The Magic Carnival Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 3

  She watched Garth struggle with the change for a moment. It always took time for him to adjust to being able to see inside someone else’s head. Blago seemed to know just how to deal with him, and she let out a breath. Again, her eyes flicked back to Jack.

  He was watching her, his dark eyes filled with an intensity that stilled her breath and made her heart beat faster—just like a rabbit being chased by a hawk.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jack yawned as he approached an overburdened food table in the same large striped tent as the night before, this time set up with hot and cold breakfast options on large metal platters. There was nothing left to show there had been a raucous funeral reception here only hours earlier.

  He piled scrambled eggs and toast on his plate and headed for the closest empty table. It was still quiet around the Carnival, and they’d not seen anyone else on the walk from their borrowed caravan. Last night’s party had gone into the small hours of the morning.

  “That all you having, boy? You’ll need more to help you through the day.” His father placed his tray down on the table, the plate piled high with fried eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

  “I don’t think your doctor would approve of that meal,” Jack replied sternly, taking a bite of his scrambled eggs.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Blago took a big bite of the crisp bacon and chewed noisily.

  They ate silently for a couple of minutes, until Jack spotted Rilla at the food buffet, collecting toast and coffee. “She’s not what I would have expected,” he said to his father, nodding in Rilla’s direction.

  “She’d be knocked over in a high wind,” replied his father. “Don’t know what Abba was thinking, imagining a wee girl like that could be Ringmaster. Didn’t even work the room last night and had a scowl on her face half the time.”

  Jack took a sip of coffee. “It was her father’s wake, Dad. Give her a break.” He watched as she headed in their direction and paused in front of the table.

  He nodded. “Morning.”

  “Good morning. Mind if I sit with you?”

  “‘Course not, Rilla,” said Blago, a smile on his face. “The more the merrier.”

  “So, what did you think of your first night back, Blago?” she asked as she pulled out the chair and sat down.

  “Just like old times, my dear. Although, I had to go to bed earlier than I used to.”

  Rilla nodded and took a bite of her toast. She glanced at Jack with raised eyebrows.

  “It was interesting. I’ve never been to anything like it before.” Jack tried not to sound like he’d be happy if he never had to do anything like it ever again.

  Garth ambled over to their table, a glass of fruit juice in one hand. He sat down, nodding at everyone. Jack’s heart immediately started beating faster, the same as it had last night when Garth’s eyes had turned from perfectly normal to the disturbing all-black orbs that were again staring at him this morning. He’d only just managed to keep his cool, a distant memory from one of his father’s stories helping him figure it out. His father had put one hand on his shoulder and given him a meaningful look. It had only been later, as he lay in the too-short bed in their rickety caravan, that he’d realized the implications. If that one small part of his father’s stories had been true, how much of the rest of it was?

  Even thinking about it again made him feel cold all over. His eggs suddenly tasted like sawdust, and he put down his fork.

  A scrawny teenager, hair sticking up all over his head, arrived at the table. “Mornin’, Rilla,” he said, glancing around the table. He was clearly agitated, bouncing from one foot to the other as he waited for Rilla to acknowledge him.

  “Joey, what’s the news?” she said.

  “They put up the Carousel early this morning,” he said with barely suppressed excitement. “It’s a dragon.”

  “What?” Rilla’s eye’s widened.

  “Yeah.” He nodded, his face serious. “They were as shocked as you are now. But it was there, all right.”

  “I’ve never seen a dragon.” Rilla sounded awed. She looked… excited. There was a hint of a smile lurking around the corner of her mouth, the first sign of a positive emotion that Jack had seen on her face since he’d arrived. He leaned forward, studying her more closely. He was right. It did light up her eyes.

  “There’s a reason we’ve never seen one, Rilla.” Garth’s tone was irritated. “It’s a nightmare. Risky, rough, and downright dangerous.” He was staring at Rilla with his blank, emotionless eyes. “What we need right now is a damn dolphin or a sea otter. A ‘true love’ or a ‘making friends’ Gift that we can sort out in five minutes.”

