already perched upon ladders as they lit the street lamps for the eager citizens of Faraviata. She wondered how they managed to balance so easily on those rickety, old things when the light of day was fading so very quickly. Turning toward the sun, it had already fallen below the horizon line, streaks of purple and orange marking the sky.

Felicity ran a trembling hand through her strawberry blond curls. She couldn't get those words out of her mind. Rhianna—the fortuneteller—had told her quite clearly that the time was coming, that the time was now! Well, she hadn't said it quite that plainly. But it was enough for her to decide that it was time to take action!

Rhianna's blue eyes had misted over, a far off look replacing her once serious expression. The red-head had looked deeply into Felicity's eyes, reaching out and grasping hold of her delicate hand, yanking her close. Felicity could almost count the individual freckles that smattered across the pretty girl's face, her breath warm upon her cheek, as she seemed to study her. She'd gulped, tried to breathe and then the wild girl released her and eased back into her seat.

"I see darkness, a haze, I...I can't quite make it out. You've come to a crossroads and must pick your path. Will you choose wisely, miss?"

Felicity had been able to hear her heart pounding, racing as she looked at Rhianna, those blue eyes narrowing into slits. What happened next, was foggy. But she'd nodded, slipped her some coin and ran out without further word.

Time was ticking ever forward and soon the tents would open and everyone would be allowed their final chance to peek at the marvels of the carnival. How Felicity dreaded the day those tents would come down, the wagons leaving. But she was determined. She knew just what Rhianna's words had meant! Clutching her bag close, she steeled herself—and her nerves—and waited for the moment she'd be able to speak to the man who led everything. Yes, she, Felicity Carmichael, was going to join the circus! How her parents would disapprove! But she hardly cared. As it was they probably were fretting that she was nowhere to be found. Her chaperone was more than likely being punished for not keeping a better eye on her. But didn't they know she was no longer a child? That she had her own dreams and desires?

Just then, the crowd surged forward and Felicity moved along with it. She caught sight of the banner advertizing the aerialists and her heart suddenly skipped a beat. She was in complete awe over the aerialists, how they managed to walk so high above the crowd on a wire with no net to catch them should they fall! Oh, and the man of the duo! He'd caught her eye since the first night they'd arrived. His hypnotic gaze and perfect form never once disappointing! She could watch their act again and again and never grow tired of it.

"Did you see them? Did you see?" came some giggles from behind Felicity. She refused to look back and kept her focus forward as the crowd moved, a whiff of cigar filling her nose as she walked. "Isn't he gorgeous?" came another voice. "He winked at me yesterday!" came still another.

Felicity frowned. She reminded herself that it was all part of the show. Of course the performers winked at everyone...and smiled and bowed. It was all part of it. Wasn't it? Letting the giggling girls' comments roll away, she glanced at the other advertisements as she headed toward the main tent—the one where the aerialists would be performing. She saw Rhianna's banner, another for the bearded lady. The Monster read yet another and she felt a chill run down along her spine. She'd always avoided that one, fearing what might reside inside and terrified that whatever it was might give her nightmares for years to come. Biting down on her lower lip, she wondered if she'd dare now on this final night, a night when she'd seize her chance and change her life forever.

Just then, Felicity was shoved inside the largest of the tents. Her green eyes went wide as she took in the bright colors of the flags decorating the inside. Lights flashed and music whirred. For a moment she felt dizzy and then she caught sight of the high wire and smiled. Snapping back into the moment, she paid her coin and found her seat, ready to be dazzled by the show. She was elated and excited, blood pumping hard with anticipation. After the show, she'd find the troupe's leader. She'd make him an offer. He wouldn't turn away a willing worker would he?

No. Felicity clung onto Rhianna's words just like she clung to her bag. She was ready to choose her path and she was going to run down it with all her might.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Callum Cropper wiped the loose corner of his mouth with a dark red rag. It was habit more than need, he hardly ever drooled any more outside of his cage, and that only for the spectators. He sat in his tinker wagon and hummed along with the automatic piano in the bar tent, a song written by Clown Roald about poor old Fat Man Johnny Lambert.

They're lighting the lamps now Johnny
From Angrenaj to deFum
Their oil is saving them money
They're lighting the lamps with you!

Callum thought Johnny was probably escaped to a sanatorium on the Atlantic side, but they hadn't ever found him or his body, so Doctor Manuel's Circus and Carnival of Spectacles did what it did best. They collected coin with their conceit of it. They'd had to throw away thousands of posters with Johnny's banner, after all, and Callum had found himself in Johnny's place on the posters, although Johnny's trailer went to Albert and Ava Sparrow, the new aerialists. Callum still had to sleep in the tinker wagon, but it suited him. There were no windows in it to shutter.

They're lighting the lamps with yooooouuuuu!

The song ended and Callum blew out his lantern, checked to make sure there weren't spectators wandering or making their own sneaky entertainment behind the freak tent, and heaved out the door into the thin, slippery mud. The aerialists came out of their trailer at the same time, long coats hiding their tight striped costumes. They wore boots against the mud and the litter.

"It's The Monster," Albert said, nudging Ava. Callum limped toward the freak tent. His left foot dragged, leaving a curl in the mud. Albert leaned down gracefully and pulled a carnival poster from the mud with two fingers. "You're a celebrity, Monster."

"I'm Cal when I'm not in the cage, Mr. Sparrow," he said.

"I'm a bachelor when I'm not on the wire, Mr. Monster," Albert said. He laughed and ran his thumb along his thin, straight mustache. Ava made no comment.

"Ask the Doctor who makes the fan turn in your trailer," Callum said. He had no real smile, so he saluted the performers. "I'm Cal when I'm not in the cage."

Callum slipped into the back of the tent at a loose flap and crawled into the back of his cage. He locked the immense lock behind him and pocketed the key. He stowed the rag in another pocket and thought of roasted fish, of salt pork, of buttered bread. He felt the spit pool in his loose lip and make a shining line to his coat. Albert was right. He was a celebrity of the carnival, on a full third of the bills they were posting in the next town even as they fleeced this one.

He avoided mirrors, but he couldn't avoid his face on the posters, pasted everywhere by the bill stickers. His shoulders hunched in the drawing, his spine curving into the air behind his ears and his face split almost in two by a wobbling growth he had had as long as he could remember. His teeth crowded into the cramped space of his jaw and tried to escape his mouth in all directions.

He heard a woman moan from the Doctor's therapy tent. Not so much a side show as a shadowy side business, he treated female hysteria with "Absolutely safe and reliable means, discovered in a book of science from antiquity." The euphemism caused winks and nods among the troupe, but it brought in a fantastic amount of coin, so they recommended the therapy on the rare occasions a mark asked about it.

A muddy pair of lightfinger carnival brats hurried by the cage, dragging a woman's travelling-bag between them. Callum's arm shot out and snagged the bag and shook it from their hands.

"Get out you thieving rats!" He hissed at them, "Stick to wallets and watches. You'll bring the coppers in!"

The children disappeared, squealing and Callum pulled the bag close. It was fine, the leatherwork expensive and the brass fittings shiny. He had no time to move the bag to a safe place before the late night rush of gawkers so he slid it around to the side of the cage where he could keep an eye on it.

He startled when Sadie from the next booth curtsied in front of his cage and stroked her beard. "Evening, Cal."

"Evening, Sadie. You're looking lovely this evening."

"Thank you," she said, "and you look like the souls of the damned are tormenting some other bastard. You're a philosophical monster this evening."

"Yes," he said, "it's puzzling that things fingers can do are frustrated by the face over the fingers."

"You do have beautiful hands, Cal. Hide them. The crowd's coming in."

 

[darkangel76]

The gas lamps were starting to dim and the din of the crowd was slowly beginning to quiet into a low and dull murmur. Felicity could still hear the beating of her heart as it thudded beneath her breast, her breaths quick and short as her anticipation grew. She knew the show would be starting soon and that meant the delightful duo of aerialists would soon make their appearance. How she longed to see Albert once more as he flawlessly walked along that high wire. Her green eyes flitted upward, catching a small glimpse of that thin cable causing her breath to hitch. Oh, she might faint, if she wasn't careful.

As Felicity took in the spectacular sight high above, she was certain no man could do it better than Albert Sparrow or as marvelously! And the very idea that she might get the chance to even speak to him once she joined the troupe—assuming their leader had no objections to her tagging along...oh, she'd do her share once brought on board; she was a hard worker—made her heart flutter. Her face suddenly felt hot and she pondered the idea of loosening the strings of her corset. Abominable thing made it hard to breathe.

Turning to where she'd set her suitcase down, Felicity suddenly gasped in shock and horror. The thing had been there but a moment ago, however it was no longer where she'd set it! Panic filled her and she tried to think on what to do! The case had been filled with her most precious belongings—clothes, various necessities and things she didn't wish to forget. This was an absolute horror! A fiasco of the very worst kind!

The lights were getting lower and an eerie hush suddenly came over the excited crowd. But Felicity could no longer enjoy the show. The scent of the lavender soaps she used filled her nose, but it provided no comfort. It only served to further her despair. How could she enjoy Albert's act now? She couldn't. Not when everything was suddenly going so terribly, terribly wrong!

Meanwhile, just outside the large tent, Ava stood next to Albert, a smug grin plastered across her flawless face. She heaved a heavy sigh and held up a smudge looking glass for one final glance at her face. She scowled as she fixed a dark curl with her free hand. Glancing over at Albert, her grin broadened.

"You're a dreadful brute when you want to be," Ava teased. She lightly elbowed Albert's side and then set the looking glass down. She gave a soft huff knowing there wasn't any more she could do. Her make up and hair would have to do. "You know the pitiful creature can't help it." She laughed as she spoke. Clearly there was no sincerity in any of her words. "Not everyone is as dashing as you." She paused a moment and turned only to see one of the many banners with Cal's face drawn all over it. She cringed. "Still..." she went on, her voice trailing. "I suppose everyone has their place." Ava smiled, her teeth white against her red-painted lips. "And ours is up there. Always will be." She gave Albert a wink and readied herself to enter the tent for their show.

Back inside the tent, Felicity was on the verge of hysterics. She'd already paid her money and the show was about to begin! How she longed to see Albert's farewell act in Faraviata! Her last night in her hometown! But, she had to find her suitcase! It was of utmost importance if she was to put her plan into action. Devastated, but determined, she gripped the sides of her pale ruffling skirts and had to excuse herself from her seat.

"Excuse me...so sorry...pardon me..." Felicity whispered, her face beet red and sheepish. Several people gave her harsh glares as she made her way through the row of seats and out into the aisle where she could make a very reluctant exit.

Felicity tugged on a reddish curl and sniffled. This had turned into the worst night of her life! Rhianna had told her that she'd be coming to a crossroads and she just knew that meant she was destined to be with this carnival troupe. She was ready! She was willing! She was...standing before the tent labeled 'The Monster'. She shivered noticeably. Glancing back and forth, she wondered if she should dare go inside. She'd told herself that she would on the final night. After all, if she were to join this troupe, she'd have to meet this 'monster', perhaps even talk with him! Digging deep and finding her courage, she took a step closer toward 'The Monster'. With a shaking hand, she reached for the tent flap, the canvas stiff against her palm. She swallowed hard, but there was no turning back. Placing some coin in the hand of the overseer, she pressed forward and entered the darkness of the tent where her eyes were just barely able to make out a cage.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Albert Sparrow climbed the rope ladder with what he hoped was a roguish determination. The posters said that the aerialist laughed at death and he wanted to look the part. Although the act was performed on the wire, Albert sensed that this was the part of it that showed off his form most flatteringly. He climbed like a dancer, smooth and precise, the tight uniform hiding almost nothing. Ava followed, three rungs behind.

Albert reached the top disc and stood on it with a flourish and a dazzling smile. He took a bow and the crowd burst into applause as if he had done some feat of skill rather than just climbing a ladder and smiling. Style always won out over skill, and beauty won out over style.

He remembered being in the crowd as a boy, having crept in under the edge of the tent. He felt anonymous then, but now he knew that nobody in the Big Top was anonymous. He could see each face, the two boys hiding under the seats, the man with the discolored waistcoat. He saw each face, each woman's face looking at him with admiration, every single one, except... A redheaded dream of a girl had her back turned to him! She was walking out on the show, just when he'd made his entrance.

"You've lost an admirer," Ava said in his ear, "Pity."

Albert stepped out onto the wire. This part he could do in his sleep, but he wobbled a little to give the crowd a thrill. He walked to the other end of the wire, picked up a cunningly fashioned metal rose and placed it between his teeth. The brass shone and sparkled in the lime-lights and he heard sighs from the crowd. Ava met him halfway, opened her parasol and leaned in behind it as though they were going to kiss.

Their faces close, Albert said, "I'm going to get that admirer back. You'll see." He wobbled a little.

----

Callum reached into his mouth and pulled out the metal plate that covered the cleft in his palate. It helped him speak without a monstrous hissing and bubbling, but he was a monster in the cage, so he put the plate away in a pocket and licked the sore flesh where the metal had touched the soft gum of his mouth.

The tent flap opened and he hunched into a corner and began reciting the names of the planets, the names of all the flowers and trees he could think of, great long passages of poems by the ancient cow-boy poets. All of it came out unintelligible, babbling wet flappings. He saw a slim, backlit woman hesitate at the entrance, afraid, her head haloed in fiery hair. He leaned out of the light, waited for her to come close enough to see him. This was the simplest thing to do, and the one that sent spectators scrambling backward, falling on the straw covered dirt floor as often as not. When she was close enough to smell her lavender scent, he leaned over so the light from a high gap in the tent fell across his face. He spoke. The words not frightening in themselves,

These thoughts exhilarated me and led me to apply with fresh ardour to the acquiring the art of language. My organs were indeed harsh, but supple; and although my voice was very unlike the soft music of their tones, yet I pronounced such words as I understood with tolerable ease. It was as the ass and the lap-dog; yet surely the gentle ass whose intentions were affectionate, although his manners were rude, deserved better treatment than blows and execration.

He did not remember which book the passage came from, only that he loved the meaning in it, like it had been written just for him. It sounded abominable, though, each word split between hissing and dripping, split like his face. It made the saliva quiver off his lip and spray the ground just outside his cage.

 

[darkangel76]

The lights were bright and hot, though Ava knew her make up wouldn't smear. It never did. For all the shows she'd done, she never once faltered, never once had not been that picture of perfection. She arched a brow at Albert's words, a tiny smirk crossing her red lips. Oh, the man was truly emboldened tonight. Her dark eyes flitted down to where that girl had sat, her slender frame rushing down the emptied aisle and out the main entrance. Albert never backed away from a challenge. It was what made him the man—the performer, the artist—he was. Whoever that girl was, she'd be putty in Albert's hands once he found her and no doubt the envy of every girl watching them now.

Pity he'd have to let her down easy once they packed up to leave.

