by Mia Strange
“And of Misfits.” Dark twirled his cane and hammered the gong again. The image of Jin and I, decked out in full theatrical makeup dropped down next to it. The painting was new. We wore bright wigs, Jin in pink, me in cobalt blue. Goggles covered our eyes. We were impossible to recognize. I squinted. My corseted breasts looked bigger. Much bigger. Jin was our artist.
“What the hell?” I whispered to her.
“What?”
“My boobs?”
“Needed help.”
“Quiet you two,” The Bone Man said. “Watching.”
“And last,” Dark continued, “but of course, not least, our resident freak. Meet Zombie Phil. All the way from Missouriiiii.”
Tossing his cane into the air, Dark snatched it back, grabbing it like a baseball bat. He swung, hitting the gong hard. The sound echoed over the crowd. The canvas of The Bone Man and Zombie Phil dropped. The crowd gasped and I could see why. The Bone Man looked impossibly tall and so unnaturally thin, I worried Jin might have captured the real Bone Man a bit too much. But it was Phil that took my breath away.
The zombie, frozen in a snarling pose, had rotting flesh dripping from his legs, arms, and face. His pointed teeth had been greatly exaggerated, and the human arm he was gnawing on was mangled and bleeding and- wait. It was a female arm. The hand had on my onyx ring.
“Jin! That’s–”
“Your arm. I know.” She clapped and did a little jig. “Don’t you love it? It’s like a secret message within the painting. True art.”
“Unbelievable.” I had a sudden headache.
“You don’t have to thank me or anything. Just buy me a pack of gum or something.”
I rubbed my temples, and then looked once more, fixated this time on the image of Traveler Hale. Suspended above The Bone Man and Phil, his corded arms were straight out on each side, his bare toes pointed. Jin had captured his black eyes perfectly. As I stared into them, the portrait winked. I heard his soft laughter from up above. I glared up at him. Just damn his black magic. I looked once more at the canvas. The wicked, surgical steel hooks that pierced Traveler’s back dripped with blood. I looked away. A wave of nausea washed over me. This was so dangerous. For all of us.
The crowd cheered and whistled. “Bring it,” someone yelled. “I ain’t afraid of no zombie,” someone else shouted. “Where’s the girl with the big tits?” A man screamed over the noise.
“Oops,” Jin whispered. “I hope that guy won’t want a refund.”
“Great, Jin. Just great.” My head throbbed. The Bone Man laughed behind me.
“Ah, my good citizens. Yes. Without further delay, I give to you, the one, the only, The Fantastical Traveling Troupe Academy of –”
The stage floorboards under my feet shook with vibration. Ceiling plaster, left on the ruins of exposed beams, cracked, and a cloud of fine dust rained down. What little was left of The Neptune Theater’s stain glass windows, shattered. The last glass images of mermaids and Poseidon smashed to the floor. A replica trident, forged in iron, fell from the only part of the old ceiling that remained and forked to the stage, narrowly missing Dr. Dark.
Dark didn’t flinch, blink or move one muscle.
The corroded gates fell to the floor, the metal exploding into bits of rust and metal. A huge shadow fell across the crowd.
I grabbed The Bone Man’s hand. We both drew knives. Jin had a can of KRYLON out, a lighter already lit. I didn’t have time to marvel where in the hell she had hidden that. Traveler Hale landed next to me, this time not quite so softly. Turk’s lion roared and lunged at the creature entering the theater. It took all of Turk’s strength to restrain the animal.
A hemp rope ladder dropped down onto the stage with a loud thump. I looked up at The Dark Destiny bobbing above us in the huge gutted hole in the roof. Pilot looked over the teak rail. Watching. Waiting.
Once again, a hush fell over the crowd and the house lights came up. Dr. Dark stood calmly, with one hand on Dagger’s head, his cane in the other. His eyes narrowed. He waited.
Bishop West stood up, a frown creasing his brow in disapproval. “I see you have finally decided to join us, Mr. Cane.”
A tall man, dwarfed by the shadow of the creature, stood in the broken doorways holding a chain leash draped over his broad shoulder.
“Indeed, Your Honor.” He bowed. “I’m sorry for the late hour. “My companion,” he motioned to the creature behind him, “was hungry.”
