Caroline set her clothes on the control board and searched for the two human men mounts. The thinner one with whip marks was on the outside row. He looked no different than the last time she’d inspected him. She touched the painted wood, smooth and cool. The bit in his mouth was studded with metal nails away from where they would burn people’s hands after heating up in the sun. The reins were leather and loose over his whipped sides.
She lowered herself to the ground and, feeling a little foolish, looked under the drape of the saddle. She reddened again when she realized that the creator had carved him with an erection under his artfully torn leather pants. Just not where anyone would see it unless they were like her and looking, and most people wouldn’t want to get caught checking a carousel mount’s penis.
Really, it was amazing what Madoc had been able to get away with on this carousel.
Acting on a hunch, Caroline moved to the center row and farther along the carousel to check the other human mount, the darker skinned man whose large chest was crisscrossed with a leather harness that hadn’t been in her dream. His eyes were closed as though he were in pain, his teeth bared because the bit was too large in his mouth. But although he was clearly human like the other man, he was as stylized as all the other mounts.
He was also hard when she checked. She didn’t have to check the horses, since their slender bellies were exposed and erection-free, thank God for small favors.
She sat back on her heels and stared at her first dream man in mount form, wondering, wondering…
This wasn’t making much in the way of sense. Had her dreams happened? They’d been exceptionally linear. But only last night’s had left marks.
Perhaps she was looking at this all wrong. She could have sleepwalked. She’d never sleepwalked before to her knowledge, and she didn’t know how she’d gotten the bites, short of stumbling multiple times into carousel horses’ mouths hard enough to look like bites but not hard enough to wake her up.
It didn’t sound plausible to her either. But she didn’t know what to think anymore. Over the last twenty-four hours, the possibilities had been becoming increasingly less likely, but that didn’t make them any less true.
If there was one thing she knew, though, it was that she had time—plenty of time, an excess of time—to figure out what was going on. She stood up again and went around the rest of the carousel, because it was quicker going clockwise than the way she’d come.
Right before Caroline reached the cage door she stumbled back into the giant spider and clung to its prickly legs. When she finally recognized what she was seeing, she screamed.
Rapid footsteps approached over grass and dirt.
“What happened, Miss Barrett? What’s wrong?”
Caroline really wanted to not be looking at the heart lovingly placed on top of a pair of deflated lungs, but she was having trouble looking away. She finally tore her gaze from the grisly sight. Geoff stood there, blank-faced as usual. But he was there, which was more than she could say for anyone else. Caroline pointed at the organs. Geoff climbed up and stared down at them.
“That’s not normal,” he said.
“You don’t say.” Caroline pulled herself back to her feet and took a few steps away from it. “None of the crew saw them? Madoc said it’s cleaned every morning, but I haven’t heard any cleaning—at least I haven’t woken up from it.”
“Yes, we cleaned the carousel this morning, Miss Barrett, before sunrise. It was not there when we cleaned it. Would you like for us to clean this for you?”
“Do you have to ask?” She’d almost said, No, we need to call the police, but she’d realized how stupid it was once she’d thought it. Bringing in the cops probably wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to do, even when there were random organs being left at what amounted to her doorstep.
Were those organs human? Were they of the man who might have caused these bruises and bites on her body? She had a vague idea that pigs had organs that could be confused for human. Was this just someone’s idea of a sick joke? Or was it a sign?
If the heart and lungs hadn’t been there this morning when the staff had cleaned the carousel, it occurred to Caroline that the person or thing responsible for putting them there had intentionally waited for the cleaning crew to leave.
As usual, Caroline just didn’t know why.
“What happened?”
Caroline whirled around to face Madoc, who looked up at her from the ground at the edge of the carousel.
“You tell me,” Caroline snapped at him. She covered her mouth right after she’d said it. One of the last things she needed to do was antagonize the evil jinni who was responsible for her being stuck here.
He didn’t acknowledge her rudeness, simply leaped onto the carousel to join Geoff. As he looked down at the mess, he tightened his jaw. His anger seemed genuine.
“This will be taken care of, Caroline. I assure you,” Madoc said. “I know you think the worst of me, and some of what you believe is true. However, I have a very strict policy here in Arcanium that none of my cast or staff are to be harmed. This will not escalate. The one responsible will be chastised.”
“Who—?” Caroline began.
“It doesn’t matter,” Madoc said. “You are not in danger, and it will not happen again. Go to Kitty’s trailer for a shower and get some breakfast. This will be cleaned up as though it was never here by the time you return.”
“But—”
“Go!” Madoc snapped.
Caroline scurried behind him and grabbed her clothes from the control board. Then she ran for the trailers without looking back.
Chapter Six
Once again, she managed to make it through the day without losing her shit. She was actually kind of proud of herself for that.
She felt on edge, though, her eyes jerking to the side every time someone laughed a little too loudly. No one commented on the bruises and bite marks, mostly because she didn’t give the cast a chance—in and out at breakfast, avoiding all gazes—and because the customers didn’t give a damn.
