by Jayne Castle
“The good news is that no one followed us up from down below,” Elias said. “There aren’t any other prints.”
Virgil chortled to get their attention.
They followed him down a flight of cracked concrete steps that clearly dated back two hundred years to the Colonial era. At the foot of the steps they crossed a basement to a jagged hole in the stone wall. Familiar green energy illuminated the opening.
“Tunnel entrance,” Elias said. “This must be where we exited the catacombs. Check your amber.”
It was standard procedure before entering the disorienting maze of the ancient catacombs. The amber was for navigational purposes. There was no need for flashlights. The Aliens had vanished a few thousand years earlier but their network of underground, psi-infused tunnels still glowed endlessly with the energy of the green quartz that had been used to construct them.
No one knew what had caused the ragged holes in the almost indestructible green quartz. The stuff was certainly impervious to human machines. The theory from the scientific community was that the openings had, at least in some cases, been made by the Aliens themselves. Others suspected that the occasional rips and tears in the quartz walls had been created by major seismic and geothermal forces.
Hannah touched her earrings and rezzed her talent a little. She felt the familiar resonance and nodded.
“I’m good,” she said.
“Same here,” Elias said. “At least we didn’t burn out our amber last night.”
They followed Virgil through the hole in the wall and were immediately enveloped in the senses-disturbing currents of paranormal radiation. Turn a single corner or go through an arched entranceway into another section of the catacombs and you were immediately lost unless you had navigational amber.
“There was no need to block this entrance with psi-fire,” Hannah said. “It didn’t lead directly to the Midnight Carnival. It’s just another hole in the wall. There are thousands of them in the Underworld. Once you enter the catacombs you’re in a maze. If you don’t know the coordinates of your destination, you’ll never find it.”
“Unless you have a dust bunny,” Elias said.
Virgil was already several yards ahead. Hannah and Elias went after him.
He wove a complicated path through a series of hallways and chambers before finally turning one last corner and disappearing.
Elias and Hannah rounded the corner and stopped short at the waterfall of seething nightmares that blocked the tunnel.
“Oh, yeah,” Elias marveled softly. “I remember this part.”
Hannah knew a flicker of relief. “So do I.”
They were several feet away from the torrent of pounding energy, but even from a distance, Hannah could feel the rush of raw power that roiled her senses.
“A dreamlight gate,” she said. “I’ve run into smaller ones from time to time. My talent has a way of drawing me to them when I’m in the Underworld. But the gates that seal the entrances to the carnival are special. They’re psi-coded. Only someone with a certain para-profile can de-rez them.”
Elias gave her a knowing look. “That would be you.”
“Yep.”
The nightmare energy crashed and churned. The currents that sealed the tunnel were composed of heavy waves of paranormal radiation that emanated from the darkest end of the spectrum. It was the energy of dreams that had haunted humankind since primordial times, the energy of nerve-shattering nightmares.
Hannah smiled. “What a rush.”
Elias looked at her. “Speak for yourself.”
“Right. I know dreamlight isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”
“It’s like looking into a mini universe of nightmares.”
“Is the gate you want me to open at the Ghost City jobsite as powerful as this one?”
“Yes.”
“Then you came to the right dreamlight talent,” she said. The buzz of energy off the gate was making her feel cocky. She looked around. “Where’s Virgil?”
At the sound of his name he appeared out of the hot dreamlight, or, rather, half of him did. His fur stood on end. He chortled encouragingly and disappeared back into the nightmares.
“Obviously, dust bunnies don’t have a problem with human dreamlight,” Elias said.
“Nope. Are you ready?”
“Sure. Not like I’ve got anything better to do. Might as well sample a few nightmares.”
She reached for his hand. “Physical contact helps. Stick with me and enjoy the ride.”
“Just like last night.”
She was oddly pleased when he did not hesitate. He grasped her hand, his fingers tightening firmly, confidently, around hers.
“Here we go,” she said.
She rezzed her talent. Together they walked closer to the cascade of nightmares. Elias’s grip on her hand tightened abruptly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the stone in his ring suddenly blaze with paranormal light and energy.
The dreamlight stirred her hair, lifting it into a cloud around her face. The dark energy called to her senses, sending wave after wave of intoxicating thrills through her. She wanted to laugh and scream with delight.
She glanced at Elias and knew from the heat in his eyes that he sensed some of her own exhilaration.
She focused intently, searching for the psi-lock frequencies. When she identified them she went to work, deftly de-rezzing the currents until they flatlined.
The gate winked out of existence.
Hannah walked through the opening and swept out a hand. “Welcome back to my inheritance, the Arcane Society’s legendary Lost Museum, otherwise known as the Midnight Carnival.”
Chapter 6
The Midnight Carnival looked as if it had been trapped in time and preserved in another dimension. The rides, booths, and concession stands—all garishly illuminated in lights that generated colors from across the spectrum—were spread out around a vast green-quartz chamber. Here and there were entrances to halls and tunnels that held still more attractions.