Ava's smile broadened as she spun in a graceful circle, the parasol allowing her to find her center. Calm and cool, she turned away from Albert and made coquettish gestures toward the crowd below.

~~~

It was darker than she thought as she stared into the tent housing the cage. But Felicity was still able to see its shadow as the light from the lamps lit behind her glinted off the shiny metal. Her nerves were beginning to falter when she heard someone from behind snicker and comment that she'd be too afraid to enter. A muscle flexed in her jaw and suddenly one foot stepped in front of the other. Before she knew it, she was inside and very much alone with...'the monster'. A chill ran along her spine, her flesh breaking out into goose bumps. Her tiny fingers clutched at her purse and she wondered why she'd chosen that moment of all times to meander into this wretched tent. She was afraid and could be watching Albert that very moment! But no. Instead she was in a cold and dark tent listening to...

The hisses and burbling were unmistakable. Words. Felicity heard words. She strained her ears and tried to make them out as she listened. She knew those words or, she thought she did. They came from a book her governess had read to her when she'd been but a child. The story had given her nightmares at first, the woman chastised for reading such things to a fanciful girl with a too vivid imagination. But that hadn't been the end of it. No. On a particularly cold and dreary night, the story had returned and those nightmares had turned into something else—wonder.

Felicity took a step closer, her heart racing as she forced herself to move closer. She'd show that boy she wasn't afraid. Her free hand clutched her skirt, gripping it so tightly that her muscles began to ache.

Monster...monster...what manner of monster was it that hissed and wheezed and rambled of things she knew? She...Felicity turned her head slightly and caught sight of her suitcase. Her green eyes widened and she looked straight at the cage. The monster had stepped forward, his face now fully illuminated by the light from the entrance from which she'd come! She gasped audibly, her eyes trying to drink in just what it was she was seeing. Never had she seen a face such as this! She stumbled back a step, then two. But her suitcase... She saw it. It was there! Her lower lip began to tremble. She tucked her purse into one of the pockets of her skirt and began wringing her hands together frantically. This was a dilemma! Just what was she to do?

Felicity glanced over her shoulder. The entrance was so close. She could hear the low chatter of the people waiting in line. Her green eyes caught those of the boy who'd teased her, who'd mocked that a girl such as herself wouldn't be able to stand any time alone with a monster! Facing forward again, she heard those almost incomprehensible words. They reminded her of such wonderful times. Times before her eyes had been fully opened to what her life would soon become. Back home, her parents had a list of suitors waiting for her to call on them. None of them appealed. None of them would understand her want for more...for life!

Felicity eyed the suitcase, though that monster was far too close to it for her comfort. Teeth chattering, she edged closer and tried her best not to faint. "H-how..." she began as she pointed at her bag. Her eyebrows furrowed and she winced stepping back as panic began to take over. "My...my bag." She wasn't sure if she should scream or cry, so a soft sob bubbled up and she brought her hands to her face.

Everything was going completely wrong! This was a disaster! She was a disaster!

 

[Dane Stalling]

The girl wasn't like other spectators, grinning, laughing at the thrill of an unexpected horror. Callum almost pitied her. She was truly afraid, a distress that he could almost taste. Yet she stayed. She was a beautiful creature, fine featured and delicate, hair like a smoldering autumn, and standing ready to bolt like a deer in a bog.

Then she gestured at the bag and murmured something.

"Is it yours?" He said, but it came out garbled. He fished for the plate and his rag.

It was a lady's bag, expensive. He could smell the leather, and it matched the girl in front of him. She was no shop girl or simple tart, but a young lady wealthy enough for the most uncomfortable of clothing. Callum had seen his share of lady thieves though, women whose hand wringing and flirting and fits of fainting had relieved countless men of both virtue and coin.

He pressed the plate home with his tongue.

"If it's your bag, you'll have to prove it, ma'am," he said, "Come close. I'm no harm except to your digestion, maybe."

He reached through the bars and nudged the bag forward, watched her watch it.

"Come put your wrist in my hand. Describe something in that bag, something unique so that there can be no mistaking. Then open it, take out that item and show it to me. If any detail is false, I'll yell thief and hold you. If the thing is as you describe it, then I will free you and welcome to your luggage, ma'am with my apologies. Try not to leave it where little lightfingers can fly away with it again."

----

The exclamations of the crowd did little to please Albert as the act progressed. Ava's teasing had him fuming. His somersault on the wire was among the most striking and graceful he had ever performed and the audience was rapt. When he jumped and flipped over Ava and landed on the wire again safely, the startled screams from the crowd brought no pleasure. Three ladies fainted, and all he could think of were the curls bouncing away from him, the slim ankle that had peeked from the fine, long dress.

He took Ava's hand as they stood on the high disc, bowed with her, and slid down the support rope. He trotted out the door, his back to the applause.

Wrapped in his coat, he found Barker Clive in front of the big top. "A woman with red curls left not five minutes ago. Did you see her?"

Clive grinned and tipped his hat like a beggar. "Did a bird escape the Sparrowhawk?" he said. He sniffed a tiny gold flower in his own lapel. "It's hard to remember with all the flocks flying hither and yon, fainting for a wink from the wireman. But what do you have for me? I'd rather fall off a cliff than endure one of your winks."

Albert scowled, but pulled a round coin from his coat pocket and tossed it into the barker's hat.

Clive matched his scowl. "One for a whore, three for a farmer's daughter, and seven for a lady. You can't catch a money girl with thrift."

Albert raised his fist at Clive, but only shook it. He added six coins to the battered hat.

"I had a dream once," Clive said, looking off into the distance as if he wasn't speaking to Albert at all. "A little red bird fluttered out of her nest. She spoke to the wise owl and went to watch sparrows fly. Then she went to a place songbirds should never go. An empty space on the map where cartographers cheat and explorers disappear."

"Damn you, man," Albert said, "Speak plain."

"Riddles are free. Two for hints. Three for a hand pointing in a helpful direction."

Albert growled and slapped three coins in Clive's palm. Clive closed his hand around the coins, pointed his finger right between Albert's eyes, then turned so it pointed at Callum's Banner.

"The monster," Albert said, and left, taking long strides.

 

[darkangel76]

Felicity heard scuffles, like feet shuffling along hard ground. She slowly brought her hands away from her face, letting one drop to her side while the other covered her heaving chest. Oh, the monster was fumbling with something, her heart pounding hard as her green eyes widened and fixed upon his hands as they moved. Her head tilted for a moment as she watched them, eyes blinking away the tears as she studied their fine features. Just then, he reached out and took hold of her wrist, his grip firm though not hard. He pulled her closer and her eyes flitted away from those strangely sculpted hands and looked directly into his. She had all she could do not to shout, to scream, every instinct urging her to run and get as far away as she could as he held onto her. But her feet wouldn't move. Her entire body was frozen to the spot and she struggled to find her voice.

Trying to breathe, her cheeks slightly chilled from her tears, Felicity glanced over at her suitcase. Oh, she was so close to retrieving it, to having her life returned to her. Maybe if she just gathered up her thoughts and wits, this could all be over. After all, his request was simple enough. She knew the entire contents held within that bag. She'd packed it herself only hours ago and she needed it if she was going to put her plan into action. She had to this. There was no more time to waste on fears and hesitation.

"I..." Felicity began, but her mouth felt dry, almost sticky. She swallowed once, then again. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes and silently counted to three. "There's a book, the c-cover soft leather—brown—the edges w-worn." Her eyes opened and she looked away from the monster, unable to hold that horrific and penetrating gaze. "In g-gold letters it says 'Metamorphoses' and...there's a b-bookmark." She turned to look back into his face, that hideous face that made her blood run cold. Wincing, her eyes drifted down to where he held her wrist, such fine hands to go with such an ugly face. "It's placed at my favorite story," she went on. "Eros and Psyche."

~~~

Ava curtsied, taking in the entirety of the crowd's uproarious applause. The tent was filled with beaming faces all looking up at her and Albert, but her partner was already making his way down to the ground below. She chuckled lightly and soon followed after him. He was clearly unnerved that one of their spectators had made an early exit, hadn't even watched their performance. Knowing Albert like she did, the man would be relentless in his pursuit and the girl would be helpless to resist. After all, who could resist such a talented rogue?

"Miss Sparrow! Miss Sparrow!" came the shouts of several young men as Ava made her way to the back of the tent. She smiled and blew kisses and even let one of the men take her hand so that he could plant a firm kiss upon her hand. Being the coy vixen she was, she batted her eyes and lowered them, peering up through thick lashes. Her smile was sweet, demure and promised dark things if he decided to pay her extra special attention.

Giving the crowd a final wave, Ava headed out of the tent. She saw Barker Clive standing there looking rather smug, his grin wide like he knew something—then, the man always knew something. Her eyes locked onto his for a moment and then narrowed into dark slits. Turning her head, she saw Albert running off to find his prize. She smiled and laughed lightly, almost matching the tinkling sound of the calliope that echoed above the crowd.

"I'm sure he'll have quite the competitive match," Ava joked, hand moving to touch her hair, but everything seemed to be as it should. She then looked up into the sky dotted with stars and a bright, silvery moon. "The night is young," she continued. "I dare say, I very well might miss this town." She nodded at Clive and strolled back to her trailer to freshen up.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Barker Clive grinned at Ava and his gold tooth caught the glare of the flood-lamps. He was a man with his eyes open, and profiting from it. All was right in his universe just now.

He called out to Ava as she crossed the yard to her trailer. "A wager, Miss Sparrow? Half what Albert paid me says he wasted all of what he paid me." It was a rash bet, wild, but glittering luck spun out from his fingertips, wafted out of the aether to gather around him. He felt it embrace him, it made him invulnerable.

"Come now," he pleaded, "Give a poor jabberjaw a bit of sport."

----

Callum could feel the blood pulsing through the girl's veins, her heart pounded and he was surprised he couldn't hear it. He knew as soon as she let him take her arm that she was an innocent, the bag was hers. No thief would allow herself to be boxed in so. A thief would have invented an excuse to leave, then sneaked in the back for another go at the bag, but never this.

He was ashamed of the dirt on his knuckles. He kept clean when he wasn't working his cage, but a little mud and dust helped thrill the crowds. Holding her white wrist, his hand looked dangerous and sinister against her pure ivory.

He was about to release her when the tent flap slapped open.

----

"Unhand her, monster!" Albert yelled, grabbing a thick tent peg from the ground. The monster had her neck in his gnarled grip. The line from the stage melodrama worked as Albert remembered and he girl fell back, shrieking, but free of the monster. A dashing entrance, indeed. He beat the cage with the tent peg, rattling the bars. He swore at the monster, jabbed the sharp club at him as he cowered to the back of the cage, his hands over his ears.

"You're evil enough without enticing young ladies into your filthy den!" He said, "Go back to buggering the livestock, monster! They're your equals."

He dropped the tent peg and swept Felicity off the straw floor into his arms and strode out of the tent to the applause of the wide eyed crowd outside.

----

Callum opened his eyes to see Albert carry the girl off, separated from her bag again. He pushed it back further so it wouldn't be seen, and backed into a corner. He knew what was coming.

The first spectator in after Albert left was a bully boy, seventeen maybe, and thick. He picked up the tent peg and beat the cage around Callum, yelling at him in the same manner as Albert had. The attendant had to come in and make him stop, it was the next spectator's turn.

----

The Doctor stood back from Callum's tent in his still way, his eyes blank white discs behind his round spectacles. He wore white, a spotless long surgeon's smock, white pants, white shoes. He was dazzling when the sun was out, and even now in the dark of the wee hours, he shone in the flood-lamps.

He rubbed his sore wrist and watched the crowd pay their coin for a cage rattle. Men, women, children paid, then yelled and screamed and beat at the cage, and when their turns were done, some of them joined the back of the line to do it again. He could hear Callum bellowing and weeping clear back at the end of the line. It had been like this for hours. That Callum was a genius. Coin flowed like water into the monster's safe box. The Doctor would give him a pretty bonus for this. He sighed then, and went to the tent flap attendant.

"Finish out the line and shut down for the night. The other performers are complaining that they can't sleep."

The attendant pulled woollen plugs out of his ears. "Sorry sir?"

"Finish."

"Yes, sir." He put the plugs back in and put a saw-horse behind the last person in line.

 

[darkangel76]

A cool breeze wafted through the yard, the smell of sugar and perfume heavily in the air. Treats were clearly being doled out in droves on this final night of theirs in Faraviata. The patrons wanting to get their fill of circus fare before it left for the season. Ava smirked as the distinct aroma of funnel cake struck her. The merchants would do well tonight. She glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes finding Barker Clive's for a moment before she finally turned around.

"Sport?" Ava teased. "The only sport you know is running your mouth." She gave him a wink and slowly walked back over to the man. The lights were hot as they shone down, a glittering sheen of sweat forming along her perfect brow. "Still..." Her hand reached down into the purse she'd attached to her belt about her waist. Slowly, she retrieved a large silver coin and pressed it into the man's palm. "I suppose there's some merit to a sport like that." She paused and backed away. "Provided you exercise daily."

~~~

"P-please, sir," Felicity begged. Her green eyes glistened with tears as she glanced over at her bag. She desperately wanted her things, for this frightening moment to end. She knew he'd find the book if he looked. It was exactly as she described. The monster's grip was just beginning to loosen, her hopes that she just might be reunited with her belongings when suddenly the flap opened behind her, the light from outside spilling in.

Felicity turned to see what was happening, the monster's grip suddenly tightening as he pulled her close—too close. His hand moved about her neck and she felt his hot breath brush against her ear. Panic flooded her instantly, the urge to scream rapidly rising. But he still had her bag! Her things! She needed them! There was no way she'd go back home! As her eyes drifted toward the entrance, the tent flap hoisted up for all the onlookers to see inside, she suddenly caught sight of the aerialist...just what was he doing there?

And why?

Felicity's heart skipped a beat as her entire body trembled against the monster. She hadn't expected to see Albert at all having missed his show entirely due to unfortunate circumstances. And how formidable he looked as the light formed a shadowy halo about his strong body! He looked like the hero from her faerie books or perhaps more like those from the myths of old. Regardless, he seemed troubled by her situation as he glared at them both and suddenly lunged forward.

The monster immediately let her go and Felicity stumbled backwards onto the ground, the straw softening the fall. Dazed, terrified, she watched Albert assault the monster, luring him back into his cage until he stood victoriously before him. The monster made no attempt to fight back...what monster did not fight? Shaking, Albert reached out and helped her up and soon escorted her out of the darkened tent, the crowd of onlookers flocking toward the monster's cage so that they could have their turn jeering and rattling the cage.

But her bag...it was still back there with him—the monster.

Felicity looked up at Albert as they quickly moved away from the monster. Her heart was racing, her cheeks growing warm. Never had a man properly escorted her before, let alone just carried her off. A part of her felt like a princess and being in the arms of Albert Sparrow no less, but she could hear the loud humming chatter of the crowd that had gathered about the monster's tent. She wasn't quite sure what had happened back there or why, though it had garnered the attention and applause of oh so many. Albert looked so handsome as he held onto her, like she was something precious or...just that look on his face. It made her insides feel warm.

In the shadows, Felicity saw Rhianna look her way. Her flaming red hair flew across her face as she stared and then suddenly bolted as if she'd been frightened by someone or something. Odd. But then came the whispers.

"You see that, Astrid?" came a voice full of awe and wonder. The girl's reddish hair was a stark contrast to the one linked with her arm, though the two clearly shared the same face—twins.

"I see," said the one addressed as Astrid. She arched a brow and flicked her platinum blonde hair. "Looks like our Mr. Sparrow has found a princess." The other girl giggled. "Oh hush, Kenna. You're fawning."

Felicity did her best to ignore the whispers and stares. She bit down on her lower lip for a moment before finally finding the nerve to speak. "Mr. Sparrow, I..." she began, her thoughts still dwelling on the monster...her bag...on everything. Unsure of what to do, but enthralled to be so close to her favorite aerialist, she decided it best to just thank him. "Thank you, sir."