I looked at his ‘companion.’ The monster had fresh blood dripping from its huge mouth. Its wide tongue licked over thick, bulbous lips, lapping up what looked like the remains of a human finger. It bit down. Crimson pooled on the floor.
“No one’s a vegetarian anymore,” Jin whispered.
“The Freemont Troll,” The Bone Man said beside me.
“Troll?” Jin and I said at the same time.
“Now see,” said The Bone Man. “This is why you guys need to read Site History.”
“But-” I started to protest.
“All of it.” He cut me off.
Damn it. The Bone Man knew me too well. I was a serial skimmer.
“He brought the Troll to life,” Traveler said. I didn’t know when he had ‘landed’ next to us, but in true Traveler Hale form, here he was. As silent and spooky as always.
“What? How?” I looked to Traveler for answers.
“It is as Elijah feared. Jacoby Cane is a geomancer.”
Jin gasped. “This guy is Jacoby Cane? The Gov’s Mad Scientist?”
“The Tinker from The Rust. Yes. This is the man.” Traveler frowned. His eyes flashed amber. This time, I knew the color was real. “He animates rebar and concrete,” Traveler said with contempt. “Let him try flesh and bone.”
“What’s a geo-whatever?” Jin asked.
“Trouble,” Turk said. He glanced at me and then turned his attention to Dark. “All you need to know is that this is big-ass trouble.”
I narrowed my eyes and studied the man who stood cloaked in the shadow of the Troll. I knew what a geomancer was and if I hadn’t? The bricks and stone all around us were telling me. The elements spoke in frantic whispers and hushed, reverent tones. They were frightened of this man, and I didn’t blame them.
A gifted geomancer could bend the earth elements to his will. Command the sands in Egypt, tumble the tall, spire red rock hoodoos in the Southwest. He could read the topography of the land, change what he didn’t like, confuse a traveler, derail a train. He could make monsters out of stone. But mostly?
He could find Ley lines.
I looked at Dr. Dark. There was nothing written in his milky pale eyes. Not fear, not panic, not concern. He simply stood, not once taking his gaze from the man held in shadow.
“Impressive as he is, Mr. Cane,” said Bishop West. “Can you please leave your, how did you say it? Ah, yes. Your companion. Please leave your companion, outside, next to what used to be, I believe, were doors.”
Even with the please, it was an order. Not a request.
Jacoby Cane ignored the request, and walked toward the Bishop, into the light. His Troll lumbered with him, rattling rafters, shaking tiles. The creature’s huge hands fisted and scraped along the floorboards. Stringy hair covered one eye. And as near as I could tell, the monster was green. Moss green. A fitting color for the Pacific Northwest.
Jacoby Cane, a tall slender guy, somewhere in his early twenties, appeared at first glance, to be more tin than man.
Each of his fingertips were covered with elongated brass nails that looked sharp and lethal.
“A Tinker’s vocation is dangerous,” The Bone Man whispered beside me. “Like the bomb makers of old, a Tinker loses his fingers to–”
“Acids. Chemicals. Rust,” Turk finished.
“And poisons,” Traveler added.
“Ewe,” whispered Jin, rubbing her perfectly painted nails. “Gross.”
He was wearing a buckled duster that started at his chin and reached his ankles. Made of the thinnest hammer
ed tin I had ever seen, the garment was beautiful and shimmered under the lights. His boots were covered with brass. He made no attempt to hide the steel blades, usually hidden in the toes. No, his were exposed, out in the open, for the world to see.
The goggles he wore were elaborate. Sophisticated. Tiny lenses moved in and out as he scoured the crowd. I could tell his hair, long and unkempt, was red, what The Gov called, a Ginger. A highly sought after trait, it was hard for anyone to hide in this world with hair that color. I knew without seeing behind the goggles his eyes would be green. I wondered if they could be as green as Pilots. A bat automaton hung upside down from one of the coat buckles. I shivered. I had seen that bat before. So Cane was behind our attack today. I wondered if the Bishop even knew.
“Wow,” said Jin. “The Tin Man. I wonder if he has a heart.”
I thought about the attack on The Dark Destiny. “I don’t think so,” I whispered.
“You’re going the wrong direction, Mr. Cane,” the Bishop said. “I have a show to watch. You’re being rude.”
