Go for the Juggler

by Leanne Leeds

  “I think you look very handsome in them,” I told him. He smiled and grabbed the pillows and an extra blanket from my closet to sleep in the sitting area.

  But I didn’t want him to.

  “I…”

  “Yes, Charlotte?” Gunther asked as he turned.

  “Um… nevermind,” I told him as I waved off the invitation I would extend. The frustration I felt was immense, but I couldn’t risk it. Not that I thought anything improper could or would happen. Even just sleeping next to me was like sleeping next to a metal robot. I could have a nightmare and crack his skull open.

  “No, what?” he asked as he continued to make the bed.

  “It’s nothing. I just thought since, like, we couldn’t really do anything anyway it wouldn’t really be improper or anything if you slept in the bed,” I told Gunther as I stared at the blue comforter.

  Silence.

  “It’s just, I know the couch is uncomfortable, and the bed is so huge, and it just seems silly, but then I remembered that I have, like, armor and I could really hurt you and… Well, I’m kind of a violent sleeper, and so I decided—”

  While I had been prattling on like a complete moron, Gunther had come up behind me. His hands lightly resting on my shoulders brought my nervous babbling to an instant halt. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it made me shiver.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered. “If we didn’t live in a circus, sleeping in the same bed would be a major decision. It would be a decision we undertook after talking about the ramifications, talking about what we wanted out of our relationship, where it was going. I would like nothing more than to fall asleep with you in my arms. But you're tired, and you’ve only just told me that you love me.”

  “I do love you,” I whispered staring down at the empty bed.

  “I believe you, and I love you, too. More than you know,” he said with a charming little laugh. “And because I love you, I’m going to sleep on the couch. Not because I want to, mind you. Because I think it’s the right thing to do.”

  Now I felt like a hussy. Because after his little speech I really, really wanted to sleep in the bed with him. Like, so much.

  But I knew he was right.

  We had experienced a lot of emotion, and a lot of bonding. We hadn’t done a lot of talking about our relationship and where it was going. A step like this… it didn’t seem like a big step for some people, I’m sure. For the two of us?

  I knew it was. It mattered. It might even be the only intimate bonding we would ever be able to have. And I loved Gunther for taking it so seriously.

  “Oh, Charlotte,” he laughed as he turned me around and hugged me affectionately. “I do love you. I can practically hear your brain sputtering in all different directions. Here, let me tuck you in. That I think we can do.”

  He pulled back the comforter and gently placed his hand behind my elbow to guide me into bed. I laid my head back on the pillow, and he pulled my covers around me. Brushing my hair from my face, Gunther leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

  “I love you, Ringmaster,” he said as he smiled. “We’ll figure it all out. I promise.”

  I sighed as he shut off the light.

  Tomorrow would no doubt bring more confusion, more prophecies, maybe another death bat or two. For tonight, though, I felt loved and cared for and like everything would be okay. With Aidan joining the circus, that feeling had only grown.

  Enjoy that while it lasts, Samson said from the corner.

  I did.

  Thank you!

  Thanks so much for reading Go for the Juggler!

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  Go grab Irrelephant Omens, the next book in the Magical Midway series right now or keep reading! I’ve included Chapter 1!

  Leanne Leeds

  leanneleeds.com

  Read Chapter 1 of Irrelephant Omens

  “Now, look here, young man!” Ethel Elkins screeched as she sat at one end of a large wooden table. Devana sat beside her as always, a concerned look on her face and a comforting hand on the old lady’s shoulder. “This isn’t some negotiation to be had! This is a straight-up brawl, and Charlotte needs to—”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, it is our job to share the information we have access to with Charlotte and her group,” Aidan told her from the opposite end of the table. “The decision is not ours to make. We are not generals of an army.”

  “Don’t you tell me what I am!” Ethel Elkins shouted as her fleshy fist pounded the wooden table. Aidan remained as relaxed and unconcerned as Ethel was furious and frustrated.

  We had gathered around the huge table to discuss a strategy for dealing with the Witches' Council. Gunther and I, Fiona and Ningul, Aidan and Kyle, Ethel Elkins and Devana. Fortuna Delphi, the only member of our party not paired up, sat alone in the corner watching the argument between Ms. Elkins and Aidan with her eyes as wide as saucers.

  Nine paranormals sat around a table on a Saturday night trying to pick a way forward.

  “I don’t think, Ms. Elkins, that shouting at Aidan is going to accomplish anything,” Gunther told the old woman.

  “She doesn’t care if it’s going to accomplish anything,” Cama, a mysterious bat that joined us when we visited my parents in Mickwac, Texas, tittered with what sounded like a laugh. “That old woman has been screaming for at least a millennium. I doubt she even knows how to talk anymore at a regular level.”

  This shouting match is unlikely to be productive, Samson thought as he sat in my lap. With the Witches' Council meeting next week you are running out of time.

  The only one at the table the shouting was Ethel Elkins and so far from what I had seen? No one could calm her down.

  A year ago I was an introverted, quiet homebody. Now I was the unelected general in some paranormal tug-of-war over the fate of the world.