~~~

On the outskirts of the carnival a dark carriage came to a halt. The door flung open and a young girl slowly stepped out. She smiled broadly as she looked upon the magnificent tents, the red and white stripes gleaming against the night sky as the gas lamps lit them up in all their glory. Her blue eyes swiftly moved to the advertisement banner, scanning the words over and over again.

"My mind has been made up," the girl said as she tugged on a long strand of platinum blonde locks.

"But miss, surely there are better avenues..." a young man began to interrupt, his head bowed slightly.

"No. This..." she said, a slender finger pointing to the fine print regarding scientific therapy remedies for female hysteria. "It will please me to invest my father's money in this," she stated.

"But Miss Lucas!" the man argued.

The girl held up a finger as if she were hushing the man. "I want to speak to this Dr. Manuel. Let's let him know that he has someone interested in the pursuits of his research." She smiled sweetly and got back into her carriage.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Albert laid Felicity down on the ornate divan in his trailer. He soaked a soft cloth in cool water and knelt next to her. He dabbed her forehead with it gently. "This divan was rescued from an opium den in Singapore," he said, and touched the deep red fabric with the tips of his fingers. "It's almost too precious to sit on."

He saw dirt on the girl's wrist where the monster had held her and he washed it carefully. He was almost disappointed not to find a bruise. The drama of the rescue was diminished, but only a little. There was dirt on her throat too, and he caressed her neck with the cloth, then a towel, then his fingers.

"You're safe here," he said, shrugging off the long coat and tossing it over his table. "The lock on the door is strong, but I don't expect the brute to come around as long as I'm here to protect you."

He tilted his head and looked into her eyes. "You are the most fetching creature I've seen since..." He wondered how long would sound appropriate. "...well, since... ever. It would be a crime to leave a blemish on such a perfect girl. In fact, I would be remiss in my courtesy if I didn't make every effort to know that you are uninjured. You need to be thoroughly examined, pretty. Tell me your name."

The curtain blew with a soft gust of wind. A man's reputation could benefit from a window kept ajar.

Albert drew a finger along the girl's cheek with one hand and loosened the bow on the back of her corset with the other.

----

Doctor Manuel filed his nails carefully, part of a nightly ritual, when a knock came on his trailer door. A man stood there, a driver perhaps, a nervous family servant of some sort. He had a fraying bowler in his hands, and he nervously picked at a loose string.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but my Lady, Miss Lucas is possessed of a desire to, ah, satisfy her curiosity about..." The man swallowed. "...your therapy, sir."

"I have no more appointments in Faraviata. We leave at dawn." The Doctor's glasses reflected the man's face. "The therapy is strenuous and I am tired. If she is well enough to travel, we will be in Kaland tomorrow and I will take patients the day after."

"Oh, sir, she doesn't need you to, ah, exert yourself on her behalf. She is quite healthy and possessed of all of her faculties, excepting perhaps an excess of financial wisdom and moral discretion. She only wishes..."

"I wish simple conversations could be managed by simple people." Stella Lucas held the edge of her dress just off the muddy grass of the field and stepped into the Doctor's trailer uninvited. "I wish to talk to you, Doctor. I have a fortune burning a hole in a dreary bank vault and coin in banks is boring. I'd like to talk with you about something much more exciting than coin in banks." She checked a chair for dust and sat. "I'll have champagne."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows as the girl swept in, but he closed the door, leaving the man outside. "I have tea, Miss Lucas, and whiskey."

"Stella." she said, "Three spoons of honey."

The Doctor thought if anyone took honey in whiskey, this might be the girl to do it, but deep pockets had ticklish lawyers that might try to prove that an impressionable heiress under the influence of liquor wasn't responsible for her contracts. He opened the tap on his boiler and drew hot water into a plain white bone china pot with a careful measure of oriental red tea. "Your approach to the disposition of coin appeals, Miss Stella. How can I interest you further?"

"Explain this therapy of yours. How does it work?"

"The principle is simple," the Doctor poured into a teacup that matched the pot and set it in front of the girl. "Some women suffer from an excess of hysteria, a kind of essence that collects in the womb. If the essence finds no means of escape, then she may have troubling imaginings, the most remarkable fantasies. She may have nervous compulsions of various severities, from grinding of the teeth to embracing bed-pillows believing them to be phantom-lovers. In advanced cases a kind of mania emerges, a very perilous abandonment of morals and decency."

Stella sipped, covered a grin with the edge of her cup. "I've heard it's an appalling affliction. What does one do to ease it?"

The doctor found an old book on his neat shelf and pulled it out, The Chirurgeon's guide to the Vexed Womb.

"I treat these poor creatures with a variety of womb stimulation therapies that coax the hysteria out of the body in a kind of physical crisis known as a hysterical paroxysm. The practice can be delicate and tricky, involving various and extensive digital manipulations of the patient's female organs."

Stella frowned at the cover of the book. "And the fantasies and compulsions go away?"

"Well, that's where further investigation and experimental therapies would be tremendously helpful. Relief seems to be temporary. Sometimes it lasts as long as three months..."

"Three months!" Stella laughed.

"...but more often it lasts a week or two. Sometimes only hours. The key, I believe, is in the quality of the paroxysm. If I can consistently increase the intensity of the crisis by means of some cunning device or engine, perhaps I can ease my patients' suffering for months or even years at a time."

The Doctor rubbed his wrist absently. "It would be a miraculous gift to all women given to hysteria," he said, "and to all physicians treating such patients."


----

Callum curled in the back of his cage until the big yard lights went out. His ears whistled and rang with the torturous racket of the evening and his throat burned. Finally, he took the key from his pocket, unlocked the cage and crawled out. He picked up the girl's bag and crept out of the back of the tent and crossed the yard to the tinker trailer in the shadows.

He lit a tiny oil lamp he had made himself from a 40mm artillery shell. One could still pick up brass from the Notch War amid the ruined downtowns of the South. The big city boiler silos had been primary targets and when they blew, they took entire downtowns with them. Most of the machinery had been picked over by a hundred years of scavengers, but those who could fashion their own machines could start with cruder materials and create finer devices, and more beautiful.

The flame steadied and Callum opened the bag and saw the word gleaming in the low light "Metamorphoses." He cleaned his hands carefully, never taking his eyes off the book. He opened the cover and studied the frontispiece, a print of winged Eros and innocent Psyche, nude on a hillside meeting spot, a butterfly floating over her head. He turned to the place where the bookmark kept the girl's place and he read the story of the monster and the beauty, about palaces and jealous sisters, and trysts in the dark. Always in the dark.

He closed the book, put it back in the bag. In fairy stories, the monsters became beautiful in the end, but it didn't happen that way in the world, though, Callum thought, bitterly. In the world, even the beautiful became monsters in the end. Everyone was a monster.

 

[darkangel76]

Astrid's eyes, cool and blue, were like shimmering jewels as she watched the renowned aerialist whisk the mysterious girl through the yard and away from the chattering crowd. She gave her sister's arm a tug, her blonde head gesturing that her twin's eyes should follow her own. Understanding her sister's actions—in a way only twins could—Kenna obeyed and easily spotted Albert as he carried the girl off toward what seemed to be his personal trailer. She bit down on her lower lip, a soft giggle bubbling up that she immediately stifled with her hand. Astrid just narrowed her eyes and nudged her sister gently.

"Shh..." Astrid chided, clearly not wanting to rouse suspicion that they were somewhat stalking their idol. Though the two of them were fairly well known as followers of the troupe, she didn't want their presence causing an unnecessary stir. Kenna just blushed then, nodding as Astrid started to take long strides in Albert's general direction.

"Honestly, you've nothing better to do?" came a soft voice like velvet, liquid honey as it melted into hot tea. A young girl, arms crossed, was leaning against a wooden beam that held one of the other tents erect. Her dark, wizened, eyes were fixed upon the two girls as they tried to move past her, their noses suddenly going high into the air. But the dark-eyed girl just chuckled softly; the crow perched quietly on her shoulder suddenly letting out a shrill caw causing the two to jump. She just shook her head, dark waves spilling over slim shoulders as she reached up to stroke the black bird's breast.

"Damn it," Astrid hissed when she lost sight of Albert, her eyes focusing on the dark-haired girl who grinned devilishly her way. With a flourish, she let her hooded cape billow in the breeze as a trace scent of cinnamon wafted through the air. And then she was gone, having moved behind the tent she'd been standing in front of, revealing the banner advertising its show: Wondrous Illusions Made Real!

"Don't let Cassie bother you," Kenna whispered soothingly to Astrid, a gentle hand moving to her sister's arm.

Astrid just sniffed. "I've got more on my mind than Cassidy Haskel," she spat, her eyes fixed on the poster for the illusionist.

Kenna frowned and ran a hand through her auburn hair. She could tell that Astrid was lying. Her sister was furious. Fuming that that vagrant of a girl had foiled her pursuit. But already she could see the wheels turning in her cunning sister's mind. The night was young and soon they'd be on the road. That girl, whoever she was, would be a memory and things could go back to how they were. But for now...

"Come on," Astrid stated as she headed toward the illusionist's tent. "Let's go watch the show."

~~~

Felicity bit down on her lower lip as Albert's hands worked quickly—too quickly. His voice was soft, reassuring and such sweet prose of the likes she'd longed to hear. But his manner made her shiver and she suddenly found herself recoiling away from his touch.

"That's loose enough, kind sir," Felicity said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. Her green eyes looked deeply into Albert's pleading that he stop. "I assure you that I'm uninjured. Though thank you for such swift action." Her cheeks pink, she shifted uncomfortably on the divan and began to smooth out the rumples in her skirts.

So many times she'd dreamed of Albert the Aerialist carrying her off in his arms, taking her away from the mundane everyday horrors that were her life. He'd stand up to her parents, profess his true feelings and promise her a life full of love, laughter and adventure. But right then, as Felicity sat there in Albert's presence, in his very own trailer no less, everything felt so entirely wrong. He was no doctor and how had she been fortunate enough to catch his eye? Surely this had nothing to do with the monster...

The monster. For a fleeting moment Felicity recalled the way the monster had held onto her wrist, his wheezing rasps testing her innocence in claiming her suitcase.

Which still remained with him.

"If you please, sir," Felicity spoke up. "I...I need to go."

Felicity winced slightly and looked down at the floor, afraid to look into Albert's intense gaze. Her tummy fluttered and a part of her wondered why she was giving up an opportunity to get to know such a dashing man, a fine performer, the best that Faraviata had ever seen! But, she couldn't help how she was feeling, the way everything inside her begged that she leave, get out! Of course, she'd have time for apologies later once she spoke to Dr. Manuel about joining his circus. Surely the man wouldn't mind another worker. Would he?

"Again, I thank you for your kindness. I'm certain I'll be safe now that the crowd has had its turn," Felicity added, though something was still puzzling her—how easily the monster had let her go. It was curious and strange and played right to the crowd that had sneered. "How do I undo the locks?"

~~~

Stella mused idly as she sat there drinking in everything she was learning about this Dr. Manuel's research. She sipped her drink and let out an audible sigh as she smiled against her cup. This hysteria he was so keen on ridding women of, if he only realized exactly what he was playing at. A true fortune could be made if he actually understood the female body and the female mind. Oh, this was too perfect and he was in dire need of female influence. Yes, she was the perfect counterpart in this operation. She'd see to it that his work flourished, that women everywhere were satisfied, their hysteria—oh how she laughed—dealt with in the most precise of manners. The women would flock to them, seeking them out to soothe their agony, as it burned deep to the point of unbearable!

"I dare say, good doctor," Stella chimed in, her voice like that of a tinkling music box. "If you do things right, you'll have women coming to you every day to not only alleviate their hysteria, but to prevent the build up as well." Her smile was coy, her blue eyes sharp. Her advisors blanched as they looked on, but she ignored them all. Yes, this was exactly where she wanted to be. Setting down her cup, she turned toward one very shocked advisor. "Prepare my things, we leave with the troupe. I want to travel along with this Dr. Manuel and not only invest, but oversee."

The man nodded knowing full well that once Miss Stella B. Lucas made up her mind, there was no going back.

 

[Dane Stalling]

The girl flushed so prettily, Albert thought, and she used such tired old excuses. Surely he wasn't meant to believe them! No, she had an innocent face, but she played the well-practiced and ancient game of man and woman everywhere. Pursuit, capture, halfhearted protestations, surrender.

"You're in shock, my dear, it would be tremendously unwise to go abroad in your condition," he said, "You need careful and close attention to your wellbeing."

The girl had slipped by him and was fumbling with the lock, trying to open the trailer door, ready to go into public with her corset nearly hanging open. She must not be as modest as she seemed. He moved behind her, put his hands on her shoulders gently. Her fingers fumbled the lock and he smiled. He felt the old hardness fill the front of his tights. A little look at that landscape might put an end to her objections. He pulled at the corset ribbons gently again, loosening them one by one and when the last one hung loose, he pressed himself against her back, her softness against his hardness.

"Why so quick to escape your protector, my little bird?" He spoke low into her ear, his breath blowing the fine red tendrils of hair against her face. The barker's words kept coming back to him, "You don't have to fly just yet. You're safe with me."

He slid a hand up over her left breast and squeezed.

----

The Doctor sipped a cup of hot water from his plain china and his glasses seemed to wink in the bright lamplight. The thought of preventative manipulations had never occurred to him. He felt a rush of understanding, of possibility. Science could improve humanity. Not just putting out fires, but preventing them, and he would be at the center of it, treating a most pernicious malady. Perhaps one day a treatment would even bear his name.

Miss Stella was still speaking, something about travel. "...not only invest, but oversee."

"Yes," he said, to himself, "Yes."

The man with the frayed hat noted this last in a beaten notebook and labeled the page "Proof of Assent."

He hardly noticed that Miss Stella and her entourage had gone. He had the vague sense that he had dismissed them, or that she had dismissed him, but his mind was burning with ideas. He had to talk with someone. He pulled the lever that blew the little whistle in Callum's trailer. He needed a builder. Of course, he wouldn't be able to treat all those women himself. He needed help at first- someone he could train in the therapy, someone with a good mind and nimble fingers while they worked up a device.

Callum knocked on the Doctor's door. it was late and his ears still rang dully, but the Doctor didn't call if it wasn't important.

"Come in, come in. I don't know what happened in your show today, but you netted almost as much as the big top. Of course, that will be reflected in your compensation. That's not what I want to talk about, though."

The Doctor pushed the old book at Callum. "I want you to study this. Learn the techniques and I want you to practice them. I need a helper... a handy-man to do some of the more strenuous work for me. We'll work out the details as they come up. We'll have to make arrangements about your, ahem, countenance, but that's a job for Elspeth. That's secondary. Here's the principal thing: we can make coin for life and change the world in the doing. I need you to make an engine that will produce the identical effects of the therapies in the book. One that might even improve upon the techniques described. Do you think you can do that?"

Callum looked at the cover of the old book doubtfully. It was all alchemy as far as he was concerned, duck teeth and rabbit scales. "I won't know until I read about it. Then maybe I can say whether I can fashion a device or no."

The Doctor was in high spirits. Callum could see his teeth and he rubbed his hands together like he did when he had a new act in the circus or a new freak in the show. "You're a clever sharp finger worker," the Doctor said, "You tell me any pieces you need- any gearworks or fittings and I'll get them for you. You'll make us coin swimmers, you will. Off to your tinker shed, and bring me your thinking on the road tomorrow."

The doctor dimmed his lamp and undressed carefully, hanging his white smock and pants precisely in the pressing-closet. He put on a nightshirt. His mind skipped all along the lines of his plans. He would need a test subject who could keep her mouth shut. It wouldn't do for his research to be stolen by gossipy tarts. He closed his eyes, and only then did he take off his glasses and lay them carefully on his bedside table.