Jacoby smiled, revealing straight white teeth. I could see a sprinkle of freckles much like the ones I used to have, across his nose. They lent a boyish, almost innocent quality to him. A trusting quality even. But I knew it would be a mistake to think that.
“I beg your pardon, Bishop. I only wished to present you with my newest weapon, an animated Troll.”
“Impressive as always, Mr. Cane. But your timing is off.” Bishop West once again motioned to the stage.
Jacoby Cane turned and gave a half-bow toward the stage. “Dr. Dark. My apologies.”
Dark tipped his hat and shifted his hand to Dagger’s collar. The dog lunged forward, growling. Canines flashed. The troll noticed and took a thundering step toward the stage, licking its lips. One snap on the leash and the monster stopped.
“Oh, no you don’t,” said Jin. “No doggie snacks.” She raised a paint can.
Turk reached out and grabbed a fistful of Jin’s tooled skirt before she could run out onto the stage. She fell backward on her butt. “Doc has this,” he said. “Take a seat, kid.”
Jin glared at him but stayed where she was. She watched the action, looking through The Bone Man’s legs.
“Bishop, a few questions for our Dr. Dark if I may?” Before Bishop West could answer, Jacoby went on. “Last night, off-map, a building came down.”
“I heard,” said Dark.”
“And?”
“And nothing. We do not travel off-map. And I assure you,” he tugged at the arms of his coat, “I have nothing up my sleeve that can bring a building down.” He produced a bundle of fake red roses and threw them into the audience.
The crowd laughed. Jacoby Cane did not.
“I did not think you did old man,” Cane said, clearly irritated. “I’m looking for a certain someone, a girl around eighteen, who needs to come home. Someone who, how should I put it? Causes a bit of Chaos wherever she goes.”
The Bishop nodded in agreement. “Indeed, she does. It’s for the public protection you know. We had an agent looking for her. He seems to have disappeared–”
“Which I can assure you, has nothing to do with us,” Dark said.
I froze.
“Shit, Skye,” Jin whispered.
Traveler swore behind her.
The Bone Man put his arm around me and held me close. “Don’t worry,” he said. “He’s fishing.”
Turk reached out and gave my shoulder a squeeze. It was the first time he had touched me, offered me a semblance of compassion since Maddie died. “Like I said. Doc has this.”
My stomach clenched. I felt like I had taken another blow to the gut. This was my worst fear. I’d put the Academy, the people I loved the most in this entire rotting world, in danger. All because of Emma, and my irrational quest to find her. As if on cue the walls and stone and bricks all around me started to whisper her name.
Emma. Emma. Emma.
The slipstream of magic was even more powerful this time.
I now knew this was Jacoby Cane. He was a dark geomancer who once again was manipulating the elements around me. I knew it wasn’t real. Emma was not here. Emma was never here. And yet, as the magic wrapped around me, and clawed its way into my heart, I wanted to run onto the stage. Wanted to scream her name, fall to my knees, crumple, and cry. My heart burst with longing and loneliness and pain. My knees buckled.
Traveler reached to pull me from The Bone Man’s protective arm. When he resisted, I heard a simple please escape Traveler’s lips. The Bone Man hesitated. He let go.
Traveler put his arm around me, walked a few feet away. We had a semblance of privacy. He held me up by the shoulders, making sure I found my legs again.
“It’s not real,” he said. “None of it is real. It’s a geomancer’s cheap trick and a cruel one at that. He has no idea who you are, where you are. It’s as The Bone Man said, he is fishing with magic. And you are too strong to take the bait.”
I stared into Traveler’s furious, amber eyes. “You can hear?”
“Yes, Lovely. I can hear. We’re connected, our blood runs together now. I hear.”
The Bone Man walked up behind Traveler. He firmly pulled me away from him. “Hear what?”
Neither one of us had time to answer.
Cane’s next question had us all holding our collective breath. “Do you know, Dr. Dark? About a Ley line that leads to nothing but a bunch of rotting Mica corpses?”
Dark smiled. “Young man. I don’t know about Leys or lines. Why at my age I can’t remember when I last got lucky. And without my cane, I hardly walk in a straight line, let alone find a magical one.”
The crowd roared and started to chant.
Showtime, Showtime, Showtime.