Although the carnival was lit up, thanks to the paranormal crystals used to decorate the attractions, nothing moved. There was a great stillness, a dreamlike quality about the scene.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Hannah said. “It’s as if the crowds and the behind-the-scenes workers just walked out a few minutes ago and left the lights on. None of the paint has faded and there’s no dust anywhere.”
“Thanks to the paranormal forces down here,” Elias said.
Hannah walked to a nearby concession stand illustrated with a picture of a giant slice of pizza.
“There’s no garbage or rotting food, either,” she noted.
“That would be thanks to the paranormal forces here, as well,” Elias reminded her. “The tunnels are self-cleaning, remember. Food and other organic garbage would have disappeared over time.” He whistled softly. “This is an incredible find. No wonder you rushed to file your claim on this sector. It’s going to be worth a fortune to the Arcane Society.”
“I know. But I want to do a full inventory first to figure out exactly what I’m selling so I can come up with the right asking price. That’s why I’ve held off notifying the Society.”
“Do you know who built this place?” Elias mused.
“I’m still researching the history of the Lost Museum. But I did find out that it was created by a First Gen colonist who was a member of the Arcane Society. His name was Aloysius Jones. He was in charge of the artifacts that the Society brought through the Curtain. Essentially, he was the director of Arcane’s first museum here on Harmony. But when the Curtain closed and life got hard for the colonists, he was afraid the artifacts would be lost, stolen, or destroyed.”
“According to the history books, life was tough for the colonists after the Curtain closed. Most of their Old World technology failed within months and there were no rep
lacement parts coming from Earth. The First Generation was focused on survival while they figured out how to use rez amber in place of the Old World technology.”
“Exactly,” Hannah said. “So they didn’t have time for civilized luxuries like museums. Aloysius Jones had every reason to believe that not only would the Arcane treasures be lost, but the Society’s history as well. He built the Midnight Carnival to preserve both. And then he asked a powerful dreamlight talent to lock the entrances with a gate that could only be opened by someone with a similar para-psych profile.”
Elias smiled. “And that turned out to be you.”
“I’m sure there are others who could unlock the gates.”
“But not many.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay, why a carnival?” Elias asked. “Why didn’t Aloysius Jones just hide the artifacts down here and lock the entrances?”
“I think it was because he had no way of knowing how much of the historical records would be lost in the chaos of those first few decades. He was a student of history himself, of course. It was his passion. He knew that the best way to preserve the historical record is to embed it in a story. That’s also the easiest way to make sure it gets passed down to the next generation. Each of these objects and attractions embodies a piece of Arcane history.”
“History books and archives get lost but legends and myths have a way of hanging around. Makes sense. Aloysius Jones created a legend for the Society.”
“I think that was the whole point of this place. He did an amazing job of it, too.”
“It looks like a working carnival, right down to the pizza and hot dog stands,” Elias said. “Was it ever open to the public?”
“No. Jones wrote in his diary that he never intended to create a working carnival because some of the relics in here are actually quite dangerous. But he wanted his museum to look and feel like an actual carnival. The various attractions are designed to portray the historical significance of the artifacts to future generations who might have forgotten the Society’s history. The man had a passion for his creation. He wanted it perfect in every detail.”
“It was genius,” Elias said. “If nothing else the design of the attractions would force future scholars to at least ask the right questions about the significance of each artifact.”
“Like our midnight marriage. It forced us to start asking the right questions this morning.” Hannah paused. “It was probably the carnival that gave you the inspiration for that idea.”
Elias shot her an unreadable look. “Uh-huh.”
She was not sure how to take that. She realized she had been hoping for a different answer. Be careful what you wish for, she reminded herself.
He walked to a carousel that featured several elegantly painted figures and objects. The statues were dressed in ancient, Old Earth costumes. One wore a sparkling crown. The animals were all Old World, as well. Some had proudly arched necks, flaring manes, and hooved feet. Hannah could not remember the name of the creatures but she was certain she had seen pictures of them in history books. Some of the sculptures were in the shape of wheeled vehicles pulled by the prancing animals.
Elias stepped up onto the platform.
“What are you doing?” Hannah asked uneasily.
“There was no time to look around last night. I just want to check something.”
He disappeared into what looked like a control booth. Hannah followed and stopped beside the carousel.
Virgil appeared from behind a concession stand and chortled excitedly. He dashed to the carousel and hopped up onto the platform. He scurried through the various figures, and finally chose his ride. He vaulted up onto the driver’s seat of one of the carriages. The vehicle was harnessed to a pair of the hooved creatures and looked like something out of an Old World fairy tale. The cab was enameled in white and trimmed with gilt. The windows looked like they were made of dark mirrors.
Something about the mirrors worried Hannah.
“Be careful,” she said.
She wasn’t sure if she was speaking to Virgil or Elias. Both, she decided.
“This is crystal-based tech,” Elias said from inside the control booth. “I think I can rez it.”