----

Mairon Aubrey stood in the light of his stage, the lights dark, exactly as it was when he had an audience. Tonight he had only his sister, sitting on his far right. He pulled cards from the air, disappeared pocket-watches and made them appear again from pockets or his hat.

"I saw the slip on that one," Maya said. She was sitting in the nightmare zone, the place where the audience was most likely to catch the trick and destroy the illusion.

"You didn't see it, you heard it," Mairon said, continuing with the trick, impaling the Queen of Hearts on a spike on his draped table. The card seemed to bleed. He took it off the spike and held it up, showing it to his audience. He covered the card with his handkerchief and when he whipped it away, he had a sheep's heart in his hand. The blood slid down his forearm and dripped off his elbow.

"Ugh. Can't you just make it a bird or a frog like you did in Uskyld?"

Mairon grinned at his sister and pulled his sleeve down over the blood. "They like the gore in these old towns. Besides, it feeds the little thieves after the show. I've never had to throw one in the rubbish pit. The Great Jadú is nothing if not economical."

His smile faded. The Castor twins were about some mischief, giggling and whispering to each other outside his tent. How those girls tormented him. Flirting and propositioning him in public, then fleeing in private. Barker Clive had teased him jealously about taking his clutch of rodents to his wagon, but he had never laid a hand on either one of them. And there was a new girl lurking, dark, with a black bird. He had only caught her with the corner of his eye. She slipped away every time he turned his head toward her.

He was supposed to be the illusionist. Things ought not to disappear from him.

 

[darkangel76]

The locks were trying Felicity's patience. They weren't like the ones at home, the ones she'd mastered so well much to her parents' and chaperone's chagrin. These were something different, perhaps found from some far off place she could only hope to one day see. How she longed to see such exotic places, this Singapore Albert had only just mentioned. But that wouldn't even be remotely possible if she didn't retrieve her things, if she didn't...

His breath, Albert's breath. Felicity felt it warm and hot as it tickled her neck and then her ear causing her skin to heat and goose bumps to form. It was as if the tiny room had suddenly grown so very hot much like the days of summer. But such days had past and slowly they were getting shorter, the hours of light less and less. Her breaths hitched as she felt Albert's body, warm and hard, suddenly press up against her back. She licked her lips, her hands stilling over the locks she so desperately wished would open, flooding the room with brisk outside air and the smells of the waning street fare. But they wouldn't.

And Albert just wouldn't stop.

Felicity felt her heart begin to pound, her thoughts reeling in the moment. Shouldn't she be ecstatic, thrilled over the fact that Albert Sparrow, only the most handsome and desirable man in all of Faraviata—well, visiting Faraviata—wished to pay her such attention and affection? Perhaps on any other day, the answer might have been 'yes'. But everything felt wrong somehow and she couldn't get it out of her head. He was moving too quickly, too...

"Please," Felicity whispered, her voice wavering as her body trembled beneath Albert's touch. His hand had moved to her breast, palm splayed over the supple flesh with nothing but a bit of ruffle barring the way. He'd already loosened her corset, her dress about ready to give way and slide over her slim frame. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes finding his. "I...I need to go," she said again, fear lacing her words. Her eyes pricked with tears threatening to spill down her creamy pale cheeks, while her body betrayed and her mind longed for escape.

~~~

Stella was absolutely giddy as she left Dr. Manuel and made way toward her carriage. Her servants had already gone on ahead to start assembling her things. As it was, she'd already had a team of men and women start the preparations of packing her things and getting her traveling home ready for the trip she was certain she'd be taking. After all, a girl always needed to be one step ahead in such matters and she was never one to falter in such things. It wouldn't be long before everything would be in place and she'd be able to leave with the troupe, following along wherever they planned to go next. Yes, she'd oversee this doctor's research, invest and benefit quite handsomely. She grinned at how easy this investment business actually could be and here all her advisors said it could be tricky and risky. It was all a matter of knowing what was before you and she saw the potential here.

Oh yes, Stella saw the potential indeed.

"Everything is ready, miss," one of the servants said as he bowed.

Stella smiled and nodded. "Excellent. I shall take my leave and retire in my traveling home from this night on. We leave when the troupe leaves. We follow them and stay close at all times. I'm to be informed of every stop, no matter how brief."

The servant nodded and bowed before walking off, his face white as a sheet. Stella giggled and almost skipped off toward where her carriage was waiting for her.

~~~

Ava scowled as she sat alone in her trailer. She looked at herself in the mirror, her face flawless, stunning perfection staring back at her—full red lips and dark mysterious eyes, hair that still held its place. She slapped the mirror with an open palm causing her eyes to water and her hand to throb. Reaching for a towel and a basin of water, she began to scrub the make up off. Though underneath the layers of foundation and rouge, her face was still something to behold, something that dazzled. But people were only dazzled if you performed well, if you were a star, on top! No one cared about what was underneath.

~~~

The lights were dim inside the illusionist's tent and a hush had come over the audience. They were waiting with baited breath for the final part of the trick as The Great Jadú turned the card into a bleeding heart. Kenna covered her eyes, but Astrid watched on, her eyes fixed on the scene like it was a tantalizing treat.

"How can you watch?" Kenna rasped as she peeked over at her sister.

"How can you not?" Astrid stated rather boldly, though her eyes weren't trained on the heart.

Maya watched her brother and saw his eyes flitting over the crowd, lingering toward the back for a moment longer than usual. Turning slightly, she caught sight of the twins. A soft groan rolled over her lips and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Yes, groupies came and went and some lingered longer than others. It was part of life on the road, of being a part of the carnival. But the Castor twins were two she wished would just go away. She didn't care for either of them and she really detested how they eyed her brother at times. However, though she didn't always approve of her brother's 'habits', at least he had standard enough to stay clear of those two.

"Not again," Maya mumbled, but she turned away from the two and returned her focus back onto her brother.

Outside the illusionist's tent Cassidy slowly walked its perimeter. She was glad to be away from both Astrid and Kenna, their presence usually sucking away every last bit of her energy. It was nice to finally have a bit of quiet, not that there was much to be had following after a carnival troupe as it traveled from town to town. But, she didn't mind the hum of the people that gathered as they watched the shows and bought their wares. She liked watching the different people as they meandered through, whether it was one time or many and she especially loved watching the performers. They had guts to do what they did and they had her respect, her admiration. It was hard to leave the security of home, the familiarity of a place you've always known.

For a brief moment, Cassidy felt homesick. She thought about Dragoste, the whirl of people that lived near the sea as the waves crashed against the shore. She could almost smell that fresh salty air as the gulls called overhead and swooped down upon angry sellers in the market square. A smile crept over her lips and she wiped away a stray tear, the crow perched on her shoulder let out a soft croak.

"Shh, there, Morgaine. I know, I know," Cassidy spoke. She pushed at her dark curls and then tugged on her cape as a chilly breeze blew through the trees rustling the leaves. The gas lamps were burning lower, the fuel nearly out. Soon people would take their leave and retire and that would be when everyone would break things down and get ready to move on. Sighing, Cassidy stroked Morgaine. "You wanted to watch him, didn't you? Admit it," she said almost playfully.

Morgaine just twisted her head and croaked.

"I did too," Cassidy said despondently. But she refused to follow the twins. No. She'd have to miss The Great Jadú's performance that night. But it was all right. She'd seen his shows before and she'd see more. Besides, she wasn't there for the same reasons as the twins.

~~~

Back inside her trailer, Ava had finished removing her make up, the towel cast upon the floor. The basin water was murky and the reflection staring back was filled with a raw unsettling emotion that twisted her insides. Fighting the urge to scream, she leaned forward and buried her head against her arms, which were resting against the vanity. Sitting there, face down, she shook with silent, violent sobs.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Albert kissed the girl's skin where her neck met her shoulder, pulled the edge of her dress over her shoulder and kissed skin he had just uncovered.

"Please," she said, and he was happy to oblige. He took her earlobe between his teeth, pressed gently, and then whispered in her ear again. "You're welcome."

Her hands were on the lock, but she wasn't trying to get out any more. This was how it was supposed to be. He had her.

"I... I need to go." Her eyes were filled with emotion, a fine conceit, he thought. She would be excellent in the theatre.

"No, my birdy, you need to stay." Albert pulled her dress over her shoulder and let it drop. She looked delicious, and he licked her skin briefly, just a touch of his tongue. He felt the satisfaction of capture fill his chest, exulted in his power over her. He ran his finger down her arm, took her wrist between his fingers and drew her hand back and down.

"I have a cure for frightened pretties," he said, and pressed her hand against his hardness as he bit her shoulder.

----

Callum flipped the pages of the old book. It smelled old and dry like corn husks kept too long in a mattress. The illustrations were careful and detailed. Very detailed, and he found himself to be in a state of excitement. He shifted and pinched himself. There were passions denied to monsters and it wouldn't do to indulge them. His lamp went out and he refilled it in the pitch dark. The tinker-wagon was as familiar to him as his own hands.

When he came back to the book, he saw how the therapies worked. Pulsing stimulations, rubbing of excitable pearls and fleshly buttons and cavities. The essentials of a machine began to form in his mind. An off-center cam spun on a shaft would produce a vibration that might counterfeit a physician's quick fingers in one of the therapies. Another technique had a slower out-and-in rhythm. Callum imagined that that a brass cylinder attached to a driving-wheel would piston in a very like manner. The motive force could be a hand crank, foot pedals, even a wind-mill or steam, if the device were designed cunningly.

The images in his mind of the machines helped alleviate the uncomfortable excitability of before. The machines could be built, but he knew that every solution would be subject to changes and refinements and he needed to understand the therapies more fully before committing his ideas into hard brass.

----

Mairon squeezed the heart gently a couple of times to make it beat uncannily. The twins were there, Kenna the redhead with her eyes lowered and blonde Astrid's eyes wide and bold. Frustration pierced him, even as he set the heart on its display plate and a kind of fever came over him. He did something that his father had forbid him ever to do. He changed his act.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, "I am going to attempt a most perilous demonstration, and for this I will need..." He let the words hang in the air for a perfect moment, "...a volunteer."

He saw the shock on Maya's face, then immediate anger, but her hand was the first in the air. She was trying to rescue him, but tonight he didn't want to be rescued, and certainly not by his little sister.

"I need a person of hot-blooded character, of bold demeanor, and of steadfastness in the presence of dire danger." Hands went up, tentatively, all over the audience, but he waited, feeling the tension build. "Is there no young man or woman who possesses the qualities required to assist in my endeavor?"

Maya's hand waved desperately, but he caught her eye, grinned and winked before gently shaking his head just for her. She put her hand down, reluctantly, a cold ball of fear forming in her stomach. Illusionists died sometimes when the plan changed. When things went wrongly they could end up dead of their own gadgets, or worse, hung by townspeople if their instruments killed another.

"Is there no one?" he said again, but now he looked directly into Astrid's bold eyes. He would find out if the woman was as bold as her countenance or if she would vanish as was her wont.

----

Barker Clive leaned against Ava's trailer on the shadow side. She was a cold, beautiful one, and untouchable, but he felt her presence in the slight rocking of the springs as she moved about inside, readying herself for bed or for a dance, for a meeting in a gentleman's coach. He could not tell, but he felt the trailer rock against his back. When her weeping began though, he felt that her tears wetted the back of his shoulder, but when he touched his fingers to the spot, they came away dry.

 

[darkangel76]

Felicity's fingertips slid away from the locks on the door, the feel of the cool metal lingering just long enough to beckon she seek them out once more. The urge to reach back up, to force the locks open and give way to the open air, was strong. But Albert was ever firm in his pursuit. The look in his eye and way that he smiled making it clear that anyone in their right mind wouldn't dare object. He held onto her hands, steady fingers sliding along flushed skin until he firmly held held her wrists by her sides. He made quick work of her dress, deftly peeling each layer away until he found the creamy expanse of her shoulder, her back, the gentle slope of her neck bared before him. Her breath hitched as a tear fell from the corner of her left eye, fear running rampant in her veins.

"I..." Felicity stammered, her head shaking from side to side as her face contorted with confusion. She'd dreamed of such intimacy, of torrid encounters with this very man! But... Her green eyes widened when Albert pressed her hand against the bulge in his tights, another tear falling from her left eye and then her right.

This wasn't what Felicity had dreamed. This wasn't the Albert she had imagined. Feeling alone and vulnerable, she let out a small yelp as he bit down on her tender skin.

"No, I...please..." Felicity begged as she tried to squirm free, her dream turned into nightmare. "I really need to go."

~~~

"Of all the bloody..." Maya grumbled, her mouth tightening into a thin line. She watched her brother as fury washed over her. That and worry. She glared at him and followed his gaze, which rested on none other than Astrid Castor. Just what was he playing at? She let out a soft groan and bit down, hard, on the inside of her cheek.

Astrid arched a brow as The Great Jadú looked directly into her eyes. She gave Kenna a nudge and didn't even bother raising her hand like the others in the crowd. Instead, the blonde stood up, her smile coy and full of dark promise. She gave the illusionist a nod and dared her first steps forward.

Outside the illusionist's tent, Cassidy had decided to linger. She walked the perimeter with slow, careful steps. The sky was just barely beginning to brighten—a sign that soon it would be dawn, soon they'd be moving on.

Morgaine let out a soft croak upon Cassidy's shoulder, her clawed feet curling slightly into the fabric of her cape. But the dark-haired girl just smiled.

"Go on then," Cassidy encouraged. "You'll want to eat your fill before we leave."

Morgaine's head dipped down and nuzzled her cheek before she took to the air. Cassidy chuckled softly, but the moment was interrupted when the sound of the crowd from inside the tent pricked her ears. Puzzled by the sudden unsettling murmurs, she decided to peek inside. Just once.

As Cassidy entered the tent, she saw him. The illusionist. The Great Jadú. The smallest of smiles played on her lips as she watched him, his eyes intense and focused on...Astrid. She watched the blonde strut forward toward the stage like a victorious champion. The crowd seemed upset at the choice and a part of her couldn't help but agree. Letting out a soft breath, she slowly backed out. She needed to find Morgaine soon anyway.

~~~

It was difficult to tell how much time had passed as Ava sat there crying, sleeves damp with salty tears. When she finally sat up and looked at her reflection staring back, the urge to cry all over again struck her hard. It was these silent moments when she was all alone that she truly let down her guard. It was the time when the spotlight dimmed and she didn't have to worry about hungry eyes longing for more, for the dazzling spectacle she became when high up in the sky. A time or two she wondered what would happen if she misstepped, if her hand somehow didn't find Albert's at just those right moments.

There was never a net below. Not since she was child. It was one of the things that drew the crowd, that made her...desirable.

