The Magic Carnival Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 6

  Leaning over, she yanked again, this time causing pages to rip. She swore and reached in with both hands, carefully edging the notebook out of its hiding place.

  She opened the pages, and her father’s flamboyant handwriting leaped out at her, filling the book with big, looping letters, splashy dots, and slashing crosses. He’d even written larger than life.

  Rilla peered closely at the words. At first, she struggled to make sense of the cryptic comments, but she soon deciphered the simple pattern her father had used to disguise his notes.

  He’d been documenting everything that had gone wrong over the last two years, the people who had been at the Carnival, and who could have manufactured each episode of sabotage. He’d made lists of names—some crossed out, others with asterisks marking them. She knew everyone on his lists, many since she was a baby. The thought of one of those people being guilty made her feel queasy.

  One thing was obvious—he’d thought it was an inside job, or at least someone working with an insider. Rilla struggled to think of someone who would deliberately harm anyone at the Carnival. But her father had taken the threat seriously. He’d been suspicious of everyone.

  A name caught her eye as she flicked through the pages, and she turned back a page. Blago Knight. Jackanapes Knight. She sniggered. Jack’s full name was as bad as hers. Some Carnival traditions made no sense.

  But as the implications dawned on her, her mood darkened. Two of the people named in her father’s journal as suspects just happened to turn up right after her father’s death to try and take over as Ringmaster? It was a pretty big coincidence.

  A tremor raced down her spine. They’d welcomed Blago and Jack into the Carnival with open arms. What if they weren’t the innocent bystanders they appeared to be?

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. There were other people on her father’s list. She shouldn’t leap to conclusions just because they were trying to steal her inheritance and she wanted them gone.

  But what were the chances it was a coincidence? It was possible, but why would they come back now, after Abba’s death? Blago’s time, his thirty-three years, had been up at least five years ago. Why hadn’t he come back earlier?

  Rubbing one finger over the familiar spidery, black handwriting, Rilla let her thoughts wander. Could Jack and Blago be here to finish off the sabotage they’d started years before? Did Blago have a grudge against the Carnival for kicking him and his family out all those years ago?

  Whoever had been planning and carrying out the attacks on the Carnival had been doing it continuously for at least two years, if not longer. It took a serious grudge for a sustained attack like that. But then Rilla remembered the anger simmering in Jack’s eyes when she talked to him about the shipwreck and their magic, and her impression of him as a predator.

  She nodded slowly. She trusted her father’s hunches.

  Perhaps they’d come to see if there was any trace of the evidence her father had found. They could be here to cover up the crime they’d committed.

  A loud knock banged on the metal door of her caravan, and Rilla jumped. She stared at the door as if it was going to leap up and attack her. Who would call at this hour? Everyone should be preparing for the show.

  Forcing herself to settle her nerves, Rilla yanked open the door, her father’s notebook still in one hand, and the scattered piles of paper underfoot.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. Jack was at the entrance, his dark eyes trained directly on her. What was he doing here? Did he know something? She glanced down and saw the notebook. Whipping it behind her back, she looked back at Jack.

  Damn. Had he noticed?

  He cleared his throat, and Rilla realized she was staring wide-eyed at him. But he hadn’t moved and he appeared less angry than last time she’d seen him. He seemed just as unable to talk as she was.

  Then another voice interrupted. “Rilla, we need to talk,” said Garth from where he was standing beside Jack.

  She frowned at Garth. What was he doing hanging around with Jack?

  “We think we might have another problem,” continued Garth urgently. “We’ve just been talking to Viktor. He says the dragon is directly connected to the weakening of the Carnival. If we don’t do the Gift correctly, the Carnival will be destroyed.”

  ***

  Jack looked at Rilla’s big eyes, obviously red from recent tears, and wished he wasn’t there. He could feel the grief welling up in the caravan like a physical presence. It resurfaced his own still-raw feelings over his mother’s death, and for a moment he struggled with a lump in his throat.

  Then he narrowed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. He needed his wits about him here in the Carnival. Every time he felt he was getting a handle on things, something new arrived that turned it all upside-down again. He was constantly at a huge disadvantage.

  On top of everything else, the way he was feeling toward Rilla didn’t help. His father’s words had put ideas in his head. He ached to step closer to her, to see if he could smell her perfume. Maybe reach out a hand and wipe away the marks from the tears that had been falling down her porcelain cheeks. He knew and understood her pain, and it was creating a sense of connection to her that he was struggling to suppress.

  His hand clenched. If he was going to convince these people his father was the best person to lead the Carnival then he was going to have to step on Rilla’s toes. She wasn’t going to like him for it—that was certain. His father’s notions of Jack wooing Rilla were unrealistic, and Jack knew it, even if his father didn’t.

  Jack just wished he could get the idea of kissing Rilla out of his head. He forced himself to focus on the conversation in front of him.

  “Viktor’s full of old stories, half of which aren’t entirely accurate,” Rilla was saying to Garth.

  Garth shook his head. “He checked in with the librarian. Indigo said it matched her records.”

  Rilla’s face went white. “Then we have to make sure this Gift goes perfectly. Who’s watching for the Mark?”