  Rilla leaned closer to Garth. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just what we need at a time like this. My father wouldn’t have been scared of a challenge like this, and neither should we.”

  “It’s not going to be easy,” replied Garth.

  “Can you imagine it?” Rilla’s eyes shone. “What did it look like, Joey? Was it fierce?”

  Joey had a similar expression on his face. “It sparkled like a diamond, Rilla. You gotta see it. This is going to be one hell of a ride.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should have a look at the…uh…dragon?” he said. He was suddenly desperate to see if any more of his father’s stories had been true.

  Rilla nodded. “Good idea. I want to see it, too. Let’s go.” She stood up and looked around the table. Garth and Blago stayed where they were.

  “You two go. I’ll check it out later, once I’ve finished.” Blago motioned to his half-eaten breakfast.

  “Tami’s making me a smoothie. She’ll be annoyed if I leave now,” said Garth.

  Jack stood and gestured for Rilla to lead the way.

  ***

  Jack followed behind Rilla as she led the way through the Carnival. It was quieter now that the storm wasn’t buffeting the canvas every which way, but everything seemed dismal in the harsh morning light.

  “So, you grew up here?” he asked Rilla, gesturing at the gaudy sideshow exhibits they were striding past.

  She turned and stopped, waiting for him to catch up. “Yes, I grew up here.”

  “What was it like?”

  Rilla frowned at him, her eyes like a stormy sea. “It was a normal childhood.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows. “I can promise you, growing up in a circus isn’t a normal childhood,” he said.

  Rilla sighed. “Okay, perhaps it wasn’t that normal. But my dad, he made sure it was wonderful.” Her voice wobbled. “He let the kids have fun and not take life too seriously.”

  Jack saw her face crumble as she tried to hold in the tears. “I’m sorry,” he said bluntly. “I lost my mother last year. I know how hard it is.”

  She nodded, but didn’t look his way for a while. They walked on in silence, Jack taking note of the sideshow attractions they were passing. “What’s this area called?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

  “It’s the strip,” said Rilla, her voice still throaty. She cleared it before continuing. “It’s where the main sideshows are located. This is where, along with the thrill rides, we draw in the crowds during the afternoon and early evening, before the circus opens. Once they’re here, we get them into the big top for the main attraction.”

  Jack nodded. It made sense. “How long do you usually stay at each venue?”

  “Two to three weeks. Sometimes more, if it’s a bigger town.”

  “But you don’t go into the cities?”

  Rilla shook her head. “No. They’re too big. We’d just get lost in the crowd. We usually follow the same circuit every year. People love the shows, and we love giving them.”

  Jack nodded and absorbed what she was saying. A small-town circus playing to the same people every year. No wonder they never made any money to fix the tents properly.

  “This is it,” said Rilla, gesturing in front of her as they turned a corner. “The Blue Carousel, made by the Grimoulet brothers as a tribute to survivin
g the shipwreck.”

  A beautifully maintained antique Carousel stood before them, bright and clean in the chilled morning air. Intricate designs depicted scenes of the sea in tones of blue and white.

  “The shipwreck?” This was a story he hadn’t heard.

  Rilla turned to him. “Where it all started. Your father didn’t tell you?”

  Jack shook his head, his eyes glued to the creation in front of him. “He talked about the Carnival. What he missed. The people. Nothing about a shipwreck.”

  “It’s our foundation story,” she said, turning back to the Carousel. “The original Nine were the only families to survive a shipwreck off the coast of New York in the early 1700s.” Her voice took on a musical rhythm, obviously reciting a story she knew well. “They were all coming to America to start a new life, and for most people on that ship, it ended in those stormy waters.”