Impatient hands clapped and hundreds of feet began to stomp. Shouts exploded once more.
Hating the noise, the Troll yanked hard on the leash. The chain raced through Jacoby’s palms like an anchor line. Even though his hands bled, The Tinker didn’t move, just braced his feet and tugged hard and sharp on the leash that was attached to a large steel ring pierced through the creature’s nose. The Troll’s nose began to bleed and it roared out in rage. More dust fell from the ceiling. A thick strut above cracked, the wood splitting like an opening zipper.
“Out, Cane,” The Bishop roared. “And take that creature with you.”
Jacoby Cane glared at Dr. Dark. He turned and elegantly bowed. “As you wish, Your Honor, of course.” He pushed his goggles up into his thick, matted hair. I could read the hate written in his clear intelligent eyes. The Bishop West either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
But I did.
Jacoby Cane had no fear of the Bishops. Or The Gov. And this fact alone made him a very dangerous man.
15
The show must go on.” Dr. Dark finished his final bow.
The house gas lamps dimmed. The brass gong sounded. A flash of blinding light lit the stage. Blue smoke filled the room. In a single breath, it cleared.
Dr. Elijah Dark was gone.
The crowd, impatient and rude, went crazy. My group of The Ignored broke into the absinthe bar. The bastards tossed out bottle after bottle into the audience. The sweet smell of opium filtered once more through the crowded room. The Gov’s agents fought their way through the packed theater trying to reach the mechanical Ushers to turn them back on. Outnumbered, they were blocked, punched and tripped, at every step.
No one noticed the huge shadow looming at the ruined entrance doors. The Troll was back.
Chaos was everywhere, and for once I didn’t start it. On stage, in the audience, on the beams above us, the show was on all right. It just wasn’t the one we had planned for.
I heard The Dark Destiny above us roar to life. A cam gaslight hit the ladder that still swayed beneath the airship. Kong scampered across the stage and climbed halfway up. He turned and screeched. He held up one of those cool Chinese paintbrushes in his hand. One of the expensive ones with the carved Jade hand
le. Now, why didn’t that surprise me? Someone threw a bottle at him and missed. The monkey flipped him off. I didn’t even want to know how he learned that one.
“That’s your cue, Jin.” The Bone Man reached down and gave her a hand up. “Ready for your ride in the sky, Kiddo?”
“I’m glad to see Kong. At least I’ll have more than stuck-up Pilot for company.” She was trying hard to be brave, to infuse that Jin attitude of hers into her words. It wasn’t working.
“I’ll go first,” Traveler said. “Jin, you follow. I’ll give them what they want, distract, disorient. You just get on that airship. Quickly. Safely.”
“But I was hoping to perform-”
“Not tonight,” Traveler said.
Jin didn’t argue. I wouldn’t have either. The scary in Traveler Hale was full-on.
“What do you mean, what they want?” I said.
“Blood.” He nodded to Turk. “A little help?”
Turk leashed his cat. “Let’s go.”
“When I’m up,” Traveler said, “You’ll join me.” It was not a question.
“That’s the plan,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” Dark announced from above. The crowd looked up, only to be amazed that such an old man could now be in the rafters. He stood on a wide beam, his cane held high in the air. Dagger was with him. That amazed the crowd even more. I quirked a smile. There was a ramp. Dark had just hidden it. “Smoke and mirrors,” he’d told us again and again. “Smoke and mirrors work.”
“Watch closely, my good friends” he shouted. “Remember. There is more to see . . .All the lights snuffed out.
I heard Dark slap a cam gaslight. Traveler, now front and center on stage, was bathed in golden light. He knelt on a thick brocade black cushion with silver long tassels on each corner. His arms were outstretched, his head hung, his chin resting on his chest. His eyes were closed.
Turk circled him with his Lion. Glitter from Turk’s long dreads winked in the gold light. The lion shook his massive head and glitter flew, dancing in the spotlight. A thin sheen of sweat beaded over Turk’s dark skin. This was bad. Turk did not sweat on stage. Ever. The lion paused, roaring into the audience. A glass shelf in the absinthe bar rattled, bottles clanked against each other. Bringing the cat to heel, Turk lifted two large metal hooks above his head, the wicked razor-sharp points gleamed in the spotlight.