The Circus Infinitus - Victoria 7

by Ethan Somerville

  “I admit, we are always on the lookout for new talent. But why would you want to leave your family home?”

  “I have been trapped there since 1732.”

  He stared at me in surprise once more. I could tell this was a man who wasn’t used to being surprised. “Surely not!”

  “Aye, so old am I, sir. This necklace has caused me to age at only 1/7th my normal rate. I was sixteen when I inherited it, and now I’m only … dear Lord, I have no idea what year it is right now!”

  “It is April the 13th, 1888.”

  It was my turn to gape in surprise. “1888?” I had thought it was maybe 1820 at the most! Had I really lost so many years? “That would make me … thirty eight!”

  “May I take a closer look at your amulet?”

  “Yes, but I cannot remove it. Every time I try it reappears around my neck.” I lifted it from my invisible flesh. He removed his gloves to reveal lender hands with long, pointed fingernails. I wondered if they were fake, all part of his act to look mysterious and elf-like. He took the necklace and held it in his hands for a minute, seeming to be trying to get a feel for it rather than actually examining it visually. Then, he mustn’t have liked what he found because he shivered and quickly let it go. It felt like ice as it touched my skin once more and I received a very strange impression, almost of irritation, coming from it. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’m something of a psychic, and if I concentrate, I can usually get readings from things. But your amulet was actively resisting me. But I got the impression of great age … and great power.”

  “It belonged to my mother, Mr. Delfay. She received it back in medieval times. She died in 1732, and it passed on to me.”

  “I must get Professor Abbacus down here to take a look at it. He’s quite knowledgeable in arcane matters. He could explain more about it. But first, please tell me more about-“

  “Do you think this Professor of yours might be able to remove the necklace from me?” I gasped.

  The Ringmaster stared at me. “Perhaps. But he would need to study it first. Do you think you could tell me some more about your other forms?”

  I sipped my tea and took a deep breath. “Of course. And tonight, at midnight, you will get to meet the first.”

  Chapter Ten

  I described my various forms to the Ringmaster of the Circus Infinitus until well into the night. During this time the mysterious Professor Abbacus arrived to examine my amulet. Like me, he wore bandages wrapped around his face and a broad-brimmed hat pulled low. But what I had first thought was merely a monocle actually appeared to be a lens attached to his face. There was a strange red glow coming from behind it. He also had a cloud of steam surrounding his head, and he seemed to be very warm, much warmer than a normal human. “What’s so damn exciting that you had to disturb me from my work?” he grumbled at Mr. Delfay in a soft, raspy voice. “You know this place needs to be in full working order by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning, and there are still pipes leaking in the-“

  “Icarus,” the Ringmaster interrupted his tirade, “this is Lady Violet Hollingworth, from that haunted house the locals have been talking about, and she has a very interesting necklace I think you should take a look at.”

  Professor Abbacus grunted something that could either have been a greeting or an insult - I couldn’t tell. But he leaned in close and stared at my necklace intently, through one relatively normal blue eye and that god-awful red thing, whatever it was. “It appears to be a Magick artefact!” he exclaimed. “A very powerful one! I can see the signatures.” He reached out with two gloved hands to lift it from my neck – without my permission, mind you – but as soon as he lifted it past a certain level it vanished from his fingers and reappeared around my throat.

  “What the Deuce?”

  “You can’t remove it, sir. It’s attached to me. It is my curse.”

  Professor Abbacus straightened up and started fumbling through the pockets of his dirty leather overcoat for something. Eventually he produced something that looked like a small telescope with several different lens attachments. He opened the cover of his right eye to reveal a bloated, red-veined eyeball some three times the size of a normal eye. It wasn’t in a socket, but rather suspended in a complicated mechanism designed to move it around. I felt a little ill at the sight, but kept my composure. After all it was really no worse than the empty eye-sockets Busboy had shown me before. Then the Professor screwed in the telescopic monocle and adjusted its lenses.