  “I’ve already got Joey stationed next to the Carousel. We need a meeting of the Nine tonight.”

  Rilla nodded and glanced at Jack. “What about the contest for Ringmaster. Surely…?”

  Garth shook his head. “The rules are clear. Nothing can stop this Gift, and nothing can stop the leadership battle. The show must go on.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Rilla took a deep breath, trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach. It was worse than usual tonight. A sick feeling rose in her throat, and she had to clamp her lips tight to control the need to throw up. She peeked through the curtains to watch the crowd filing into the big top.

  There weren’t enough people. She could tell just by looking. It wasn’t going to be a full house.

  The butterflies turned feral, and for a moment she was convinced she had piranhas swimming in her belly, chewing up her insides.

  With everything else that had been going on, she’d almost managed to forget the empty Carnival bank account. They needed to sell out in Mountain Springs to keep everything afloat. The bank was demanding payments on their loans, and they’d stopped asking nicely.

  Just another problem to add to the list.

  “Hey, Rilla. How’s it going?” Joey appeared at her side, his eyes bright with the excitement of opening night.

  “The usual. How about out front? You helping?”

  “Yeah. It’s all under control. Blago’s there, as well.” Joey’s voice held a tinge of hero-worship. Blago was almost as charismatic as her father had been and was dragging up old friendships and making new ones everywhere. Rilla wanted to tell Joey what she’d found out about Jack and Blago, to knock that dazzled look off his face, but knew she couldn’t. She’d have to find proof before making accusations.

  Jack and Garth were getting chummy, as well. They’d been full of Viktor’s story of the destruction associated with the dragon Mark. She shook her head. She’d reserve judgment until something concrete
showed up. For now, the dragon just meant a beautiful and wondrous creature in their midst. She meant to make the most of it.

  “Rilla? I asked you a question.” Joey frowned up at her.

  “Sorry, Joey, my head’s in the clouds.”

  “Do you think the Mark will show up tonight? Blago thinks they will.”

  Rilla took a moment to calm the angry piranhas chewing on her stomach at the mention of Blago. “I don’t know, Joey. We’ll find out tonight. Is someone watching the Carousel?” Why wasn’t Joey out there right now, making sure they knew what was about to happen?

  “Garth put Jack on it. Said it would give him good practice.”

  “Jack?” Rilla felt like screaming. “But he doesn’t know what to look for. He’s got zero knowledge of how it works. He doesn’t even believe in it, for crying out loud.”

  Joey nodded. “Yeah, but Garth says he’ll start believing once he sees the Mark get on the dragon. I said I’d help him watch. I just wanted to check in with you first.”

  Rilla closed her eyes for a moment and tried to calm her breathing. She needed to be focused, especially now. She couldn’t worry about the Mark or Blago and his annoying, sticky-beak son. She had a show to do.

  The show must go on, my girl.

  “You go take over for a while, let him see the show.” She’d show him exactly how it was done. She’d knock his damn socks off.

  Joey nodded and raced away.

  ***

  Jack pulled aside the tent flap, nodding to the young circus hand standing at the entrance, keeping watch.

  “Evening.”

  “Where’s the best place to watch?” Jack whispered.

  “Just over there.” He pointed. “Climb up the seats a row or two so’s you can see the clowns properly.”

  Jack wandered along the narrow aisle, trying to get a sense of the performance. The crowds were captivated, and he could see why. The tent had come alive. Rows of fairy lights twinkled up high, casting a glow over the entire big top and hiding the patches and rough edges that had been obvious in the daylight. Music filled the enclosed space, real and raw and exciting. He saw the live band in one corner and, despite himself, was impressed.

  He hadn’t realized it would be like this.

  In the center of the big ring, three clowns were running after several small white dogs, tipping and turning them over their bodies, and through hoops. It was so fluid and well organized that several times Jack flinched when they seemed about to collide, only to see them roll perfectly to one side just in time.

  “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to train your dogs. Give them all a round of applause! This is one group of animals that loves to receive your attention.” Jack’s eyes went from the performing dogs to the back edge of the ring where Rilla’s voice had emerged. Moments later, she appeared under the light, sparkling like a diamond.

  Her slender legs were encased in skintight black pants. Her red ringmaster’s jacket was a sexy scrap of material, and the silver corset underneath accentuated Rilla’s curves. She wore knee-high boots and a tiny, off-center black top hat, with a leather whip in one hand to finish off her outfit, creating a Ringmaster unlike any he’d ever seen.

  His eyes were fixed on her as she strode into the center of the ring, pausing in the middle of a spotlight surrounded by complete darkness elsewhere on stage. She smiled at her audience as they clapped, just as she had bid them. Jack found himself clapping alongside the rest of them.

  Rilla took a couple of strides in one direction and the spotlight stayed on her like glue. She held up her whip and gave it a practiced crack in the air above her head. The noise focused attention just over her head, and everyone watched as a large mirror ball lowered into the spotlight. She glanced up, smiled, and then flicked the whip again.