  Despite growing up a witch and knowing that my family owned one of the few paranormal circuses that traveled the United States, those two facts never played that large of a role in my life. I knew my parents were witches, we had specific abilities that were somewhat entertaining, but beyond that, I didn’t really think about it much. The family animal shelter and the rescue of abused and abandoned pets played a more significant role in my life than the Magical Midway.

  When my Uncle Phil died and passed the circus to me? I realized that maybe I should have paid more attention to all of this paranormal stuff.

  “It must be Charlotte’s choice, that’s all I’m saying,” Aidan said to the assembled group. “When she inherited the power of the Magical Midway, she inherited the choice.”

  “I’m not the only ringmaster in the paranormal world, Aidan,” I pointed out. “If this inherited choice is a ringmaster power, we really should have Roland Makepeace here to discuss the situation. What if I get all this information, make a decision, and then he chooses something different?”

  “He doesn’t matter,” Ethel Elkins snapped as she waved her hand as if swatting a fly.

  “I think my father might argue that, ma’am,” Gunther told the old woman. Gunther, my boyfriend, was the heir apparent of the only other paranormal circus left on the entire planet. Currently, though, his father held the ringmaster position— as well as the superpowers that made Roland Makepeace and I the two most powerful witches on earth.

  “I don’t care what your father wants to argue, he still doesn’t matter,” Ms. Elkins told him.

  “I keep telling you that you keep saying that people don’t matter, and everyone matters, lady,” Cama clicked and squeaked. “You are very stubborn norn. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn as the day is long, long, long.”

  “Only the 13th witch m
atters, only those of the proper generation matter, and only those destined to make a choice and aid in the choice matter,” Devana stated quietly. “That is Ms. Elkins’ perspective. It is difficult for her to consider those that don’t have a role to play in the future. She doesn’t intend to say that they don’t matter as people, Cama. Just that they are not consequential in what is to come.”

  “I don’t even see how that’s possible,” I told the terrifying huntress witch. “The meeting with the Witches' Council is next week, and Roland Makepeace is the other ringmaster this week.”

  “Things change,” Ms. Elkins snapped. Devana placed a hand on her shoulder again.

  “Not that much, it seems,” I told her, and she rolled her eyes.

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I told Gunther as we hid in my studio off the main great room in what used to be my yurt. Now it was like sleep-away camp for squabbling supernatural beings.

  “At least your uncle is able to take care of the Magical Midway issues while we focus on this,” Gunther told me as he sat down on the futon. “Just think of how worn out you would feel if you had to manage all the operational stuff for the Magical Midway as well as this group of plotting paranormals.”

  “I wonder if Uncle Phil and I can trade jobs for a couple of days?”

  “I don’t think it works that way, unfortunately,” Gunther smiled.

  “I’m starting to think nobody knows how it works,” I told my boyfriend as I plopped down on the futon next to him. “This is the most disorganized, argumentative group of people I have ever had to deal with. They think I’m predestined to make some major decision, but they don’t know what it is. Ms. Elkins thinks I should just do what she tells me, and Aidan’s contribution to the discussion is for me to not do what Mrs. Elkins tells me.”

  “That actually does sum it up quite well,” Gunther smiled again.

  “With all of this fighting over a decision they won’t tell me about, though, I don’t feel like I’m getting any useful information.”

  “Remember, they’re not infallible, but they probably like to think they are,” Gunther pointed out as he tapped his hand on my shoulder and motioned for me to turn around. As my boyfriend rubbed the knots out of my neck, he continued. “My guess is they’re not telling you about the decision you’re going to be presented with because they don’t know what that decision is.”

  “A fat lot of good they’re doing me, then,” I mumbled into the hair that had fallen across my face. Gunther’s ministrations slowly melted the tension from my neck and shoulders. My head flopped forward and bounced on my chest.

  “Feeling any better?”

  “My neck and shoulders? Absolutely. About our ragtag coven? Not so much.”

  “Can you read anything from them beyond what they’re saying?”

  “From Aidan, absolutely,” I told Gunther as I turned to face him. “Aidan feels the same as he always did. He just is who he is with a lot more knowledge than we used to have, you know? Ms. Elkins, on the other hand, I just can’t figure out.”

  “I wish my mother were here,” Gunther sighed. “My dad always had her deal with Ms. Elkins because… actually, I have no idea why she was always the one dealing with her. But mom always handled anything about Ms. Elkins concerns or problems. My mother would know what to do.”

  Gunther winced. It was a subtle, tiny flicker of tension that I had come to recognize. Each time Gunther brought up his mother, a momentary flash of grief seemed to cut through him like a knife. He took the flash like a body blow, and then the moment passed. Even though she had been killed twenty years before, Gunther still felt it.

  Months ago, I had learned that the Witches' Council had murdered Gerda Makepeace. It was a secret I had kept from Gunther, one fact in a stack of facts about the Witches' Council that helped me figure out what I would do. When I discovered that fact, I wasn’t entirely sure I could trust Gunther, and so I said nothing.