  “God damn,” he said softly, after a minute or two of examining the gemstones. “Seven different Magick signatures, seven different aspects, each fully contained within the crystalline matrix of each gemstone, with all the properties and advantages of a particular supernatural being.”

  “Speak English, Icarus,” ordered Mr. Delfay.

  “A truly marvellous piece of thaumaturgical engineering. Where-ever did you get it?”

  “My mother left it to me.” I was starting to get annoyed with Abbacus’s attitude. While the Ringmaster treated me with the ultimate respect, the Professor seemed to view me as little more than an intriguing specimen. Perhaps he treated everyone like that.

  “It is a very interesting tale I might explain later,” the Ringmaster promised.

  “You may not need to explain. You will receive a demonstration very shortly. Is that clock correct?”

  “All clocks in here are correct,” retorted Abbacus as though I’d insulted him directly.

  I could feel the necklace growing warm against my skin. “What can you see it doing now, Professor?” I asked him. I struggled against the exhaustion threatening to overcome me. I wanted to be awake for this one, to see the looks on those two’s faces.

  Abbacus lifted a hand to his monocle. “I can see an increase in power across all the stones!”

  The clock began to strike midnight.

  I rose from my seat and pushed it back. I had no idea which form I’d become, and didn’t want to inadvertently wreck the place if I transformed into the large Spider Queen.

  “What was that you said about midnight?” asked the Ringmaster.

  My necklace blazed with heat, and I felt the change come over me. I felt myself grow, sprouting hair and fangs. My nose and mouth grew into the fanged snout of a wolf. All sorts of interesting smells immediately filled my nostrils; damp stone, steel, hot brass, coal smoke – and a faint, but unmistakable odour of death.

  “Sweet Eridos,” whispered the Ringmaster.

  “Well fuck me,” said the Professor.

  The Ringmaster stared up at me, since I now towered over him and the smaller Abbacus. “This must be the Wolf Woman!” he cried.

  I growled and touched my necklace with one paw. My stomach immediately growled; whenever I changed into this body, I was always hungry. Then I patted my belly, and pointed outside.

  “I think … I think she wants something to eat,” gasped the Ringmaster.

  “I’ll leave that up to you,” growled Abbacus as he detached his monocle. “As fascinating as this has been, I really must get back to fixing those pipes. I shall see you later.” He left.

  The Ringmaster escorted me out of his office and along the hall back to the main entrance to the Big Top building. But instead of showing me out so I could run off into the fields to hunt, he ushered me towards a large room under the seats on the other side of the doors. Despite the lateness of the hour it was full of carnies. Most were drinking and roaring drunk, especially the carnie Busboy. However a few of the performers were tucking into large plates of food. I noticed four dwarf clowns with a veritable feast of roast meats and vegetables laid out before them. They were tucking in with their fingers, gobbling everything up like starving creatures. But their meal smelled delicious, and my belly growled again, so loudly some of the partying drunks noticed. They sobered up pretty quickly at the sight of me as I lumbered into the room. Up the back was a small kitchen, where a female carnie in a mob cap laboured with brisk efficiency, cooking up more f
ood.

  “Ethel, this is the Wolf Woman,” the Ringmaster instructed the cook. “See she gets enough to eat.”

  “Right-o, Mr. Ringmaster sir!” Ethel saluted. “What would you like, eh … ma’am?” As the Ringmaster left, she looked up at me uncertainly. She had pasty skin and pox scars on her face and smelled a bit old and dusty, but she moved quickly about her little kitchen, far stronger and more agile than a normal person. She had obviously been doing this for quite a while.

  In response to her question, I growled and rubbed my belly. Then I pointed to what the clowns were eating. To my surprise, they had nearly cleaned their plates.

  “Roast, eh? Coming right up! I suppose a large, healthy … er, girl like you wants a big serve?”

  I gave another growl.

  “Alright then, find a seat and I’ll bring you something shortly.”