  She moved forward and crouched down to touch the mosaic at the base of the Carousel. The shiny, handmade tiles depicted an old-fashioned sailing ship hurtling through massive waves. Rain and wind and lightning surrounded it, battering the ship with the worst nature had to offer.

  He looked closer and realized there were people drowning in the tiled waves.

  Rilla’s eyes locked with his, and he saw something swirling in their depths. A chill went down his spine.

  “The small group of survivors was on the last three vessels to be launched. Only one of the boats was an actual lifeboat. The other two were nothing more than flotation devices that had been thrown together by passengers from below-decks as soon as they realized the ship was going to sink. They were made of oak barrels and any spare wood from the ship, all roped together. They probably shouldn’t have even floated.

  “It was the middle of the night during a lunar eclipse and a violent storm, and as soon as they pushed away from the sinking ship they became disorientated. Instead of heading toward land, they were swept farther out to sea, then along the coast. It was a simple mistake that saved their lives.”

  “Everyone else died?” Jack couldn’t take his eyes off the images on the base of the Carousel. For a moment, he was convinced he could hear the screams of a dying woman amid the crash of heavy storm-tossed waves.

  “Most of the boats crashed into the rocky reef protecting that part of the shoreline. They all lost their lives, drowning in the rough seas or smashed against the rocks. Our ancestors survived.” Rilla led him up the Carousel steps, undoing the safety chain that stopped everyday punters.

  The Carousel’s thick central pillar was tiled in the blues of the sea, with mirrors and jewels adding an extra dimension and depth to the waves and ripples at its heart. The creatures on the Carousel’s poles all originated from the water, both real and mythical. Mermaids, dolphins, whales, and selkies watched him with jeweled eyes as he trailed after Rilla toward the back.

  “And from there, they decided to start a Carnival?” Jack let his doubt cloud his voice. It sounded like an intriguing tale they told the tourists. He didn’t need Rilla filling his head with more fantasy stories; he needed the real facts so he could help Blago win this competition for Ringmaster.

  Rilla searched his face. He raised his eyebrows when she continued to stare.

  She blinked and drew her own eyebrows together, her delicate scowl clouding her features, making her eyes darken and flash. But she seemed to come to a decision. “There was thunder and lightning in the storm that night,” she said. “It lit up the sky, giving them terrible glimpses of what was happening in the sea around them. They were petrified. People prayed to whatever gods they believed in, held on to whatever talismans they could find.”

  She gestured upward and just at that moment, someone turned on the lights. Above their heads, an animated lightning storm erupted, creating a magical light show that somehow, even in the morning sunlight, created an eerie sense of being in the middle of a violent storm.

  Jack shivered, his eyes returning to Rilla’s expressive face. He waited for her to continue.

  “The boats didn’t make it to the shore. They were hit simultaneously by a tree of lightning that broke all three apart and threw the survivors into the water. The Nine families should have drowned. But one way or another, every person on those three boats made it to the beach.”

  “What happened?” Despite himself, Jack was caught in the story. “How did they make it?”

  Rilla shrugged one graceful shoulder. “Promises were made.” She trailed a hand along the tail of a mermaid, her eyes focused on the bright scales. “They survived the night and forged a bond none of them could forget.”

  “But how? Who were they? Did they know each other?” Jack fired the questions at Rilla.

  “Of the Nine families, five were part of a traveling circus. My ancestor Sunrise Jolly was the leader, the Ringmaster even then.” She gave him a meaningful glance that he ignored. “The other four families included the Grimoulet brothers—who built Carousels—an engineer and his sister, a chef and his wife and children, and a professional gambler.”

  “That doesn’t explain anything. Something must have happened. How did they all make it to shore?” Jack placed his hand on the edge of a dolphin’s nose. It had been beautifully crafted, the lines graceful and the eye so real he was waiting for it to blink. It was even slightly warm to the touch.

  He lifted his hand off the dolphin’s nose.