Ava brought a trembling hand up to wipe away the wet that was chilling her cheeks. Her face had turned splotchy, but that natural beauty she possessed remained. But no one saw this side, the side covered in layers of not just make up, but the grime of guilt and steely walls that made her the star she was. She hated herself. What's more, she hated that no one truly knew her.

~~~

As the sky began to brighten, a soft and sweet humming followed the sound of light footsteps. A tiny form wearing a deep green cloak pushed its way through the woods, a basket of many colored flowers draped over its arm. Delicate hands pushed the hood back as the small figure broke through the tree line, the humming suddenly coming to a stop as she broke into a raspy cough. The auburn-haired girl covered her mouth as she coughed, one hand moving over her chest as she gasped for air between bouts. A few of the flowers in her basket fell to the ground in disarray at her feet. When her coughing ceased, her eyes softened and she sighed. Moving to kneel on the cold ground, Elspeth began gathering up the flowers she'd dropped, arranging them with loving care back into her basket.

"There we are," Elspeth said in almost a whisper. She smiled and gently touched the flowers before standing up. She was pleased with the flowers she'd found in Faraviata. The colors were rich and wonderful and would provide her exactly what she needed to make dyes for the costumes for the people she held so dear.

 

[Dane Stalling]

The locomotive men polished the great brass boiler of their machine as its entrails groaned and creaked with the growing pressure of the steam. It was moving day, the day the great spread of the carnival collapsed and condensed into neat rows of wagons and trailers, ready for the power of the locomotive to draw them to the next town.

----

Albert blew on the girl's back, from one shoulder to the other, and watched her skin rise to gooseflesh. "You've had a terrible fright," he said, and turned her toward himself. He forced himself to look first in her eyes. "But you're safe now. I'm no monster." He let his gaze lower, taking in the beauty laid bare before him. He stroked up her ribs with both hands, cupped her breasts, soft, a delightful weight in his hands. He wiped a tear from her face with his thumb and saw that a tear had fallen on her breast. He leaned down and licked it from her skin.

"Don't cry, pretty," he said, licking her again, teasing around her pink nipple. "I want to make you the happiest girl alive now. Your skin says yes, but your words are all no, no, no."

He held the tip of her chin between his fingers and put his lips just in front of hers. He could feel the breath from her nostrils on his lips. "Say yes, pretty. I want you to say yes, yes, Albert, yes."

----

Mairon felt like he was flying, free of the iron chains of the planned illusions. He was drunk on the act of pure creation, improvisation, and the thrill of it filled him.

He took Astrid's hand and helped her step up on the stage. She held herself proudly, and radiated a powerful attraction. All eyes were on them, and none could look away. Mairon paraded her from one end of the stage to the other, showing her off to the crowd, and he spoke low into her ear.

"I wonder what feat you're here for? The whirling spider? The damsel in chains? No," he said, twirling her gently, "I think the intelligent sword will be just the one to thrill our spectators."

It had been years since he had practiced the piece, but he had every device he needed, and Astrid provided ample distraction for any sleight of hand. He produced a curved sword in its scabbard from a long black case and held it up for the crowd's examination. He withdrew the blade slowly and the lime-lights caught the polished surface and dazzled the audience's eyes.

"This is an ancient and remarkable sword of Arabia," he said, his voice penetrating to the very back of the tent, "and it will pierce only a heart full of passionate love and no other."

He stood behind Astrid and smelled faint cinnamon. The spice seemed to waft from her hair. Some things were only good in small doses.

He held the sword out with his right hand and with his left, he drew attention to Astrid's breast. He touched her flesh just to the left of center. He felt a change in her demeanor. Her breath quickened, and he knew that she loved being seen, being watched. He had drawn the caress of every eye in the tent onto her skin.

He addressed the crowd. "The human heart is here, in the breast. This is the seat of passion, the home of hate, the center of all feeling." He touched the tip of the sword to her breast and pressed his own chest against her back. "There are two hearts here aligned with the Sword. Will the steel pin them together?"

Mairon gripped the hilt with both hands and a flourish. His brow wet with concentration, he whispered in her ear, "When you woke yestermorning, did you imagine that before the next sunrise you would be impaled with my sword?"

His knuckles whitened around the hilt and he plunged through them both. The audience gasped and the lights flickered. Astrid stood unharmed, but Mairon fell to the ground behind her, the sword seeming to pass through his breast from front to back. The bloody blade came out through a neat hole in his costume coat. He waited for the screaming to start, then he stirred as though waking from death itself. He curled around the hilt and pulled slowly. The blade came out of his body and the audience shivered, then roared as he stood, exhausted and proud, holding the sword up so all could see the gore on it. Blood seeped through his shirt as he took the first bow. He held Astrid's hand up, acknowledging her assistance.

"Here's a present for you," he said, and lifted the edge of her dress up to her waist, exposing her shapely legs. He wiped the sword clean on the fine fabric to the dismay of each female watcher, but when he dropped the dress to cover her again, it was clean as before. This small trick earned another layer of applause on top of the dying cheer.

He raised her hand again, kissed it, and escorted her to the edge of the stage. "I wonder if this sword will ever wound you," he said, and smiled as she stepped out of the lime-light.

----

Barker Clive unpinned his little gold flower and left it on the step of Ava's trailer.

He wandered through the collapsing tents as shows and exhibitions ended. The crowds flowed toward the grand arch and the barker wandered among them, savoring the waning excitement, the ending of a run. The people wandering out were certainly cementing their memories of the evening, imagining how they would story their friends who were unlucky enough not to see the excitement of the carnival and the glory of the spectacle.

He passed behind the illusionist's tent and found Maya standing next to Mairon who sat on a crate, his hand pressed to his left side.

"You're a damn fool, risking yourself for a single look of that... that doxy!" Maya's rage was contained in a venomous whisper.

Mairon laughed hoarsely, and winced. "I didn't puncture my lung this time," he said, "you should be able to sew me up good as new."

"Good evening, friends," Barker Clive grinned and tipped his hat at the brother and sister. He turned his back on their familiar arguing, in itself a comforting certainty in a world that whirled by him constantly. He bowed to the empty fields. "Good evening, Faraviata. You will be forgotten fondly."

 

[darkangel76]

Felicity's body responded to Albert's touches, so tender yet filled with such confidence that she wasn't sure of what was right or what was wrong. She trembled, rooted to the spot as her green eyes glistened with tears, knees wobbling and threatening to give out beneath her. His hands were warm and sure as they traced along her skin, his lips seeking her exposed flesh and trailing feather light kisses while his tongue lightly swirled about the rosy flesh so very close to her nipple, which had tightened into a pert little peak the closer his tongue got to it. A soft sob bubbled up, catching in her throat and she tried to bring her arms about her middle so that she could cover up.

This was wrong and the longer Felicity remained under Albert's protection, the greater her desire became to leave, to escape. No, she didn't want to be there. Every little thought in her head begged that she leave. She longed for air, for a cool breeze to brush against her cheek as she walked the yard, a true member of the troupe. But Albert barred the way, shattering every dream she'd had of him, turning what had once been something beautiful to something so sinister she found it difficult to breathe.

"Please..." Felicity whimpered, her voice pleading that Albert stop, that he let her go so that she could find her suitcase and carry on with her plans of leaving home and finding the life she'd dreamed. "I...I know you're no monster, sir, I..."

But Felicity wasn't so sure now. As Albert's lips inched closer to her own, she wondered who the true monster really was. She thought about the carnival's monster, the oddly gentle way he'd gripped her wrist when he'd wanted to ensure her innocence. He hadn't intended to harm. Had he? Just how much of anything was an act or was real? It was so hard to tell, but she knew right in that moment that she was trapped. Trapped with the most handsome man she'd ever seen, yet the most vicious.

It was a bitter taste to swallow.

Felicity looked deeply into Albert's eyes, her tummy queasy as her body began to feel weak. She was at his mercy, her entire night ruined. "Please, sir. I can't. I won't," she whispered, though somehow she knew her answer wouldn't matter. Her innocence would be taken away...by a monster.

~~~

Maya was angry as she watched the blonde twin walk up to the stage as if she not only owned the crowd watching on, but her brother as well. Had Mairon lost his mind? Not only had he been foolish and changed up his practiced routine, he'd allowed Astrid Castor to be his assistant from the audience. The girl would brag for days—no, weeks—about this. The only satisfaction was that this was their final night in Faraviata. At least she wouldn't have too many people to brag to. Of course, there were some of their followers who liked to travel along, but fortunately their numbers were few and the girl's mouth wouldn't have too much of an affect on subsequent shows.

But Astrid? Oh, her brother would get a tongue lashing later!

Outside the illusionist's tent Cassidy could hear the crowd as they jeered and then cheered. She resisted the temptation to peek back inside. After all, she did need to find Morgaine soon. Surely the bird had found a delicious snack in the neighboring wood and would soon be ready to retire. She let out a soft sigh and kicked at a rock. It rolled along the road and into puddle with a splash. Just then, there was a flutter of feathers and a soft caw. She looked up and smiled. Morgaine was flying overhead and making her way back to her.

The crow found its perch on Cassidy's shoulder, her head nuzzling her cheek. "You came back to me," she said softly as she gently stroked the crow's sleek feathers. Morgaine just croaked causing the girl to laugh. "Oh, so that's how it is? Well, I'm glad to hear it. The feeling is quite mutual."

Cassidy's dark eyes flitted over toward the illusionist's tent. The crowd was clapping and there was a distinct sound of feet stomping. Quickly, she tugged on her cape, pulling it tight about her slim body, and darted into the nearby shadows.

"What an ass!" Astrid huffed as she stormed out of the tent, Kenna was close on her heels.

"You were magnificent," Kenna praised, though she seemed puzzled by her sister's actions.

Astrid's blue eyes were piercing in the eerie light of near dawn. "You didn't hear what he had to say."

"What did he say?" Kenna asked.

A muscle flexed in Astrid's jaw, though she remained quiet and just pulled Kenna along. Her anger was evident and the pink tinge on her pale cheeks couldn't be hidden even in the darker light of sunrise.

As the twins moved away, Cassidy remained in the shadows cast by the dimming lamplight. She tilted her head and furrowed her brow trying to make sense of what she'd just seen. Morgaine turned her head and nibbled at her wing with her beak as if to say she wanted nothing to do with the twins at all.

Raking a hand through her dark curls Cassidy remembered her days as a thief on the wharves of Dragoste. She'd lurk in the shadows, so good at not being seen and going unnoticed. Then, when the time was right, she'd steel a copper or loaf of bread and oh the guilt! But she'd gotten good at her profession. Too good. And she'd hated that. It was why she had to leave her beloved home, that gleaming sea as the tide ebbed and receded.

Cassidy frowned as the twins walked away, her fingers gently stroking Morgaine's breast. She slowly exhaled, a bit surprised that she'd been holding her breath at all. As the two faded into the background, she smiled, glad that the scent of cinnamon was slowly disappearing along with them.

~~~

Elspeth set her basket of flowers down as she entered her trailer and lit a lantern, which illuminated the modest space. Her pressed flower book was right where she'd left it on her bed and the shawl from her old life back in Sokkelo was draped over the bed frame. The ratty old thing was thin and frayed, but it reminded her of what she'd come from, of what she'd left behind and that not a day would go by where she'd regret her choice to leave it. Her slender fingers grazed the window pane, a soft purple the color of heather. The night smelled especially delicious though normally she didn't stay out this late, especially on nights when everyone performed. Though she was fond of the color, the exotic costumes everyone wore to lure in the crowd...some of them terrified and struck horror deep in her heart. No, she didn't mind Callum's bit and had grown quite used to his deformities and even the carnival's near giant of a strong man as well as its fire eater and knife thrower didn't cause her to gasp, to lose her breath and worry she might go into a fit of coughing. No, none of them brought fear into her heart when she saw them painted up and ready for the crowd. Not like...

Immediately, Elspeth cleared her head and began humming prettily—one of the many tunes that often sounded over the bonfires the performers would host on their nights in between towns—before she placed a delicate hand over her chest and began to cough. Fortunately, the fit was short, a few short coughs and it was over. A smile lit up her pale face, dark smudges forming under her eyes, and she breathed in the sweet-smelling air.

"Mm...a small one," Elspeth wheezed, doing her best to take a deep breath and hold it for a moment before letting it out. Her eyes fluttered shut and she silently counted to three. When she opened them they fell upon the costume she'd finished for Clown Roald.

Almost immediately, a shiver ran down along Elspeth's spine. The thought of having to bring the finished garment to Roald chilled her blood. The clown would no doubt still be painted up, his true face hidden beneath layers of stage make up. Not that she'd ever gotten a truly good look at the funny man. Most of the times they'd crossed paths, he was in costume and ready for the crowd. The times that he wasn't, she was usually too busy with her chores. Though, she'd heard his voice at the nightly bonfires when she'd eavesdrop from her trailer and pine away the hours. While everyone would talk and make merry, she'd listen intently by her window, wishing she was sitting with them. But she knew it was too risky to do so, her health already causing her to tread a fine line she often chose to ignore. So she'd sit and pretend and listen to Roald when he'd sing, his haunting voice usually the last thing she'd hear before falling asleep most nights.

Elspeth ran her fingers over the material of the garment and sighed. They'd be leaving Faraviata soon and it would be best to give Roald the clothes before they moved out. Working up the nerve, she snatched up the costume she'd mended for him and exited her trailer in search of his.

~~~

Ava stood up and wiped at her eyes. She needed to pull herself back together. She'd had her cry and would soon have to resume her other act, the one that allowed her and Albert to remain the main act for the circus, the pair everyone longed to see. She slipped out of her costume and put on a more comfortable nightgown of stark white cotton. Grabbing a robe and slipping on her boots, she decided it was time to find her counterpart. He'd been gone much longer than she'd anticipated and it wasn't like him. It made her wonder if the girl he'd run after—the one who'd left their show—had played hard to get for surely an escapade with a lady from Faraviata wouldn't last this long, not when they were heading out soon. More than anyone, she knew the man loved the chase and, from what she knew, he always caught his prey. Though she honestly didn't get Albert's persistence in this particular matter.

Men. She'd never understand them.

And none would, Ava knew, understand her. None saw past the façade she bore for the show, one that never seemed to end. As she opened the door to go outside, she saw something flash as the light from the lamps struck it just so. She arched a brow and crouched down. There, on the steps, was a little gold flower. She picked it up and studied it before glancing around to see who might have left it behind. Holding it tightly in her palm, she was sure she'd seen it earlier that evening when being witty with a particular jabberjaw. Poor sod must've dropped it. He probably stopped by to congratulate Albert in yet another success and then thought better of it. After all, why else would it be there?

With a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, Ava brought the flower inside her trailer and set it down beside her bed for safe keeping. She then went out into the night in hopes to find Albert and make sure he wasn't sulking or something worse. He had a reputation to uphold and he trusted her to help him maintain it. That's all she was good for anyway...something to look at, someone to assist. Life was one big show and how she wished she wasn't a part of it.

 

[Dane Stalling]

"You ran from me, pretty," Albert said, and he pulled the tight aerialist shirt over his head and ran his fingers over his black hair to smooth it down. "And you've caught your lion by running, you cunning girl." He kissed her neck and just touched his chest to her breasts. "You're still running, but you've already caught me, sweet. See?" Albert slipped his tights down, freeing his cock. It bounced twice, an effect he had practiced in a looking-glass, and which never failed to delight and impress.

"Take hold of this and own me, pretty." Albert guided the girl's hand, helped her to wrap it warmly around his hardness. "It's true what they say, 'she fled until she caught me.' And what will you do with your prize, huntress? I will help you think of things," he said, "wonderful and intimate acts." He stepped in close to her, backed her up until she sat on the divan. He moved over her and her hands pressed into his chest, hard. He took each of her wrists firmly in his hands and lifted them over her head. She was no match for him, though she struggled. The pretense was getting tiresome though. The game had had its effect- wasn't he standing a raging pole for her? Maybe she was one who fancied the rougher fare. A man couldn't always tell by looking.

"Sometimes the sweetest face hides the fiercest longing, pretty. Your tears betray the depth and darkness of your lust. You wish to be ravished, to make your victim so helplessly and passionately desire you with your screams and protestations that he has no control over his body, over his will."