  True to her word, she returned with several large plates of roast beef, pork and chicken, surrounded by peas, mashed potatoes and covered with gravy. Like the clowns I ate with my fingers. My hands were more dexterous than a normal wolf’s paws, but I still managed to make a mess that I had to lick up later. When I finally finished cleaning my fingers, licking up all the spilled food from my fur and the floor around me, I discovered that everyone in the place was silent and staring at me, even those little clowns. I wished I could talk and explain to these carnies that I’d be staying for a while, but only a low, ominous rumble sounded.

  The cafeteria emptied out very quickly. I supposed they were worried I was still hungry, and liable to have one of them for dessert.

  I thought I’d use my enhanced wolf senses to explore the place, and dropped to all fours, padding from the room. I sniffed my way along the corridor back to the Ringmaster’s room, but it was deserted. I detected only that damp stone odour from before. Was that his scent? I wondered. It seemed an odd smell for a person, but it was all over this room, especially in his bed. I wondered if I could track him, perhaps find out where he’d gone. But as I tried to follow his trail from the room, I became confused by all those other weird, unfamiliar smells. I decided to leave the Big Top and explore outside, where odours were more familiar.

  Only a few carnies were still lurking about, generally drunks heading for various tents and caravans, and a couple who were watching over the place. At least, I thought they were a couple until I moved closer and realised they were conjoined twins, linked at the base of the spine and sharing only one pair of legs. This odd quadruped creature prowled the perimeter on all fours, its upper torso keeping watch. The lower twin wore a comedy mask while the upper twin sported a tragedy one. I hadn’t been introduced to these two, so I stayed out of their way. The upper twin was carrying a pair of wickedly sharp daggers, and I didn’t fancy getting cut by one.

  The odd smell of death I’d noticed before increased, and I wondered where it was coming from. It wasn’t the ripe, gassy stench of something dead that had been left out in the sun, but rather the faint, slightly unpleasant smell of something that had just expired. It seemed all over this camp and sent all the fur on the back of my neck standing up. But it wasn’t enough to send me back to my deserted old house. After I had finished nosing around all the structures, and the sun was rising, I crawled under one of the brightly coloured caravans and fell asleep.

  I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but I was eventually woken by voices, filtering down to my hiding place.

  “Roll up, roll up,” called a carnie in the desperate stage-whisper of someone trying and failing to be quiet. “Cone and see the ferocious Wolf Woman of Borneo, who last night decided to sleep in our humble camp! She’s fast asleep right now, so don’t make a sound, don’t wake her!”

  I opened my eyes to see a lot of legs and skirts surrounding the caravan I’d chosen. I could see the curious faces of children peering down into the shadows, trying to make me out. When they saw the big, furry heap that was me, their eyes widened. A couple backed off. I stayed quiet, eyes half-closed, still relaxed with sleep, and let them have their fun.

  But then someone poked me in the backside with a pointy stick.

  I charged out from under the van with a ferocious growl, and at least twenty youngsters of assorted ages scattered screaming. The carnie who’d tried to turn me into an attraction was sent flying.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he gasped as he scrambled up. “I didn’t realize that boy had a stick on him!” He lifted his hands to show he wasn’t the one who’d poked me. He had stringy, straw-coloured hair, a straggly moustache and several missing teeth. He also smelled old and dusty, and I realised that it was contributing to the odd odour of death that pervaded the place. Was everyone here dead ... or rather un-dead? “My name’s Ralph. Please don’t eat me.”

  He didn’t smell particularly appetizing and besides, I was still full from the big feed I’d had before. So to show him there were no hard feelings, I bowed my head and let him scratch between my ears.

  “I’ve got a lead in my caravan. How about you pretend you’re my captive, and let me parade you around the fairground a bit? You could scare more locals. It’d be great for business. How about it?”

  Since I wanted to join this bizarre travelling show and was prepared to do anything to escape from my tumbledown manor, I gave a growl of assent. I knew how strong I was, and figured I could either snap the lead like a string, or yank that skinny carnie right off his feet.

