by Jeff Gunzel
“He what?” Therian prodded, glaring at Xavier with narrowing eyes. “What did he do?” When she didn’t answer, he focused his attention directly on Xavier. “What did you do to her, boy?”
“Nothing,” he said innocently, raising his hands in the air. “I don’t know what happened. She just started screaming for no reason.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Therian asked, taking a step forward to place himself squarely between the two. When Xavier didn’t answer, he turned back to Lindsey, hoping she might shed some light on this mystery. But she just stood there, wiping tears from her eyes. She didn’t seem to want to look at either of them, but was clearly quite shaken. “Come on then,” he said, taking her by the arm. “We can talk more in the morning. Let’s just get you back to your room.”
After stepping past the broken door, Therian mumbled something and gestured down the hall. Sobbing softly, she nodded and rushed away. He watched her go, seemly waiting to make sure she was out of earshot before leaning his head back inside Xavier’s room. “You know something, kid,” he said, one foot balanced on the wobbling door. “You’re a fine entertainer. I’ll give you that. You pack the house every night, and yes, you make me a lot of money. But don’t think for second that makes you indispensable. Lindsey has been working here a lot longer than you have. She is like a daughter to me.” He raised a warning finger. “Hurt her in any way, and you’ll see just how dispensable you really are.”
“I would never...” Xavier pleaded, still not really sure what he was being accused of.
“Before, I might have believed that. Now, I’m not so certain.” With that, Therian slipped on down the hall to go catch up with Lindsey.
Everything was so quiet now. For a long while, Xavier just stared at the broken door. What had just happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting on his bed, talking with Lindsey. Yet, for some strange reason, he couldn’t even remember what they were talking about. Everything else was a blur. Why was she screaming? Did he do something to her and not remember? The thought made him sick to his stomach.
Certain he would get no answers tonight, Xavier extinguished the lanterns and crawled into bed. Light poured in from the hall, a door-shaped block of yellow projecting across his bed. But it was of little concern considering he didn’t expect to get much sleep tonight anyway. He rolled away from the light and faced the wall. What is happening to me? I think I’m losing my mind.
*
When the first hint of morning light began to peek through the tavern’s front-room window, Xavier was already sitting by himself at a table near the wall. Having given up on sleep hours ago, it made sense to just come down and get an early start to the day. Of course they were closed at this early hour, but it was nice to have the place to himself. The place looked so different when it was empty like this. The low lighting and total silence made the tavern feel like a church.
He wasn’t about to go wake up Therian and ask him to start cooking, so a bowl of cold leftover porridge would have to do. Dragging his spoon across the thick goop, he heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Perhaps Therian had gotten up after all? But no, that heavy-footed man would have made twice as much noise. Without turning to look, he knew it had to be Lindsey.
Hearing the footsteps pause at the base of the stairs, he knew she must have spotted him. He half expected her to head right back up, but a second later she appeared right next to him. Saying nothing, she slid into the chair opposite his. There was a long silence, neither making eye contact with the other. Growing uncomfortable with the awkward silence, he dropped his spoon into the bowl and folded his hands on his lap. Noticing the spoon stick straight up in the thick goop, he actually cracked a smile. Even Lindsey couldn’t help but grin.
“I could make you something...you know...less disgusting, if you like,” she said. “We could just give that slop to the horse out back.”
“No, no!” Xavier answered quickly. Lindsey raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I like that horse. No reason to be cruel to it.” She fell back against her seat with a hearty laugh. That was just the tension breaker they needed. “Lindsey?” he said, hoping to take advantage of the lighthearted moment. “I’m, er, I’m sorry about last night.”
“Are you now?” she said, searching his eyes for sincerity. “And what exactly are you sorry about?”
“I... You know.”
“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“Well I... I’m sorry that I— That is, that we— I mean, if I had been a little more—”
“You have no idea what you’re apologizing for, do you?” she said, folding her arms across her chest. She didn’t look mad, exactly, but she didn’t look pleased, either.
Xavier sighed. “My apology is real. I did...something...to you. I’m not sure what. Lindsey, I would never do anything to hurt you. You have to believe me.”
“I do believe you,” she assured him, touching the back of his hand. “Which is what makes all this even more astonishing. You really don’t remember anything, do you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on. There is something wrong with me. And until I figure out what it is, I think it might be best if you just kept your distance from me.”
She tightened her grip on his hand. “Xavier, last night, you…” She stopped to think a moment. How was she going to explain what she saw to him? His face, his eye, she was going to sound crazy. A part of her wasn’t sure she had seen it at all. One thing was certain: he seemed to be genuinely sorry, even if he couldn’t remember what had happened. “Last night, you weren’t yourself. That’s all. I just think you’re under a lot of stress.”
“But I—”
“You don’t need to say another word. You just sit right here and I’ll go scrounge up something from the backroom.” She jumped up and snatched the bowl under his nose. “And don’t worry, I promise you that no living creature will suffer this inedible glop. However, I suspect I might be able to fix your door with it. It’s worth a test.” She winked at him. “I’ll be right back.”