He held both her hands over her head with one of his own and wrapped his other hand around her throat. "You have found a kindred spirit, pretty," he said, low, his lips touching hers even as he spoke, "you have found your victim. Will you let him in?"

He touched the blunt tip of his cock against her, tapped her, teasing. "Knock knock, pretty. Open up."

----

Mairon couldn't stop chuckling. Maya's fuming was funny to him, and the angrier she got, the funnier he found it.

"Stop laughing, you bastard," she said, and he laughed harder, tears coming out of his eyes from both pain and hilarity. "You're messing up the stitches."

The sword had slid along the outside of his ribs, just under the flesh. The trick depended on a phenomenal commitment. That's what sold it more than the purely visual effect. The illusionist had to have a measure of genuine fear for the audience to believe it. Both times Mairon had performed it publicly had been to impress women, one way or the other. It worked wonders, if one didn't nick an organ in the process.

He took another swig of the harsh local whiskey and grimaced. "Cool down, Maya," he said, sucking in a breath as the curved needle went in again, "She's either mine forever or she'll never show her face in my tent again."

"She's not yours forever. She's everyone's."

Mairon giggled, drunk, then hissed as Maya pulled the gut tight. "That should make you happy. What do you think about Kenna, then?" he said, and he would have laughed, but Maya's needle made him pass out instead.

----

The Clown Roald sat outside his trailer with Mojo and Chins smoking pipes around a fire in a bucket. They drank a nutty ale that was pretty much the same in every town they visited, which wasn't to say that it was good, but it's effect was consistent.

"You haven't had your mind expanded," Mojo said, "until you've tangled sensitives with a contortionist."

Chins laughed. He always laughed at that joke. Roald scratched his chin and his fingers came away white. It was a habit of the clowns to let their makeup sweat and flake away at the end of a run. A pointed relaxing of their usual fanatical fixation on perfectly applied faces. It wasn't pretty, they looked like three deteriorating white skulls floating around the fire, eating bits of meat they roasted on long metal stakes.

"What's this, then?" Roald said, taking a greasy bite off his stake. "It better not be rats again."

Chins giggled. "The market lady said it was squirrel clear as day and she wouldn't lie. She had a mole next to her nose and that makes a woman honest."

"Excrement," Mojo said, "rat again. At least you didn't buy it dear." He tore a piece of tough meat off with his teeth and spat it into the fire. "Why won't the Doctor hire us a contortionist? I'll tell you why. He's a prude and a lech all at once and he can't abide a woman who can cure her own hysteria with her tongue."

Chins laughed until his tears made dark streaks under his eyes.

Roald saw skirts out of the corner of his eye at the edge of the firelight. Shy Elspeth, certainly, faint and pretty. He reached for his decorated guitar and picked a little nostalgic melody they all knew, one he had heard her humming, but he changed the words.

Come out of the shadows, sweet mender of clothes
we've meat here and ale drink and smoke strong to share
we'll sing you sweet tales of far lands and wild roses
so true your dream notions will sail you safe there.

Roald kept playing and Chins started a new verse.

But stay in the shadows, girl, let me be blunt
I'll throw wide your knees and I'll worry your...

Roald backhanded him good-naturedly, but hard enough to make his nose smart. "Save your bawdy songs for the bordello, Chins. You'll sour our ale and offend our guest." Chins covered his face and began to cry exaggerated tears to belie the painted leer on his face.

Roald turned to Elspeth and bowed his head slightly, made space on the makeshift bench for her. "What have you got that brings you among such villains so late at night? You might hear things to harm your virtue."

----

The locomotive men used horses to line the colorful trailers up with their occupants still sleeping inside, the slight bump of the hitches mating had some of the sleepers merely sigh and turn over. As the sun rose the locomotive pulled, making no headway at first, but then it rolled an inch, then a foot, then a yard, each turn of the great spoked wheels moving them away from Faraviata and toward Kaland. The road was for sleeping, and it rocked the performers as innocently as children.

 

[darkangel76]

Salty tears wetted Felicity's cheeks as she bumped against the plush divan and had no other choice but to rest against it. Her bared body slowly lowered itself down upon its lavish cushions, sinking deeply into its softness as Albert firmly gripped her wrists and pressed himself against her. She opened her mouth, sucked in air and willed herself to speak, to shout, anything to protest what it was he was about to do! But, the words just wouldn't come. So many times, she'd woken from sweaty dreams where this very man had taken her away from her family, promised her the life she'd longed for and more. His smile would reach his eyes, as he'd look upon her, his fingers lacing with hers as he professed his love. But this? Not once did he ever come off so strong. His hands knew exactly what to do to work her up and his face was perfect just like it was on every banner that showed his face. He was indeed magnificent and she was his. He wanted her.

He...wanted...her.

Felicity shook her head, her green eyes clamping shut as the room began to spin, the air hot and stifling as panic washed over her. She longed for the Albert she knew this man could be, should be! Where was the Albert Sparrow she'd dreamed of night after night who made sweet love to her as he whispered promises of a future in her ear? He wasn't here. He wasn't anywhere. As her legs began to spread, she felt her heart sink and as if something punched her squarely in the gut.

Just then, the door swung open and a rush of brisk air flooded the cramped space. The lights from outside made it difficult to see who or what stood in the doorway. But, the sighing sound that came from the silhouette couldn't be ignored.

"Really, Albert?" came a voice, sweet and syrupy and so full of sarcasm. The shadowy form moved closer and Felicity soon realized that it was Ava Sparrow. Her eyes widened in a mix of surprise and relief. What would the aerialist do seeing the two of them like this, in this state? Oh, she could only hope that she'd rush her out the door!

Ava didn't even try to be sophisticated when she crossed the room toward the pair. Her dark eyes narrowed as she eyed the young girl in Albert's arms, the two of them bared and making fools of themselves. She could plainly see the look on the young tart's face. What a disgrace. All of Faraviata would be talking about this if she didn't put a stop to it. Albert had no shame and once he set his sights on something, his pursuit was relentless. It was up to her to smooth it over before it became a catastrophe. This girl clearly wasn't like Astrid or Kenna. Shaking her head, she grabbed the young girl by the wrist and pulled her up off the divan. She didn't even bother looking over at Albert, as he was lucky she'd already had her cry. Though, it was moments like these that she found some shred of purpose.

"Just get out," Ava snapped coolly at the girl. She meant it to sound cold and cruel, but it was for the girl's own good. The faster she got out, the safer she'd be. She'd deal with Albert. She always did. It was part of the 'act'.

Felicity scrambled for her clothes and quickly pulled them on. She looked entirely disheveled, rumpled in every way as her skirts wrinkled about her waist and the hemline. She didn't bother tying her corset or fixing her hair. No, this was about seizing the opportunity and she wasn't about let it slip away.

Sniffling, Felicity fastened the last button and ran out of the trailer and into the brisk night. She looked up into the brightening sky as the moon smiled down. Oh what was she going to do? Her things were with that monster and it was far too late to speak to the Doctor about joining his carnival. The trailers were already lining up, being readied to move out once the sun poked its head above the horizon. She had nowhere to go or to stay and going home just wasn't an option. Besides, some of her most beloved items were in that suitcase. Distraught and overcome with despair, she buried her face in her hands and began to whimper softly.

In the shadows lining the trailers, a tiny form was watching. Her eyes sparkled as she peeked out and tilted her head, wild red hair whipping in the breeze. She leaned a bit closer, her eyes carefully fixed on the weeping girl that stood so alone in the night. A bead of sweat trickled from her forehead and down along her freckle-smattered nose. She recognized the girl from before. Her face was one that haunted.

"This way," Rhianna rasped as she gestured Felicity follow.

Felicity brought her hands away from her face and suddenly saw the fortune-teller—Rhianna. She bit down on her lower lip, jewel-like eyes glancing from side to side before she slowly made her way toward the girl. She'd been strange, but alluring, her words still ringing in her mind. It was she that had set things in motion, had made the gears grind.

"You'll stay with me," Rhianna whispered as she gently took hold of Felicity's arm. "I'll take you to the Doctor in the morning."

~~~

Maya just scowled as Mairon passed out. At least her brother hadn't finally lowered his standards enough to settle in with the likes of Astrid Castor. Pity he didn't last long enough to hear what she had to say about Kenna. The red headed twin wasn't much better than her counterpart, a mere puppet to be played by the more cunning of the two. It was sad really. But, she supposed that would be a tale to tell another time.

Meanwhile, Cassidy walked through the yard, her boots squelching through the mud as she made her way to her trailer. A small smile played on her lips as she thought about the fuming Astrid, her sister scurrying after her as she'd stormed away. Morgaine fluttered her wings slightly.

"Shh...there now," Cassidy said softly, gentle fingers finding the bird's wing. "Almost home."

Cassidy scraped the mud from her boots before making her way into her trailer. They were being organized to leave and word was out that they'd be heading to Kaland. Just what sorts of adventures awaited there, she wondered. She just hoped she didn't get to miss any of the performances made by The Great Jadú.

~~~

Their laughter and talk carried as Elspeth neared the trailers of the clowns. She knew Roald would be among them. They often gathered together after a night's run and would make merry until the sky lightened and was marked with streaks of soft purples and reds. She caught sight of their painted faces, masks that hid rowdy men underneath. As she neared, Roald began to play, his tune matching the song she was idly humming. Her eyes lowered and she peered through thick lashes as her feet continued on, pressing forward as she clutched the costume in her small hands. The clowns were coarse in their talk, obscene as Chins began to take over the little ditty Roald started as she got closer.

Immediately, Elspeth went silent, stopping for a moment as she bit down on her lower lip. She'd entered the soft glow of the firelight, her small frame casting a tiny shadow as she stood there before the three clowns. Their faces were smeared, a distortion of smiles as they sat there and invited her to join them in their obscene talk. She glanced over at Roald who'd just smacked Chins, the clown feigning sorrow and injury like the clown he was. Mojo sat there and sipped his ale, clearly thinking about the contortionist they all seemed to dream about having.

"I..." Elspeth began before succumbing to a small fit of coughs. She cleared her throat and proceeded to move forward toward Roald. The clown—no, he was a man beneath that paint—dipped his head toward her and gestured she sit beside him. Unsure of what to do, she dared another step forward until she finally was seated next to the man playing so finely.

So many nights Elspeth would listen to Roald sing while she sat alone in her trailer. She wondered how the funny man came up with such songs and was able to spin such wondrous tales. At night, when she sat alone, she could pretend that he sung to her, for her. But it somehow always seemed different whenever they crossed paths and he wore that 'face'.

"I've mended your costume," Elspeth said quietly. The garment was folded neatly in her lap. "I...I also added a few embellishments," she added, her eyes were fixed on the fire as she spoke, the light causing the shadows to dance across her face as she sat there. "I just wanted to bring it to you before we moved out."

~~~

Stella yawned as she made her way up the stairs to her traveling home. Everything was in place. All the trailers were lined up and her own home was among them all. She cast a glance at the front of the line where she knew the Doctor would be staying and she smiled. Oh, this would truly be the best decision she'd ever made! Soon they'd be rolling in more coin than they knew what to deal with! Women from all over would line up for treatments! They'd be the talk of world! Yes, Stella dreamed big. But then, why ever dream small.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Chins and Mojo crowded close, interested to see what Elspeth had done with Roald's costume.

He pushed them back. "You clumsies are stepping on her toes," he said, which wasn't strictly true, but Elspeth's work was special and he didn't want Chins making some rude comment on it.

The costume had been an ordinary one, fairly crude. Audiences never were within ten feet of it, and the quality of the seams didn't have to be high. They just had to not fail. The seams had failed though, and Roald had had to do the last half of the ladder gag with a split from his armpit to his knee. What he held now was like something he might have purchased at a gentleman's tailor shop. Each seam was tight and turned under. No more loose threads stuck out, and the wrists and the inside of the collar were lined in a buttery leather.

"I'll never want to take this off, Elspeth," he said. Then he saw that there were new decorations. Gods with lightning bolts, maidens by the dozens fainting and fawning, a portrait of a cruel warrior queen.

"But what stories are these?" he said, fingering the tiny stitches that formed a woman's breast. "I've never heard them sung or told."

----

"She seduced me," Albert wailed as the girl threw on her clothes willy nilly without even tying her corset. It was most improper. Ava had his hair in a fist and he felt tears squeezing out of his eyes. Then she was gone, escaped, and he had been robbed of his conquest. "She hypnotized me," he rasped.

"Oh, you 'chased her until she caught you?' It's a tired and pathetic lie, Albert. She's not a carnie tart, couldn't you see? She's a young lady and could cause trouble like in Musertaa. You've not forgotten the pitchforks and torches already, have you?"

Albert shuddered. Mayors' daughters looked just like the other pretty girls. How could a man tell? They had all but had the noose around his neck in Musertaa.

Ava let go of his hair and he slumped on his divan.

"Cover yourself. You're disgusting."

----

The locomotive crawled North, rarely above a walking pace, and as the sun rose, many of the occupants of the colorful string of trailers stepped out and walked alongside the train, talking as they walked, stealing the occasional squash from a field and picking wild blackberries for breakfast.

Callum woke when his tinker trailer hit a particularly large pothole and his lamp toppled over. All the other tools and gadgets swung securely on their hooks in a synchronized dance. He hung the lantern up on its own tiny hook and stood. He stretched and cranked the roof open a little to let in light. Moving days were some of the few he walked freely in the sun and air. He put the plate in his mouth, opened his door and stepped onto the old tar road. There had been other machines that used the road before the wars, but now they were mostly just horses and wagons and sometimes a velocipede close to the cities.

He limped slowly, relaxed, enjoying the sun and wind, and the locomotive gained on him. The Sparrows' trailer passed him, then Elspeth's, then Roald's with the chipping white paint, then Sadie's little blue trailer. He rapped on her shutter as he shuffled. She opened a minute later, her dark hair wet and shining. Droplets shone and sparkled in her beard.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, "How's our most fetching lady?"

"Awake and breathing, Cal," she said, but sleep was still in her voice.

"A lady lost her luggage by my cage in the night and I have it safe. Did you see a fire-haired lady in the night? Maybe one of the horsemen can deliver it back to Faraviata before we're too far."

"I haven't seen such a lady, but Barker sees much, and Rhianna sees more. Maybe they can help."

"Thank you kindly."

Callum rolled along, letting the train go by, taking a bread loaf and a scoop of butter from the chuck wagon and eating it one torn chunk at a time and smeared with the rich yellow.

Rihanna's tiny red trailer bumped along the road, all shut up tight. Strange for the soothsayer. On moving days she was always dashing through fields collecting herbs and toadstools and tiny blue eggshells and her door and shutters banged open and shut as the trailer rocked. The girl was odd, but delightful in her way. If Callum ever found two or three stalks of wheat tied together with a horsehair on the step of his trailer or a tiny fairy made of flowers stuck to the dew on his door, he knew it was Rihanna.

He knocked on a shutter. "Hello, Rihanna, it's..."

"Leave the leather on my step," Rhianna said, speaking low through the closed shutter, "Gratitude will descend on you, but today it is a flown bird, and wounded."

Callum scratched his ear and shrugged. "Can I get you anything else?"

The shutter was mute for a minute. "Yes. Two loaves, a seasoned sausage, and one large carrot that hasn't been stolen."

Callum tapped the shutter gently by way of response and picked up his skipping pace. When he caught up to his trailer, he swung in and wrapped a silver coin in a bit of red cloth and picked up the girl's bag. He collected the bread and the sausage at the chuck wagon and exchanged a carrot from a horseman's bag for the coin without the man even noticing that he was there. He left the strange collection on Rihanna's tiny porch.

"Shall I sing you a song as well?" he said just loud enough for her to hear. He snorted a low laugh.

"A song. What a wonderful thought," she said, "but no. The music of the wheels is sweet enough."

Callum sighed and quoted a familiar saying among the people of the carnival. "We leave behind all the evils we don't bring along with us." He thought of the cage and the tent-peg, and hoped they traveled faster than gossip.

 

[darkangel76]

Elspeth felt a sweeping heat prickle along her skin as Roald inspected her work, his fingers moving along each stitch while his eyes took in the extra embellishments she'd taken to adding to the garment. Both Chins and Mojo seemed eager to see what she'd done, though the extra care she'd taken on Roald's costume wasn't something she normally did. Yes, she took pride in every bit that came her way, but...Roald's was special. A part of him frightened her. Perhaps it was the fact that she never got a good look at his face or a moment to truly speak with him. After all, his entourage of clowns was almost always by his side and who could resist a funny quip or a melodious song? Besides, her chores always kept her busy. Dr. Manuel saw to that and, deep down, she knew why though she didn't like to think on it. But Roald's voice...it lulled her to dreamland every night, a rich voice singing sweet tunes as the moon rose high in the sky and the fires crackled warm and inviting in the distance.

It was nice to actually be sitting with someone who seemed to want her near.

Elspeth smiled shyly, her hands wringing the apron she donned. She twisted the thin fabric with her fingers as she stared at the dancing flames, feeling the weight of the clowns' gazes. She tried not to think of the others, of Chins and Mojo. She tried to imagine it was just she and Roald sitting there, his face natural without the smears of white and red.

"I..." Elspeth began, though her mouth suddenly felt dry. She licked her lips and held back a cough, which threatened burst forth just in that moment. Clearing her throat, she brought her apron up toward her mouth and dabbed at her lips, giggling nervously, softly. "They're just stories," she went on, her eyes still fixed on the fire. A warmth settled deep inside her tummy. She was glad that Roald seemed pleased with her work. "I used to hear my previous employer tell them to her daughters." It was an admission. Her previous employer had only taken her on because her mother—the original servant—had died. Not wanting to seem uncharitable, she'd kept Elspeth in her home, but she had to take up her mother's old position. She'd never been allowed to play with the girls her own age, forever playing alone. "Some were sad, others f-frightening..." she stuttered slightly and bit down on her lower lip. Swallowing hard, she looked away from the orange glow of fire and over at Roald. Chins and Mojo seemed to be whispering, but she couldn't make out their chatter nor did she want to. "But some had happy endings."

Elspeth smiled as her dark eyes peered into Roald's, trying to look beyond the make up and bawdy façade. There was more there, though the smell of the ale was pungent as it wafted up and fire popped. She heard it every night before she went to sleep.