“Probably not a good idea,” Hannah said.
Elias ignored her. A few seconds later, music sounded through hidden speakers. The carousel began to rotate.
Virgil bounced up and down on the driver’s seat of his carriage, chortling madly.
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Hannah said. “This is so dumb.”
But this time she was speaking to herself. Neither of the males was paying any attention to her.
The carousel went faster. The glass eyes of the sculptures started to heat with an energy that Hannah knew intuitively came from the dark end of the spectrum. The queenlike figure turned its head, eyes darkly flashing. Hannah got the feeling the clockwork mechanism was searching for a target.
Virgil whirled past, clinging to the carriage seat. He was high on dust-bunny adrenaline.
The queen shot by again, this time her glass eyes locked on Hannah for a couple of beats. A chilling energy turned Hannah’s insides cold for an instant before the motion of the carousel carried the figure out of range.
“Elias, that’s enough,” Hannah said. “Stop that thing. It’s dangerous.”
“Hang on.” He spoke from inside the control booth. “Give me a minute to figure out how to shut it down.”
“You got it going,” Hannah said. “Please tell me you can stop it.”
“No problem. Just need a little time to get a handle on the tech.”
The carousel was spinning faster now. Virgil was whizzing around on his fairy-tale coach at what seemed a dangerous rate of speed. Not that he appeared the least bit alarmed, Hannah thought.
The music got more intense. It was carrying paranormal vibes now, the kind that made Hannah’s senses stir, and not in a good way.
“Elias,” she called, raising her voice to be heard above the strange music. “You need to stop this machine.”
“Working on it,” he called back. “It’s a little tricky.”
“No kidding,” Hannah muttered.
In hindsight, it had probably been a mistake to bring an engineer and a dust bunny to the carnival, she concluded.
Virgil flew past again. Hannah could see that he was clinging to the vehicle seat with all six paws now. His fur was plastered back by the wind the moving platform created. The eyes of the hooved creatures sparked with green fire and something weird was happening to the windows in the fairy-tale carriage. They shimmered with quicksilver light.
Alarmed, Hannah tried to grab Virgil off the driver’s seat the next time he went past but she missed.
He chortled and sailed off out of reach on his pretty carriage.
“Elias!” Hannah shouted.
“Found it.”
The carousel finally began to slow. The music receded. The glass eyes of the figures and the windows of the carriages dimmed. Hannah’s senses calmed.
The platform came to a halt. Hannah scooped a deliriously excited Virgil off the carriage. Elias emerged from the booth. He looked as thrilled as Virgil.
“You should see the control system on this thing,” Elias said. He stepped off the platform. “Amazing crystal technology. Incredible to think it’s First Generation. That means it’s two hundred years old. The engineer who built the carousel was a tech wizard. Way ahead of his time.”
“Thank goodness you were able to stop it,” Hannah said. “I was afraid Virgil was going to get flung off by centrifugal force. And I’m sure there was something weird going on with the glass eyes of the figures and the windows in those little carriages. From now on, don’t touch anything, understand?”
“Okay, okay.”
But she could see the hot curiosity in his eyes. He was
studying the other attractions the way a gambler studied a deck of cards.
“You used talent to activate the controls on that carousel, didn’t you?” she said.
“Yep, it’s what I do. Got a talent for working crystals. What can I tell you? It’s in the blood. With a little practice I’m sure I can control the speed on that thing and the weapons on the platform.”
“Weapons? They look more like clockwork toys and miniatures.”
“Trust me, they’re weapons,” Elias said. “Be sure to note that fact in your inventory.”
“I’ll do that. Meanwhile, try to remember that we’re not here so that you can run a lot of dangerous experiments. We’re looking for a fortune-teller, remember?”
“Right.” Elias looked around. “It was over there by the House of Mirrors.”
They started through the maze of attractions and concession stands. Elias glanced at the sign over a tunnel that branched off the main room.
“WELCOME TO SCARGILL COVE, TOWN OF MYSTERY,” he read. He glanced at Hannah. “What’s the significance of that attraction?”
“Don’t you know any of your Arcane history?”
“I’m a Coppersmith, remember? I’m also an engineer. History is not my best subject.”
“Scargill Cove was a little town in the Old World. It was where the headquarters of Jones and Jones was located during the twenty-first century, Old World Date, I think.”
“Okay, I do know about Jones and Jones. So, was Aloysius Jones the only one who knew the location of this carnival?”
“No. The dreamlight talent who locked the gates knew it, of course. And a handful of people at the very top of the Society were aware of it. But over time the records got lost.”
Elias glanced back rather longingly at the carousel. “Any idea of the history behind that merry-go-round?”
“I think the figures on that carousel are re-creations of Mrs. Bridewell’s curiosities. She made clockwork toys back in the nineteenth century on Earth. She had a rare psychic talent for working glass. You will notice that all of the figures and sculptures are fitted with some weird dark glass.”