When she returned a short time later, she was carrying two warm plates filled with eggs and ham. She set one in front of Xavier and slid the other over to her spot. He couldn’t help but notice his plate was much fuller than the one she had for herself. “You didn’t have to—”
“Yes I did,” she cut him off, nibbling on the small piece of ham she set for herself. “Last night... I overreacted to something and I’m sorry.” She stopped him with a raised hand when he went to speak. “I,” she paused to make sure he was not planning to interrupt again, “let my imagination get the best of me. I thought I saw something, something completely impossible, and it frightened me. But I’m under a lot of stress too. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Lindsey,” Xavier said in a near whisper. “I don’t even remember what happened last night. Don’t you think that’s strange? There is something wrong with me. The last thing I want is for you to be in any sort of danger, especially if that danger is me. I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe you and I should just—”
“Nonsense,” she cut him off again. “If there is something wrong with you, then we will figure it out together. What you need right now is a friend, not further isolation. Now eat, before it gets cold.” Her tone sounded final, and Xavier knew there was point in trying to change her mind.
Giving up on the idea of pushing back, Xavier just dug into his plate and they ate in silence. But he understood what was really going on here. He knew she was downplaying everything because she was lonely and wouldn’t risk pushing him further away. Part of him still wanted to ask her what she thought she saw, what it was that he did. But he knew she would only lie. She would further downplay the events, possibly even going so far as to blame herself.
Whatever was going on inside his head, he would have to face it himself. He didn’t want to involve Lindsey any more than he had already. Maybe it was time to leave this little town. He coul
d just slip away in the night within the next day or two. Perhaps being alone was the only future left for him. That way he couldn’t hurt anyone.
Being alone wouldn’t be so bad. He didn’t care. With Viola gone from his life, nothing really mattered anymore.
*
“Wow! This is the biggest crowd yet,” Lindsey said, standing off to the side with the back door cracked open. Scanning the room with one eye, she saw all the townsfolk standing shoulder to shoulder. Every booth and table was jammed, and there was even a line leading out into the street. She didn’t know what to make of that bunch. If there was no room now, that was unlikely to change anytime soon. “I’ve never seen it like this. And they’re all here to see you!” She turned back and gave Xavier a poke in the belly. He flashed her a weak smile, then started patting himself down to be sure he had everything he needed.
“Hey,” she said, throwing her arms up over his shoulders. She kissed his cheek, then leaned back and gave him a squinty-eyed look. He grinned and rolled his eyes. “There, that’s better.” She screwed two knuckles into his ribs for good measure. Xavier laughed, shoving her hands aside, and stepped back. They heard Therian begin his drawn-out announcement. He seemed to like the stage more than Xavier did, taking advantage of these moments whenever he could. “Now get out there!” she said, twirling him around by the shoulders before giving him a playful shove.
Although not a hard shove, it caught him off guard. It was enough to send him stumbling through the door he forgot was already unlatched. Only halfway through his introduction, Therian turned when hearing the thunderous ovation. Stepping away with a shrug, he knew there was no point in continuing now. The star had already made his appearance.
Quickly regaining his composure, brushing off his shirt, Xavier moved behind the bar to take Therian’s place. Needing to bring a shushing finger to his lips several times over, he finally quieted the crowd.
In a motion so sudden that it barely registered, Xavier flicked his hands, sending ten silver daggers firing out into the crowd. Each tumbling blade stopped inches from a nose or eye, levitating in the air while still spinning in place. Patrons gasped and shrieked, ducking and pulling away long after the fact. Their reactions were so delayed that it appeared comical to those in the back. From their angle, they knew those poor souls should have died three times before even noticing the blades.
With a subtle twitch of his fingers, the daggers came tumbling back. Xavier snatched them out of the air, clutching each one between two fingers. But he didn’t hold them long. Flicking his wrists again, the daggers bloomed upward in a silver blossom of steel. After hanging in the air for far longer than gravity should have allowed, they drifted back down like leaves from a tree.
The assassin’s hands blurred through the air, snatching each one momentarily only to send it tumbling back up. A second later they were all in motion as Xavier’s trademark juggling routine took place. Ten daggers wheeled around up over his head, the flashing blades causing the crowd to cheer for more.
Reverting all ten over to one hand, Xavier was forced to slap at them rather than catch and throw, just to keep them aloft. Slowly, he reached down below the bar with his free hand while trying not to break his concentration. Then, like a coiled snake, he sprang back up and cast out his other fist. Small wooden rings scattered through the air. Smooth as silk, his hands flickered through the rainbow of spinning blades, sending them streaking off in a spray of flashing steel. Each blade hit its mark, zipping straight into one ring, pinning it to the ceiling. The blur of motion took no longer than two seconds, but not a single ring or dagger ever hit the floor.
The stunned crowd needed a moment to process what it had just seen. A woman in front threw her hands up and cheered. As if waking from a trance, the whole room followed with a boom of clapping and laughter. It seemed as if their local hero was pulling out all the stops tonight, stunning even those who had seen his act before.
Xavier pumped his hands, urging them to quiet down. But soon, he just gave up and let the cheers run their course. It was nice to be appreciated, but part of him just wanted to get this performance over with.