She didn’t blame them for that. As long as she didn’t wait too long between the music stopping and starting, she was forgettable. She might as well be another mechanical part of the carousel. That relieved her. Any notice would complicate things far more than they already were, and they couldn’t save her.
She just had to make it a year. Making it a year didn’t mean she had to distinguish herself or spend any time with the rest of the people working in Arcanium—especially the people who wanted to be here. The people who were here on purpose might have been tricked into it like Caroline, but why the hell would any of them still want to be here after finding out what it was?
She supposed a person could get used to just about anything.
Well, screw that. She wasn’t going to be that kind of girl. She wasn’t going to get used to it. She was just going to survive it, take her money, then when it was over, get the fuck out. She’d never go to another circus, carnival or midway again. She’d curse the sound of arcade games. And never ride another carousel.
* * * *
Slow, cold dread roiled in the pit of her stomach as she fell asleep. Tomorrow, they would be leaving her hometown and going God knew where. She’d officially be out of reach.
Caroline remembered as she drifted in the semi-darkness how she had been so excited to be a part of this place, to travel with them, to see new things. That felt like years ago.
She was startled awake once again, but this time it wasn’t a sound from the platform.
The cabin gave a great shudder, knocking her about where she lay against the cushions. Then the flat end of the cabin with the fridge and mirror started to rise up, rolling her toward the curved end, the part that was covered with cushions like the bed.
The carousel was turning on its side.
Suddenly, all the latches on the drawers, the storage space, the fridge and the door made sense. Caroline clung to her pillow and blankets, trying to c
alm her breathing, until the carousel cabin rocked slightly on its curve. She now rested completely on the cushions that lined the wall on the other side of her bed, which showed the practicality of that particular design as well.
The carousel shuddered again. Caroline had the distinct sensation of being swung in a hammock. She heard the creaking groan of metal on metal.
Then there was the purr of an engine. The carousel was on a vehicle.
Caroline cautiously fished around for her cell phone, which had fallen somewhere under her when the cabin had turned on end. It was four o’clock in the morning.
The circus must leave before dawn. Ever the illusion of mystery. First the circus was there and then it was gone, with little more than sawdust and litter to suggest it had ever been.
Even more cautiously, Caroline climbed up the curved side of the cabin. It took an extra-long reach, but she was able to unlatch the door, push it open then pull herself into the opening.
She couldn’t see the world passing by. Instead, there was corrugated metal sheeting with holes, like on the kind of tractor trailer that moved livestock. She glimpsed poles in the darkness, and at their bottom, amorphous shapes. The carousel mounts. They had taken the carousel apart and put her in the truck with them.
Caroline had to admit, the whole setup was clever. She could be transferred with the carousel when it was dismantled, and they didn’t even have to disrupt her sleep, this time notwithstanding. That’s what the cushions on the wall were for, for whoever it was to roll her onto the side, and she’d still be in bed. Madoc had thought of everything.
She blearily wondered whether the carousel cabin had been there when he’d first shown the carousel to her or whether he’d created it for her after she’d made the wish.
The truck hit a pothole. Some of the objects in the truck didn’t move like the rigid mounts. People. Many black-clothed people. Crew. The minor good feelings she’d had toward Madoc faded when she realized he was probably the reason they were packed in here like farm animals, not even a tiny half-moon cabin to their name.
“Are you okay?” Caroline asked the sea of mannequin eyes.
“Don’t worry about us, Miss Barrett,” said Geoff.
She couldn’t find him in the mass, but she recognized his voice.
“We’re just fine. Go back to sleep.”
No, they were not just fine, but she wasn’t in any position to argue. Her arms hurt over the sides of the door, and it wasn’t like she could invite them all in with her—nor did she want to. She pulled the door closed behind her and slid back down to the bed. Knowing that she was in a tiny cabin in a moving truck ironically made her cabin feel even smaller, but the air conditioning unit kept moving cool air through, reminding her that she could breathe. Caroline closed her eyes and covered herself in her blankets. Dreamless sleep awaited her return.
* * * *
Arcanium had settled into their new lot in what seemed like record time to Caroline. It was almost indistinguishable from the previous lot. But it was at least a few hours and therefore a few hundred miles away from where they had been. It had been all Caroline could do to convince herself to get up out of the cabin and into daylight.
The rest of the circus folk milled around the big top. Some of them rehearsed. Some of them carpooled with Maya to a shopping center for supplies and a little R&R. And the rest did whatever they did in private. Caroline didn’t concern herself with any of these things, even the prospect of a coffee run. She’d shaken her head when Maya had asked her if she wanted anything. As a voluntary cast member, she had certain privileges, but she was still contesting that ‘voluntary’ label, and she didn’t want anything they had to give her.
It wasn’t that she was sulking, although it sometimes seemed that she was, even to herself. No matter how nice some of the cast members were, she had to remember they’d chosen a side.
“I know you probably want nothing to do with a lot of us,” Kitty said. She sat down at the table next to Caroline, who was by herself, eating the dinner that the staff had cooked up for the cast. At least this one had green vegetables in it that weren’t surrounded by fried breading.
Caroline fixed her gaze on her plate and didn’t reply.