  Once we became closer, I justified keeping the secret by admitting I had no proof it was true. It was just an allegation. With no evidence and without her murder directly affecting what we were doing there didn’t seem to be any point in saying anything. I would accomplish nothing by telling Gunther—other than hurting him and opening old wounds.

  “Maybe we should talk to your dad? Maybe he has some insight he remembers from back then? Because if we don’t figure out a way to bring her combat level down to a two from a ten we are never going to get anything accomplished. We’re just going to continue to be the audience that witnesses a daily throwdown between the past and the future.”

  “My dad’s been doing really well lately,” Gunther said as he shifted uncomfortably on the futon. “Bringing up my mom? That has a tendency to make him not do very well.”

  “What do you mean ‘not well’?”

  “You met him when you first became ringmaster,” he told me. I nodded. “The more pain he’s in, the meaner he gets. I’m not trying to say he’s a bad person or anything, but… He’s been a powerful ringmaster for a long time, Charlotte. Powerful people that have had tragedies in their life? Tragedies that deeply wounded them? They can become ruthless. He has a tendency to be ruthless. Right now he’s not. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “I get it. I take it he’s not drinking anymore, either?”

  “No, not at all,” Gunther smiled proudly. “I think you turning me into a full witch and ensuring that he can pass on the ringmaster power to me? That was a big deal for him. It helped him resolve a lot of his anger.”

  “Well, he and I both turned you into a full witch,” I disagreed. “I could not have done it on my own. Both of us had to join forces, or we never could have done it.”

  You know, you both know all this stuff, Samson, my sarcastic familiar, pointed out. You have a week before the Witches' Council meeting. I would suggest the two of you stop meandering down memory lane and going over things that are done and start concentrating on the things you must do.

  I passed on Samson’s observation, and Gunther nodded.

  “I wish Samson weren’t so defensive about telepathic communication with anyone besides me,” I told Gunther as I scratched the black cat behind his ears. “I mean, I get why he is, but it sure would make it easier since you’re here all the time if the two of you could talk to each other since you have telepathic power.”

  Gunther’s face dropped as he looked down in his lab. My eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he said slowly as his eyes rose and met mine. “There’s something about my telepathic power that I don’t think you quite picked up on.”

  “Oh? what’s that?”

  Gunther stared at me and said nothing for the longest time. I could feel emotional concerns churning within him. He was worried about my reaction. I tried to pluck what he was trying to tell me out of his head, but he hit it beneath the chaotic fear of his intense emotions.

  “I don’t have telepathic power,” he said with a sigh. “I only have telepathic power with you.”

  Fortuna concentrated so hard that her hands shook. Exhaling loudly, her limbs relaxed. Opening her eyes, she looked at me and shook her head no.

  “Powers don’t work like this!” I exclaimed in frustration. “You either have the power, or you don’t have a power! You can’t have a power with just one person. That’s ridiculous! He must just be more comfortable with me, and so that’s why it’s stronger with me! Is he blocking it?”

  You and I have powers only with each other, Samson pointed out.

  But you’re a guardian! You’re some unique supernatural being!

  So are you, Ringmaster. So is he as a ringmaster heir and lawgiver.

  “I am so tired of these groundbreaking new things happening with no explanation,” I said out loud.

  Perhaps you chose the wrong line of work, then, Samson said.

  “I didn’t choose this line of work, cat! I got teleported by your glowing butt to a clearing where I was
told my ancestors along with my uncle chose me to run the Magical Midway! I was chosen, not the other way around.”

  If I recall, you agreed. That is a choice.

  “Charlotte, maybe we should ask Aidan if this has happened in the past. Perhaps there’s a reason for it,” Fortuna pointed out. “Could lawgivers have the ability to telepathically speak only to one another?”

  “I don’t think his power works like that,” I disagreed. “Besides, Aidan’s been around Gunther since they met back in Mickwac. He hasn’t said anything at all about Gunther’s power being weird. Maybe he just needs to try harder.”

  “It’s possible that it’s not weird,” Fortuna said.

  “How is this not weird?”

  “I am going to ask Aidan if he would be willing to join us,” Fortuna said as she shot Gunther, who sat silently on the futon, a supportive look. With a quick smile at me, she ran out the door.

  “How could you not tell me this beforehand?” I whirled on Gunther.

  “It took me quite a bit of time to realize that your thoughts were the only thoughts I heard,” Gunther told me a bit defensively. “I wasn’t trying to keep something from you, Charlotte. I was just—”

  “Enjoying the fact that more magic indicated we were bonded in some special way?”

  Gunther winced like I’d slapped him. Sure, maybe what I said was a little bit unfair, but it’s not like Gunther hadn’t acted like some lovesick puppy dog before.

  You can be very unfair when you are feeling defensive, Samson told me.

  Be quiet. This doesn’t concern you.

  “That’s not fair,” Gunther replied as he stood up. “You’re assigning motivations to me because you are uncomfortable with the fact that someone believes we are destined to be together. Don’t question my motivations or honesty with you simply because you have trouble being comfortable with the prophecy.”