~~~

Ava scowled as Albert busily dressed himself. Why was the insufferable brute always like this? They truly were a pair to be reckoned with. So perfect to those that watched them as the light shone down making them stars. But if anyone dared to peer too closely, they'd see every crack and every crease. All their flaws would be more than visible, giving away their darkest secrets. They were like gaping ravines waiting to swallow up anyone who dared to approach. It was no wonder people kept a cool distance—her thoughts suddenly flitting to the gold flower—and it was why she played up to the role. The act that must go on once the show ended. How she hated what her life had become. But it had become necessary to thrive. She lowered her eyes, not wanting to watch as Albert made himself decent and she could hear the light footfalls of the girl running through the yard. Her eyes closed and her heart twisted. She was an impenetrable island with great walls no one could breach.

No one?

The sounds of Albert sliding fabric over skin resonated in Ava's ears and she felt her jaw clench, her muscles tense. Her hands, which had been resting against the plush divan, had balled up into fists and she felt an ache grow in her chest. Slowly, she opened her eyes and crossed her arms pulling the white cotton of her nightgown taut about her body. She shook her head, stood up and crossed the tiny space so that she was facing Albert. Her dark eyes narrowed and she slapped him once and then twice across the face.

"Don't follow me," Ava stated as she walked out of the trailer and across the yard. Where the girl had gone was no business of hers. The sky was beginning to brighten and soon it would be morning. Soon they'd be leaving this wretched town and heading for another.

~~~

Felicity slowly blinked her eyes open. As they came into focus, she found herself looking into a smiling face covered in freckles, wild red hair bouncing about, as they seemed to be moving in time with the trailer as it slowly rattled along.

"Oh...oh my..." Felicity gasped, her fingers grabbing at the blankets.

Rhianna just giggled, a hand covering her mouth. "Good, you're awake." She reached for the bread and handed it directly to Felicity, the smile upon her lips only growing.

"Th-thank you?" Felicity said, unsure what to make of the fortune-teller's odd behavior as she thrust the bread in her face. She took the offered food and gave the girl a nod of thanks. Carefully, she broke off a piece and began nibbling at it.

Rhianna nodded, "It's good isn't it? Freshly brought to you this morning. And..." she went on, turning to grab at something seemingly hidden behind a table. "This." She placed a leather bag roughly onto the bed next to Felicity's outstretched legs. The mattress bounced and jostled her slightly as the bag settled into place.

Felicity's eyes widened, sparkling like emeralds as she took in the sight of her long lost suitcase. Immediately, she reached out for it, completely aghast. "How did you? I thought..."

"Ah, but he was here," Rhianna said with a knowing smile.

"He?" Felicity asked wondering to whom she was referring, but Rhianna only nodded. "Who?" she asked again, a bit flustered.

"You don't know?" Rhianna tsk'd, her hand moving to fiddle with Felicity's pretty red curls as the girl continued to nibble on her bread. "Come, I've more food for you. You had a fright last night and you must be famished. Besides, you need to be ready when you speak to our Doctor." She gave Felicity a knowing look.

"I..." Felicity stammered, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Everything was happening so quickly, though she was thrilled to have her things back.

"You'll be fine," the fortune-teller insisted as she tugged on a flaming tendril. "You can stay with me until you find...other..." she giggled, her blue eyes closing. "Arrangements."

Felicity felt confused, but she could tell that Rhianna meant well and her whimsical way was a bit infectious. She nodded and pushed the blankets down, letting her legs dangle over the side of the bed for a moment before getting up and stretching her arms. The bread did indeed taste good and she was very hungry. Things were finally falling into place, finally going as she'd dreamed...and the monster who'd given her the scare would hopefully not turn out to be as he'd seemed.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Mairon climbed the ladder to the roof of his trailer very slowly, careful so the lazy rocking of the moving line wouldn't cause him to slip and pop his stitches. His head hurt and his side throbbed horribly, but he felt as though the morning light and air were purifying him somehow. Some weight or filth was washing away and he wanted to be as close to the sky as he could be. He watched the few clouds form themselves into great boulders or the faces of the fates.

A black form caught his attention, a bird riding a thermal, doing lazy spirals, resting on rising air like he was resting on his rocking trailer. It did two turns, three, then it jerked as though it was dodging something. It flapped a few times to get back into the rising stream of air. Mairon rolled over, curious and searched the sides of the road. Three dirty children with slingshots shaded their eyes and one was stretching the elastic for another shot at the bird.

Mairon whistled to get the children's attention and motioned for them to come up on the trailer with him. They couldn't believe their luck.

"You can't hit a crow from this distance, and even if you do, where's the fun?" Mairon asked, as the children jostled for places close to him. "Just a stack of feathers is all you'll have. Crows are no good for eating but they're curious creatures. If you show a sparkle, they'll come look to see what fun you've got."

He reached out to the oldest, a boy, and snapped a silver button off his vest. He took one of the slingshots before the boy could even comment and he stretched the elastic out, aiming in front of the bird. He let fly and the button flashed bright in the sun as it flew.

The crow was drawn to it like a fish to a sparkle lure. The button curved out of the sky, the crow close behind it, and when it struck the ground in a bean field, the crow caught it on the first bounce. The children clapped. Then it lifted from the field and, to Mairon's surprise, flew to a trailer far back in the train, the color of sea-foam.

He tore his own top button off and when the crow took to the air again, he shot his button across its path. The crow caught it mid-air this time and again returned to the sea-foam trailer.

The disappearing crow-girl. Suddenly he wanted his button back.

----

Clown Roald sensed a treasure. He always had an itch in his mind when something was precious. When he was a child he could see the tiniest knurled edge of a coin buried in road sand. And Elspeth had it, the thing that made him feel that way.

"Some were sad, others f-frightening... but some had happy endings." she said.

Chins snorted across the fire, then dissolved into a loud fit of laughter. He draped his bulk over Mojo's smaller frame dramatically and heaved as though he couldn't breathe. "I love happy endings," he sobbed, "in the oiled hands of gypsy girls. I cream their coffee," he said, between immense gasps of laughter, "I lotion their slippy hand skins."

Mojo dipped his shoulder and dumped the big clown on the ground. "Sleep it off, you big lout. Your trailer's just over yonder."

Chins rolled on the ground, giggling, then stood and stumbled to his door. He pulled down his pants and mooned the world. "See how my ending smiles," he laughed, and disappeared into his trailer.

Mojo touched the brim of his deteriorating hat. "Good evening, Roald, Miss. And may your tangling be propitious."

Roald threw a burning stick at him and Mojo caught it on the cool end, and lit his pipe with the ember. Then he turned and walked into the darkness, whistling a minor tune.

"We clowns always jest, Elspeth. We mean no harm by it. It is just our way—we are base and sharp." Roald draped the newly enhanced garment over his shoulder. "I'll walk you to your wagon. I want to hear these new stories out of the hearing of my jackfool friends one day soon.

Clown Roald never ran out of words, but Elspeth's still made him still too. She spoke quiet when she wanted, and he leaned to hear each word. He removed his tophat at her door and gave her the great yellow flower from his lapel. It drooped a little, but he could think of nothing else he had to give her.

----

The Doctor felt for his glasses before he even opened his eyes. He lay in bed, feeling the rocking, listening to the speech of the queue of trailers for complaint or breakage. All was well. He dressed in his white and drew water for tea. His first sip closed his eyes with pleasure. It was a simple drink, and complex. It fogged the discs of his glasses. A sharp rap at his door snapped him from the hot embrace of the drink. He sighed and reached for the latch.

----

Mairon sat in the shade on a small stone bridge over a creek. He waited as red went by and blue, each trailer ornamented with paints and filligree. Finally one rolled by the color of a beaten ocean. He matched stride, favoring his left side, and knocked on the shutter.

 

[darkangel76]

A nervous flutter caused Elspeth's tummy to feel as if she were taking a ride on a whirling contraption. She'd glimpsed one such rarity as a child when she'd accompanied her mother to the market square, the smell of fish always heavy in the air burning her nose. It was before the dark times, before the restrictions and quarantines. The shiny wheel had been standing proud and tall on a pier overlooking the crystal blue water not far from their patron's home. Round and round it went, bringing smiles and laughter. Even their patron's daughter, Sally-Anne had ridden the great wheel, experienced the thrill, the adventure! But that great wheel no longer turned, the metal torn down to build makeshift medical housing.

She could suddenly hear the blood curdling screams when they'd found her mother, bright crimson spittle dribbling from the corners of her pretty mouth.

Elspeth's eyes widened a little at Chins' antics, but she did her best not to show her discomfort. Instead, she turned slightly toward Roald, though she could feel her cheeks warm and suddenly the desire to hide outweighed her want to be seen. For so long she'd pined for such acceptance, yearned for someone to lend a shoulder. And to think that the ones who welcomed her were the lewd merry men who laughed raucously and smelled of sweat and pungent ale. Chins finally stumbled off, his crude talk still somehow lingering in her head after he'd left. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, while her hands continued to worry the hem of her apron. A frayed end began to unravel, so she wrapped the loose thread about a finger causing the tip to turn a pale shade blue. She glanced up and away from her lap, Mojo then bidding both she and Roald a goodnight. Her lips turned up into a half smile as she nodded his way, the air suddenly lighter with the two men gone who usually flanked Roald on either side.

As Elspeth looked up at Roald, eyes ringed with dark circles, she imagined what it might be like listening to him tell her stories, singing her sweet lullabies as the fire slowly dwindled into nothing. Of course, this was probably the best she'd get and she'd hardly complain about that. He'd been a gentleman despite his entourage, welcoming her to his makeshift hearth and praising her skill. Not many would go to such length. She peered into his eyes and wondered...why?

For several more moments, Elspeth shared more of the night with Roald. He didn't seem to mind her shyness, her quiet way. They could talk or share a comfortable silence, so different from the others who rushed her away if she came near, their false smiles hiding nothing behind masks that didn't consist of white and red paint. Her smile grew as he walked her back to the familiarity of her trailer. Once or twice, her arm brushed ever so slightly against his. The warmth of the soft purple of her modest little place beckoned as she neared, promising a night of fitful sleep and pleasant dreams. When he gave her the flower, her heart suddenly began to pound, blood rushing through veins as her insides knotted and tensed. She brought the wilted petals to her nose and inhaled deeply, the trace scent still lingering upon the soft yellow. The gift had meant everything and she knew just where to keep it.

Once Roald had gone, Elspeth lit her lantern and then crossed the tiny space of her trailer. On her bed was the book of pressed flowers. She found an empty page and smiled, her fingers gently caressing it as she placed the flower upon it. A cough bubbled up and soon she was trying to catch her breath. But her eyes remained fixed on the flower and the smile remained fixed on her lips.

~~~

Golden rays filtered through the slightly open shutters, but Cassidy kept the blankets pulled up over her head. She wasn't ready to start the day. But that bird! She'd heard Morgaine fluttering about and finally leave, no doubt in search of something to eat. But twice! Twice now she'd flown in and out and let something fall and roll around in one of her bowls she'd had out on the table. The things were jingling as the bird toyed with them.

"Damn it, Morgaine!" Cassidy shouted as she sat up and laughed. Her face was bright though her dark hair was wild and mussed as it framed her face. The crow just croaked and pecked at her new treasures. "What have you got?" she asked as she slid out of bed and rubbed at her dark eyes.

Cassidy shivered as her bare feet hit the cold, hard floor. She grabbed a knit shawl, draping it about her shoulders, and padded over toward Morgaine. The air was cooler than she anticipated, the brightness of the sun playing a cruel joke to confuse the senses. She let her fingers brush along a black wing as she peered into the bowl. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she examined what appeared to be...buttons?

"Just what mischief have you been up to?" Cassidy asked Morgaine playfully, but the crow nudged at the buttons and turned her head toward the shutters causing the girl to tilt her head and arch a brow.

Just then, there was a loud rapping sound. Cassidy jumped letting out a tiny yelp as she fumbled slightly and giggled. She eyed the bird and pointed at her knowingly.

"You knew a visitor would be coming." Cassidy's eyes sparkled as she pulled her shawl tighter and began moving toward the door. Her thin nightgown grazed the floor with each step. "Didn't you?" Morgaine just croaked and hopped from the table to a chair.