  The audience gasped as thousands of confetti pieces fluttered down from the now-split ball, filling the air with a glittering snowfall. Jack noted the specially placed lights that caught the confetti just right.

  The magic of the circus, indeed.

  “We’re about to take you farther into the dreamland that is the Jolly Carnival. Join us as we thrill you, scare you, and amaze you. Don’t hold your breath when you see something wondrous—you won’t breathe all night, and that’s not good for your health.” She strutted across the ring, closer to where Jack sat, and he went still. Against his will, he leaned forward. For a moment, he felt like he was drowning in her blue eyes. A warm feeling rushed through his body, and he found that he couldn’t look away from where Rilla performed in the ring.

  He shook his head and frowned. What was happening to him? He leaned back and crossed his arms, forcibly breaking the connection.

  In the center ring, Rilla swept her arms toward a darkened spot far above their heads. “Lift your gaze toward the sky and prepare to fall in love with our next performer. The lovely Mississippi will delight and astound you as she flies through the air with the greatest of ease…” With a flick of her wrist, Rilla had every pair of eyes in the tent directed to the ceiling where a spotlight showed a woman dangling from a red silk ribbon. The spotlight over Rilla disappeared, and she was gone.

  But no one other than Jack noticed. Everyone was focused on the woman on the ribbon, her body encased in a tight red leotard. She began a slow, exotic dance high in the air, using the silk rope as her only connection to the world. Matching music, slow and sexy, enhanced her seduction.

  Her limbs appeared made of liquid as she flowed over and under and around the ribbon. Jack managed to pull his eyes away from her to glance around the room. The audience was mesmerized by the small figure over their heads.

  At one point she fell, her hands losing their grip on the ribbon, and the room gasped in unison. Jack half-stood, as if he could do something to help her. But seconds later, she reconnected with the ribbon, grasping it tight and executing such a complicated twist Jack knew it was part of the act. Her grin moments later confirmed it. Jack sat back down, feeling foolish.

  The performance ended with Mississippi landing softly on the ground in the middle ring, having twisted and twirled her way down—sometimes slowly, showing off her immense strength, sometimes fast, making them all fear for her safety.

  Mississippi bowed, hugging the ribbon like it was a part of her body. Thunderous applause surrounded her, and she threw kisses out to the audience, smiling and waving as the light dimmed around her.

  In the second, smaller ring, Rilla appeared under another spotlight, one that gradually became wider and wider. Her step was jaunty as she directed their attention away from Missy and onto the next act, which came stomping into the ring in her wake.

  The elephants.

  This time, Rilla stayed for the act. She gave an apple to one of the smaller calves as she spoke to the crowds. “Our elephants came to us from deepest, darkest Africa, where no man or woman has ever set foot. My father’s father’s father called to them from the edges of their land, and they came to him, tame as any pet. He asked them to travel with him, and those brave ancestors came to America on a boat that almost sank three times in mighty storms. They bring peace and understanding and show us that we do not know everything there is to know about this glorious world.”

  While she spoke, the elephants formed a circle around her, facing inward. As one, they lifted their trunks and made a high-pitched call that sent a frisson of disquiet down Jack’s spine. Then they turned in unison and faced the audience. One of the larger elephants lifted a leg into a bent position, and in one easy motion, Rilla leaped from the leg onto the creature’s back. Lifting one hand, she sent out a beautiful smile as the elephant slowly raised itself up onto its back legs, holding its front legs in the air. It lifted its trunk again and let out another call into the silence of the room.

  Something about the way the elephant was standing on two legs made it seem more human. Rilla’s story of the elephants choosing to leave their homeland stopped being a ridiculous tale and started to seem like it could be true. Jack frowned
. He knew it couldn’t be, but a lingering doubt was enough to give him a newfound respect for the show unfolding before him.

  Whatever else, they could weave a good story.

  Throughout the rest of the show, he was amazed beyond his expectations. Rilla captivated the spotlight whenever she came on stage, but it was all engineered so beautifully that when she left, the act on stage became everything to the audience. And he wasn’t the only one who was impressed with the performance. The excitement and delight on the faces of the adults as well as the children around him were very real.

  Jack stood and clapped along with everyone else as Rilla and the rest of the acts did a final bow for the audience, the atmosphere alive with the magic that had been created.

  “Jack! Jack!”

  Jack jumped when he heard his name. He turned around, trying to find whoever wanted him.

  “C’mon, Jack, the Mark’s entered the Carnival.” Joey’s loud whisper came from just below him, and Jack looked down between his legs to see the young boy under the bleachers. On stage, Rilla was winding down, letting the performers take their final bows. “Okay, I’m coming.” He’d seen enough for one night.

  “Quick or we’ll miss it!” Joey raced off ahead, not checking to see if Jack followed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  He didn’t know what he’d expected, but this wasn’t it.

  The Mark was a morose young woman, early twenties, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with long dyed-red hair framing her face. There was a small silver ring through her nose and she wore dark eyeliner that emphasized her melancholy look. She leaned on a cane when she walked. Jack noticed patchy blue nail polish on the fingers that grasped the wooden stick. She and her friend were in line for the Carousel, both talking quietly.