  “It was a traumatic event. Like I said, promises were made.” Rilla gestured around her. “The Grimoulet brothers made this Carousel for the Carnival because they wanted to express what happened to them all that night. This was the only way they knew how to do it. They knew they’d been blessed. Some higher power had let them live, and they wanted to honor that.”

  “A higher power? Are you saying God saved them, so they all decided to become part of a traveling circus?” Jack was getting impatient. Rilla wasn’t telling him the real story, just mumbo-jumbo nonsense.

  “It wasn’t like that,” said Rilla. Her face took on a closed expression.

  He clenched his hand in an effort to keep quiet, but his impatience bubbled to the surface. “And what does all that have to do with the dragon?”

  Rilla tapped the toe of her boot on the wooden floor of the Carousel. It was the only indication she wasn’t as calm as she appeared. She continued as if she hadn’t heard his question. “Soon after they began traveling the country, things started happening. Strange things. It took a long time before they understood what it was about. But essentially, their lives, their second chance, was a blessing. One they had to pay for.”

  “Pay for?”

  “In Gifts. They began to help people they met along the way, grant their deepest desires, their secret wishes.” She moved forward again, her booted heels tapping on the wooden surface of the Carousel. “In return, the Nine families were able to live full and happy lives. For those of us still here—the descendants—we carry on the tradition, but for our own reasons, our own blessings.”

  She came to an abrupt halt, her eyes locked on the ride just ahead of them. “By the gods, he was right. It is fierce.”

  It was a brilliant blue-green creature woven around a pole, its eyes red jewels and its serpentine skin sparkling under the lights of the artificial storm over their heads. The dragon looked almost real; even its eyes seemed to turn and stare right back at them.

  Drawn by something he didn’t understand, Jack reached out a hand, only to have it slapped away by Rilla. “Don’t touch it!” she snapped. “It’s meant for the Mark, and only the Mark can touch it. Anyone else and it will only make it harder for us to do what needs to be done.”

  “And what needs to be done?”

  “We make a wish come true.”

  ***

  Granting wishes? Jack wanted to hit something. What did she take him for? He kicked a small, silver trashcan out of the way as he stomped the two paces up and down the tiny central aisle of his caravan. The entire vehicle shook with each step, the cups and saucers rattling on their
hooks.

  He’d kept his expression calm and had left with an excuse about checking for an urgent email. But now, back in their caravan, checking emails was the last thing on his mind. He paced like a caged lion, giving vent to his frustration.

  He wanted to get out of here, away from these people and their stupid stories. He wanted to get back to his life—his sane, normal life, where people acted in sane, normal ways. It was a life he’d worked hard to create, and he wanted it back. To hell with his father and his desire to become the Ringmaster. It was a stupid idea anyway.

  The door opened, and his father climbed the stairs into the small room. The cane came first, then the white hair, almost floating around his head of its own accord. “Jackie, here you are. What did you think of the Carousel? Impressive, isn’t it?” His father’s eyes were bright, his cheeks rosy red.

  “These people, Dad, they’re not normal—” he began.

  “Of course they’re not,” his father interrupted. “They’re completely different from ordinary people. That’s the whole point!”

  “I think you and I need to sit down and have a talk about all this.” Jack pushed his hand through his hair.

  “I don’t have time to talk. And neither do you. We have to convince everyone that I’m the best man for Ringmaster, not that little dab of a girl Abba raised. How can a girl like that expect to control a crowd of thousands in the big top?” Blago was talking a mile a minute, his face animated in a way that Jack hadn’t seen in a long time.

  Jack swore under his breath. “Are you sure about this, Dad? Do we really need to get involved? The Carnival is clearly struggling. Everything is patched and stitched up. It’ll be a lot of work to make this profitable again.”

  Blago smiled and clapped one hand on Jack’s arm. “It’s great you’re thinking like that, son. I knew I could count on you. But don’t worry. That kind of thing takes care of itself around here. We just have to worry about the Gift and the race for Ringmaster.”