  While I waited, he darted into the caravan I’d been sleeping under and bumped about inside for a minute. Then he emerged with a big spiked collar and a long chain. He gave a sheepish grin. “Just don’t ask what I was using this before you showed up!” He closed the collar around my neck and took the other end of the chain.

  I must admit, it was fun prowling around the site, growling and snapping at locals while Ralph made a show of desperately trying to hold onto me. Once I did forget my own strength and yanked the leash right out of his hands. The farmer I’d been trying to frighten shrieked like a schoolgirl, wet his overalls, and took to his heels.

  Ralph roared with laughter and so did I – as well as I could laugh in this form.

  Ralph also showed me around the circus, proudly pointing out the Haunted Funhouse, the Maze of Mirrors, a wooden roller coaster and the carnival’s newest acquisition; a haunted carousel. Again I wondered how this outfit could possibly move around.

  As I sat down and watched the merry-go-round move, I noticed a ghostly, bloodstained figure waft out from the centre. It gave a dreadful howl, and the children on the ride screamed at the sight. At first I thought I was seeing an illusion, something produced by careful manipulation of mirrors. But then I sensed something cold and out of this world. All the hair on my neck and shoulders stood up.

  “Jesus!” blasphemed Ralph. “What’s the matter, Wolf Girl?”

  I raised all the fur around my neck and growled menacingly at the carousel.

  “What? Oh, that’s just Emma Mulberry! She may be a ghost, but she’s harmless! She likes to scare the riders. Look, see how those kids are laughing? They paid to be frightened!”

  He was right. The boys and girls – and some adults – were laughing. The ghost laughed too, suddenly no longer bloodstained or scary. I suppose I should have been calmed, but in this form my senses were at their most acute, and I didn’t like all the dead things I was detecting, beings – creatures – that should have been in the ground. Around that Haunted Funhouse and the Mirror Maze I picked up an odd odour of sulphur, and another icy shiver sent all my fur standing on end. I could detect a shift in reality, as though something was twisted sideways.

  My smart form could have explained it. In this body, I was simply wary, and wondered if I shouldn’t just go back to my nice, quiet and above all safe house.

  No. Mentally, I shook my head to clear it. I was just as bizarre – and in some forms just as dead - as the things around here.

  “Are you alright?” Ralph asked. He gave another gap-toothed smile. “I admit this place takes some getting used to
, but it’s home for freaks like us. You stay here, and I guarantee you’ll find a home too.

  I managed to communicate to Ralph that I wanted to return to the manor to fetch some belongings. In this form I was at my strongest, and able to carry the most. Ralph rustled up some of his carnie friends; a skinny fellow with a scruffy beard named Wilkie, pock-marked Ethel from the kitchen, an albino boy named Whitey and Busboy and Steamsaw.

  And so I led this odd group down the overgrown, barely visible road back to my house. They marvelled at the sight of the dark, crumbling building, draped with ivy and surrounded by weeds. I didn’t have much that I wanted to take, but Busboy and Steamsaw returned to the Circus Infinitus anyway to bring back a cart. I packed what was left of my clothes and books, and the carnies helped me pile everything into the conveyance.

  Then I went to up my mother’s bedroom and stood in front of the secret doorway to the upstairs laboratory. Because, in this particular form, I was so sensitive to outside influences and easily distracted, it had taken me a long time to master the entry code. But master it I eventually had, and I was able to open the door and head upstairs into the laboratory to collect the most precious of my belongings. A lot of the specimens I didn’t need, and had only kept as curios. I left them on their shelves and only packed my books, notes and scientific equipment. I also made sure all my chemical jars were sealed tight, and packed them too. Then I started carrying the boxes downstairs to my new friends who were waiting patiently.

  When everything was piled on the cart, I turned to take one last look at my old house. It may have been falling down, and become something of a prison, but I would miss it. Without me it would become even more overgrown and crumbling, a gradually deepening mystery future locals would never be able to explain.