Cassidy raked a hand through her tousled hair, fingers tugging on wispy strands. She laughed as she opened the door, but stopped abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath, when her eyes were suddenly locked with those belonging to the Great Jadú.

~~~

The walk wasn't far, but Felicity had to race to keep up with Rhianna as the spritely girl moved against the rolling motion of the train and toward the front of all the trailers. The fortune-teller was taking her to see the Doctor. She'd been tittering about all morning, urging her to get ready to present herself. Her freckled hands had fawned over her, smoothing out her skirts and working out her curls. She had to admit it was nice to have someone pore so much attention over her, wishing her luck as she sought to make her dreams come true. When they finally reached the man's trailer, she saw another looming near. It looked more like a home...she was sure her parents would approve if they saw such a thing.

"This way," Rhianna hissed, grabbing Felicity's wrist and dragging her up toward Dr. Manuel's humble abode. She smiled a vicious grin, blue eyes matching that of the sky overhead and banged her fist against the door.

Felicity's heart was suddenly in her throat. She felt ill, terrified. There was no way she could do this. This man would never hire her on. How could he? She didn't even know what she was doing!

"You'll be marvelous," Rhianna assured, a hand giving Felicity's arm a squeeze. "He won't turn you away."

Felicity nodded. How she wished she had the same amount of confidence. Just then, the door swung open and Rhianna walked right past the man standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Doctor," Rhianna spoke. She looked over at Felicity who smiled nervously. "This is Felicity Carmichael," she went on, Felicity's cheeks turning pink as she lowered herself in a demure curtsy.

"Good day," Felicity said softly. As she stood up, Rhianna nudged her forward. "I...I..."

Rhianna let out a puff of air. "She'd like to join our carnival family," she stated. "I'm sure a man such as you can help out such a girl, find a way for her to help and fit in." She nodded encouragingly. "She can stay with me...for now."

For now...those words made Felicity's tummy feel queasy. She looked from the Doctor to Rhianna and then back at the Doctor once more. Oh how she hoped she hadn't offended the man. And oh how she hoped she'd be able to stay. At least Rhianna seemed to believe in her. That had to count for something. It just did.

 

[Dane Stalling]

Clown Roald fingered the cloth of his new costume as Elspeth's trailer door shut behind her. He felt lighthearted, but thoughtful. Like singing, but not in jest. He walked once around the purple trailer, and wandered back to his fire and held the guitar, silent for a moment, thinking, remembering an ancient song. He began, tried some chords, then played slow and sweet and sang to himself and to the fire and to any gentle ears that might listen in the night:

Out of this wood do not desire to go:
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no.
I am a spirit of no common rate;
The summer still doth tend upon my state;
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me;
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee,
And they shall fetch thee jewels from the deep,
And sing while thou on pressed flowers dost sleep.

The voice in the song turned, then to other listeners. Roald changed words as he was accustomed, to fit his mood and his audience. He thought of the mysterious figures Elspeth's hands had stitched into the costume, unearthly things, and he sang again:

Be kind and courteous to this gentle lass;
Hop in her walks and gambol in her eyes;
Feed her with apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries;
The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees,
And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes,
To have my love to bed and to arise;
And pluck the wings from Painted butterflies
To fan the moonbeams from her sleeping eyes:

Roald covered the bucket with a larger metal tub to snuff the fire and walked to his trailer, his guitar over his shoulder. The instrument would be his only nighttime companion, as it had been for many months.

----

Mairon took his hat off and winced as he waited for the trailer door to open, and when it did, he found himself facing a beautiful woman in wrap and long nightgown and little else. Her hair looked like an ocean breeze had danced with it, and it made her look carefree and wild. Her laugh had died as soon as she saw him. The crow stood on the table, rattling its treasures in a bowl, its feathers glossy and long.

The woman's eyes were wise and dark and she had full lips that just now were open in surprise. He recognized her. He stepped up and rode the lowest rung on her trailer and held to it against the rocking with his right hand.

"Don't disappear, Lady," he said, "Your handsome crow has a button of mine..." he said, fingering the empty place where his button had been. It seemed rude to ask for it back, since he had launched it in the first place. He sensed that the crow would be offended at the lack of courtesy if he were to claim it. Odd. He had never felt any obligation to an animal before.

"...but the gift is incomplete. There are four more in the set." He pulled the four remaining buttons off his vest as he spoke and held them up in his hand.

"My name is Mairon," he said, when she hesitated. "I hide things and then I make them visible again."

----

The Doctor blinked behind his glasses. He was used to Rhianna's manias and prodding, but to burst into his trailer while they were traveling was unusual, and that she had a lady in tow was unprecedented.

He fancied himself a man of science, and he knew that her fortune-telling was merely a clever art of reading the eyes, of the accomplice in the line chatting with marks to get specific details. And yet, the girl was uncanny in her judgment of character. She had told him never to hire the perfectly healthy Fat Man Johnny Lambert, then he keeled over after just two months and they had to bury him in the middle of the night next to a festering swamp. That had cost him dearly- coin for strong backs and silence and for reprinting nearly a full stock of carnival posters. So when she had insisted that he hire poor Elspeth, in spite of her obvious frail health, he was too afraid not to heed her.

And here she was again, with a stuttering young lady with soft hands. She could never pound tent-pegs or shovel after the show ponies like the Russian women. He had all the cooks and laundry-maids he needed and she didn't look as if she could do a diving somersault through a flaming hoop. In fact, it looked like she had no skills at all, except perhaps for being pretty in an innocent way. The kind of pretty of which a Tribulation Baptist preacher would approve. The kind that didn't work at all in a carnival. The only qualification she seemed to come with was Rhianna's introduction and the fact that she was female and to all appearances, healthy.

This last thought startled him and he almost forgot his courtesy.

"Can I offer you ladies some tea, perhaps?"

He poured for them, and watched, amused, as Rhianna snuck a little pinch of green powder into Felicity's tea, and a little into her own. He wondered briefly what mischief this was, but decided to let the wild redhead entertain herself as she saw fit.

"As it happens," he said, "I have a new position open for a... let's say, a research assistant. A woman of strong health who can stand in for a patient stricken with hysteria. The assistant needs to be well bathed and groomed, and willing to be the subject of intimate inspection and manipulation. This, of course, under the strictest professionalism and in the rigorous pursuit of scientific knowledge. The assistant will never be subject to any danger or peril, and I personally will oversee any experiments that might result in discomfort with the intent to minimize those uncomfortable effects. In fact, this is an essential element of my research."

He took a sip of tea.

"Of course, the research is secret at this point and discussion thereof will be prohibited until such time as my investor sees fit to make it known to the general public. I am prepared to offer three..."

Rhianna stomped on his foot suddenly.

The Doctor winced. "...five coins per day for such an assistant. Is this a situation that agrees with you?"

----

Elspeth,

I need a curtain fashioned for a new work in the therapy tent. A drape that will conceal the therapist from the patient. It must be six spans tall and wide enough to cover a sanatorium bed. If you find it possible, fashion also a screen in the drape that will allow the therapist to see the patient's face. It is essential that the patient not see the countenance of the therapist. I cannot stress this enough.

Sincerely,
Dr. Manuel

----

Barker Clive woke late to the rocking of his trailer and the stretch of his bladder. He pulled on clothes and stepped out onto the road. It made little sense to fill his chamber-pot when he could find a stand of trees or a boulder close at hand.

A handy low wall presented him with his chance, and he relieved himself, sighing with the pure beauty of it. The sizzle of his spray, the breeze, the sun, the colorful trailers strung like beads along the long road. He buttoned himself and felt Ava's coin in his pocket. She had won. He had seen the young lady come out from Albert's trailer, disheveled and flushed. The giddy embrace of last night's luck evaporated and he felt the dread of having to admit a defeat.

He walked alongside the train towards the frontmost trailers where the star performers rolled. At Ava's door, he tapped with the coin and waited, downhearted in spite of the beauty of the day.

 

[darkangel76]

The blankets were drawn up to Elspeth's chin and the shutters were left ajar so that cool breezes could fill the room with the titillating aroma of the wildflowers that riddled the nearby woods. Her pressed flowers book rested lovingly on her bedside table and her lantern has been fully extinguished as tiny tufts of smoke rose into the air. She closed her eyes, thinking about painted faces smiling at her, one with a voice so sweet as he sang pretty words meant just for her, words that filtered into her trailer and lulled her to sleep with a smile upon her lips.

~~~

Morgaine let out a loud caw, her wings flapping once, twice, three times. Cassidy blinked and then smiled, a hand moving to touch her hair, fingers running through the wild brown tresses until they found themselves clutching the shawl wrapped about her shoulders. She glanced behind herself at the large bird as she toyed with the shiny buttons. Her head perked up, black beady eyes glinting at the mention of more. She swiftly flew to Cassidy's shoulder and perched herself there, as Mairon's fingers deftly worked on removing the rest.

Cassidy swallowed hard, unsure of what to make of everything. She looked at Morgaine out of the corner of her eye, giving her a look that said they'd have words much later and at a more appropriate time. The crow just preened her feathers, while awaiting her presents.

Feeling her cheeks heat—and fully blaming Morgaine—Cassidy leaned casually against the doorway of her trailer. "As you can see, sir, I've no where to go." She smiled a half smile. "You've most certainly caught me at a time when escape is impossible." Her fingers reached up for Morgaine who then pecked at her causing her to grimace. "Ouch," she yelped and brought her finger to her mouth. Her dark eyes narrowed at the bird as she gently sucked on the tip of her finger, trying to quell the sudden bit of pain. Morgaine just croaked happily. With her other hand, Cassidy extended it, her shawl falling slightly along her slim shoulders. "I'm sorry," she then said, eyes softening, skin flushed. "My manners. I apologize. Morgaine has put me in quite a state. Do forgive me." She laughed lightly and gestured Mairon enter. "My name is Cassidy."

Cassidy felt a nervous flutter deep in the pit of her tummy. The Great Jadú was standing in her doorway...talking to her. She felt lightheaded and had all she could do not to trip as she walked toward the bowl of buttons. So, he liked to hide things and make them visible again? She wondered what got him started in his trade. She'd liked hiding things too. Only it had been in her own pocket or home, though it had been a matter of survival.

But the thrill of knowing she could do it. That she was good at it. Did he get that same thrill?

"And, now tell me Mairon, just what is it you like to hide?" Cassidy then asked, her smile broadening.

~~~

"Of course it agrees with her," Rhianna stated before sipping her tea.

Felicity just stood there, eyes wide, hands precariously holding her teacup. She looked first at Rhianna and then over at the Doctor. She bit down on her lower lip and then nodded in agreement, eyes averting and fixing upon the cup she held tightly in her hands. "Y-yes," she said, almost whispered. Her hands finally steadied and she could see her reflection staring back at her in the liquid that filled her cup. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Yes," she said again, more confidently. She looked up at the Doctor and smiled. "It does. I'll be your research assistant."

Rhianna giggled and patted Felicity gently on the back. "I'm sure you'll learn a great many things," she said with a nod.

Felicity felt her confidence growing by leaps and bounds. She'd done it. She'd been welcomed into the carnival's family as one of their own, a true worker making her own way in the world! It was exactly as she'd hoped and dreamed. Faraviata was far behind her now and she had Kaland and several other places ahead of her that she and her new family would be visiting. She just hoped she'd do well by this secretive research she'd be a part of and just what it would mean as they worked and learned things. It sounded important. She'd never been a part of anything like that before.

"I'll do my best," Felicity said, her green eyes shining with hope and dreams.

Just then, there was a soft rap against the door and it opened up. Stella walked in, her shimmering hair done up with several soft ringlets cascading over her left shoulder. Her blue eyes focused on both Rhianna and Felicity and her pink lips pursed into a smile. As she stalked closer to the two, her hands forever smoothing the shiny powder blue satin of her skirt, the scent of lilac grew stronger. She tilted her head in acknowledgment of the two girls and then turned toward the Doctor.

Rhianna just giggled as she sipped on her tea and found a chair to sit upon. Her legs kicked back and forth much like that of a restless child, her eyes watching Stella as the young girl studied Felicity carefully. "The new research assistant," Rhianna added for good measure.

Felicity wasn't sure what to make of this ethereal looking creature as she circled close, hands reaching out while her fingers poked and prodded. It was disconcerting and made her nervous. Finally, Stella's smile grew so big she started to laugh. "How old are you, my dear?"

"What?" Felicity asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Your age. I want to know it." Stella was demanding, though her expression remained playful.

"I...well, I'm twenty-two," Felicity offered, her cheeks turning red.

"Perfect!" Stella exclaimed. "And you've never experienced any form of..." she giggled, a hand splayed across her abdomen. "Hysteria?"

"Hysteria?" Felicity gasped. "I...well, I've gotten hysterical over a few things. I..." she hung her head slightly. "I'd lost my bag and went into a fit over that. I was terrified I might never find it again. But fortune smiled upon me and..."

"Shh...there, there," Stella cooed, her hands brushing Felicity's hair. "You found a way to quell that hysteria," she said knowingly.

Felicity tilted her head, confused. "Well, yes."

Stella looked over at the Doctor and smiled. "See, this girl is a natural. She will indeed be perfect."

"I will?" Felicity asked.

"Yes, darling. You can help provide valuable information to our dear Doctor. As time goes on with the research, you will come to understand." Stella sighed. "Come now," she turned toward Doctor Manuel. "Let's get our research assistant acquainted with her new...position."

~~~

As the sun's golden rays shone upon Elspeth's face, she couldn't help but smile. She'd fallen asleep to the most beautiful music. Taking a deep breath, she drunk in the sweet smell of the air and...fell into a fit of coughs. When the coughing ceased, she slowly got up out of bed and went through the motions of her daily routine of opening the shutters and then sweeping out her trailer to prevent the build up of dust. When she opened her door, she found a note from the Doctor. It looked like the man was more serious about his research than people realized. But she didn't have the heart to tell him it was a farce. Setting the paper down on her table, she pulled out some fabric and immediately set to work.

~~~

The night before was still so very vivid in Ava's mind. Oh, she'd not miss Faraviata one little bit. She was happy to see the town fade into the distance and, with it, the memories of what happened there especially on their final night. Albert's trailer was right behind her own. Though, in that moment, she wished it was at the very back. Of course, that would never happen. Not so long as people like the Castor twins existed and worshipped the ground—or wire—he walked upon. He'd made such an ass of himself with that girl. Again. Just once she wished he'd think of others and not just what throbbed in his tights. But that wasn't very likely. People like Albert were incapable of seeing anything past their own reflection.

Trying her best to forget about Faraviata, Ava sat down upon her bed and stretched out her legs. She donned a comfortable tunic and sipped some coffee that Rhianna had scrounged up from one of their past exploits. It was strong, bold and she liked how it stung the back of her throat when she swallowed it down. Her dark eyes suddenly flitted over to the table where Barker's flower still rested and she reached for it, her fingers playing with it as she looked at it. She wondered what he'd truly been doing by her trailer at such an hour. It didn't seem like him to linger anywhere for too long, then again perhaps he'd come to gloat at Albert's misfortunes. Only...

Bah, she was over thinking things!

Just then, Ava's thoughts were interrupted by a light knock. She pushed herself up off the bed and opened the door. Barker stood there, coin in hand. Her eyes immediately were drawn to the shiny object and she remembered their wager. It seemed eons ago now.

"Hello jibber-jabber," Ava said, her lips turning up into a smile. "I take it you're exercising?" She gestured he come inside. Her trailer smelled heavy of coffee. "I've some coffee, if you'd like any," she offered, her palms suddenly sweaty. She rubbed them against her thighs in an attempt to dry them. "So what brings you this far up the line?" she asked. "I'd wager it's not just to share coffee with me."

Ava's insides twisted, her heart hammering hard. Pity no one saw what she truly wanted. Perhaps it was penance for being on top.