Having waited long enough, he dipped down below the bar and re-emerged with a wooden puppet. Those still cheering stopped and stared. A strange silence hung in the room, made stranger given how rowdy the place was only a moment ago. A puppet? What sort of strange follow-up act was this?
It wasn’t Brom, the puppet he had performed with so many times over the years, but it would have to do. Therian had given him the strangest look when he requested this particular prop. Still, he went ahead and followed through with the request. Surely this entertainer knew what he was doing.
With a bulbous nose, oversized eyes, and a large purple hat that was bigger than its head, the funny-looking puppet lay motionless up on the bar top. Xavier hovered over it, carefully clicking his rings all around the doll. “Hoyer?” Xavier called out. “Hoyer, I think it’s time you woke up. There are some folk here who would like to meet you.” The puppet began to stir, its shoulders rising and falling as if it were breathing.
The crowd jumped when it suddenly sat up and looked back over its shoulder. Its surprisingly detailed expression seemed to convey a certain level of intelligence. Of course that was impossible, but the illusion was still very impressive. Thick black eyebrows rose and fell while one eye closed, the other gazing around suspiciously. The reactions were mixed. Some folk seemed put off by the eerily realistic behavior while others seemed quite captivated by it.
“Hoyer, don’t you want to say hello to everyone?” Xavier asked. The puppet rose to its feet, then shook its head defiantly. “Oh, don’t be shy. Everyone came here just to see you.” To the amusement of those standing nearby, Hoyer placed its hands on its hips, scowling as it looked around. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Xavier said, ducking back beneath the bar.
The moment he did so, the puppet crumpled down in a heap, the illusion of life gone in an instant. “Ah, here we go,” Xavier said, popping back up with a tiny play sword. After placing it in Hoyer’s hand, he raised his own hands and the puppet sprang back to life. Now holding the play sword, the puppet looked around at those standing near the bar. It started shaking the tiny weapon at anyone brave enough to get too close. A few chuckles radiated throughout the group, some even shaking their fists at the puppet in mock acceptance of its challenge.
“Oh, wait,” Xavier said, allowing the puppet to crumple once more as he dropped down below the bar. “Now where is that...” There were a few mutterings for what was beginning to look like a botched performance. As an entertainer, he really should have had all his props ready to go. No matter, the knife-juggling act had already been worth the price of admission.
Suddenly, to the crowd’s delight (and horror), the puppet sat up on its own. It peeked over the side, looking down on the man who was supposed to be controlling it. “I’m sorry everyone, I just can’t seem to find it,” Xavier called out, his hollow-sounding voice proving he was indeed down beneath the bar. “Oh, this is just so embarrassing.” Hoyer spun about, its wooden eyelids blinking with a popping click.
Holding out its sword in menacing fashion, it pointed it right at a nearby patron who nearly spit out his drink. The puppet began to stalk towards him, each solid step clacking along the bar top. The man laughed, but also found himself backing away. What kind of witchcraft was this? The crowd cheered, some urging the man to go ahead and fight the puppet while others rooted for Hoyer to go on the attack. As far as picking sides, the tavern seemed to be split evenly.
A split second before Xavier popped back up from beneath the bar, Hoyer crumpled down into a lifeless pile of wood. “Ladies and gentlemen, I must apologize for the delay. I seem to be missing a few items and I just can’t finish the act without them.” Laughter filled the room. Most were just wondering how he managed to keep a straight face.
“It’s alive!” one lady called, pointing to the crumpled puppet. Hoyer opened one eye to glare at her, shakin
g its fist. It was all done at the perfect angle so Xavier could not see it. Again, the crowd roared with laughter.
“Lady,” Xavier said, his eyes bouncing back and forth between her and the puppet. “I think you may have had a bit too much to drink. Cut her off!” The laughter was coming nonstop. And once again, Xavier had managed to live up to his reputation. “I’m so sorry everyone. I’m afraid we’ll have to call it an evening. Next time I’ll be better prepared, I promise.” He waved. “Goodnight everyone!” When he scooped up the puppet and turned to leave, Hoyer opened one eye and waved at the crowd. The cheers only increased when it swiped its sword at the same man as they walked past. Of course, Xavier pretended not to notice.
“That was incredible!” Lindsey said, throwing her arms around Xavier when he came into the back room. They could still hear the crowd chanting for more.
Xavier shook his head at her as if answering the question she was about to ask. “No, I don’t do encores,” he said.
“Always leave them wanting more,” she finished for him. But he had to admit, it felt good to perform this evening. It helped him take his mind off everything, providing him a temporary distraction. If things kept going this well, he might just consider staying. Here, he had a purpose, if not the same purpose of his old life. Perhaps adding quality to people’s lives was better than taking life. He could get used to this.
Suddenly, they both turned at a scream coming from the other side of the door. The patrons were getting rowdy. Maybe he should have gone back out and performed for just a little longer, if only to settle them down. There came a second scream. It wasn’t coming from the tavern, but from out in the street. Xavier threw back the door in time to see the tavern emptying, everyone rushing out to see what was going on.
“Come on,” he said to Lindsey, taking her by the hand. “Someone might need our help.” He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he didn’t want to leave her alone.