“Bell tells me it’s time to get to work on your hair and makeup. Sasha has your leather ready for you, and I think I’ve found a few things from Valorie’s old wardrobe that you can try on. You get my whole evening,” Kitty said. “We have my tent to ourselves.”
“What if I don’t want to look pretty for the customers? What if I just want to blend into the background like the rest of the crew until I can leave?” Caroline asked.
“Where’s the fun in that? Look, Caroline, you don’t have to like Bell or the Ringmaster. You don’t have to like any of the other demons. You don’t even have to like me. But there’s absolutely no reason why your year with us has to be awful. That’s not why Bell brought you into this. Believe me, if he wanted you unhappy, you’d know it. Just ask Misha, our sword swallower, or John, Shawn or Melanie. The ones here because Bell’s displeased with them know it. Now, do you want this next year to be miserable? Or do you want to have a little fun? You were looking forward to being a part of things before you knew about the other side of Arcanium. You can still enjoy those things.”
Caroline set down her utensils. “Why are you okay with all of this?” she asked, finally meeting Kitty’s eyes. “The way I see it, it makes you no better than an accomplice to whatever they do.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Kitty said. She stroked Caroline’s hair. “They’d be doing it whether I was here or not. And Arcanium is the best place for me. It’s home. I don’t think that makes me a bad person just because some of the people I work with might be considered bad people.”
“There are bad people who do things, and bad people who see it and do nothing,” Caroline retorted.
“Then there are the bad things in the dark that are meant to be there. They’re not the same thing as bad people, Caroline,” Kitty said gently. “I don’t expect you to understand that yet. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But Bell would like you to be cast instead of crew, and I think you’ll have a better year in costume than in self-imposed isolation. Don’t you agree?”
Caroline lowered her eyes. “Can I finish my dinner first?”
“Sure,” Kitty said. “I have ingredients for margaritas in my fridge. Do you want me to make you one? It seems like one of those nights, and you might enjoy yourself more if you can relax a little.”
“Please, yes,” Caroline replied. One drink. Or seven. Seven might not be too bad. She’d suffer the hangover for a little oblivion.
“Two’s my limit for anyone human,” Kitty warned her, as though she knew what Caroline was thinking. “If you want to go out and get drunk, you have to…you know…go out.”
“Damn. Fine. Whatever.”
“All right. I’ll see you in my tent.” Kitty paused before leaving then leaned over and kissed the top of Caroline’s head. Her beard, bound in a tail, brushed softly against Caroline’s shoulder.
* * * *
Caroline hesitated outside Kitty’s tent, wondering if she was stepping over her own line by interacting with someone who embraced Arcanium—or at the very least turned a blind eye.
But Madoc wanted her to be cast instead of crew, and she didn’t know what he would do if she denied him. She hadn’t wished for that, but she had agreed for him to basically be her boss. From what she could tell from her research, she was kind of at the mercy of his power over the wish. He could make it into whatever he wanted, not necessarily what she had intended.
He could say he liked her and that she was safe all he wanted. She didn’t trust him not to change his mind. He could force her to be the carousel engineer he wanted. And Kitty would help him. Caroline was sure of it.
She lifted the tent flap and walked in. It smelled like a cantina. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief at the two glasses on the vanity. Kitty stood up from her cot, where
she had been reading a hardback novel.
“Glad you could make it. Have a seat and a drink,” Kitty said. Her long hair had been pinned up into a prodigious bun, and she’d braided her bound beard so that it took up less space.
“Do I really want you working with my hair while drinking?” Caroline asked.
“It’s not usually recommended, but I could do hair bare-ass drunk if it came down to it. I’m just having one, and I don’t plan to do any driving while trimming. I think you’ll be safe.”
“You think?”
“I’ve done Joanne and Jane’s hair after two glasses of scotch. I think I can do your hair on a margarita,” Kitty said. She took a standard brush from her kit and ran it gently through Caroline’s hair, working through the tangles and getting a good look at it.
“Which ones are Joanne and Jane?” Caroline asked.
“The conjoined twins,” Kitty replied.
“Okay, you can have the other drink.”
“Have you given any thought as to anything you would like done to your hair? I can braid it up like Valorie’s, or we can give it a more visually interesting cut. I understand you’re in college, probably didn’t have time or money to do more than a trim and a store-bought dye job. That’s not a dig, by the way. I’m hardly one to throw stones about hair choices.”
“I hadn’t planned on doing anything,” Caroline said. Kitty had called it—other than getting it trimmed every six months and dyeing it a richer box blonde when the dull roots showed too much, she didn’t do much with her hair. Headbands and elastic bands were her friends. “I’m afraid to say you should do whatever you want, but I wouldn’t know what to ask for.”
“How do you feel about color streaks?” Kitty asked. “You have an advantage over Maya, with such blonde hair. I had to get Bell’s help for Maya’s red. There are some upsides to having a magical boss. I mean, I could do Maya’s hair without his help, but it would be much higher maintenance, bleaching and redyeing. With you, it would be a matter of a simple touchup.”
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