Shadow Prophecy (The Magic Carnival Book 6)

by Trudi Jaye

  She leaned down and grabbed her water bottle from under the table. Her hand trembled as she held the bottle to her lips. The two visions she’d had while touching Sam had taken it out of her; she still felt queasy and shaky.

  But it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do her part.

  The tent flap was pulled aside, and Celestine looked up, keeping her face unsmiling. She always aimed for mysterious and all-knowing, and that didn’t involve being too friendly.

  The figure who appeared was familiar. “Sam,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  For a moment he looked wild, his eyes reflecting the red glow from the lamp beside her. Emotions skittered across his face, and she thought she could see fear, anger, frustration, and uncertainty, before it was gone, and he was hidden behind his usual mask. “I just saw Rilla, and she wanted me to check on you. Make sure you’re up for doing a show.”

  It looked like Rilla had talked to him about something else as well, given his reactions, but she just nodded and gestured for him to come further into the tent. “I feel fine.”

  “Then why is your hand shaking?”

  “Just a little residual side effect. It’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t need to go through with the show today. Rilla is happy for you to sit it out.”

  Celestine shook her head. “You don’t understand. I need the show as much as I want to do it.” It was a delicate balance—too much and she’d end up crazy like her mother, overwhelmed by the multiple futures she was seeing all around her; too little and she’d feel like she was about to explode with the sheer pressure of the futures trapped inside her.

  Sam frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I get... I don’t know, feedback, I suppose you’d call it, if I don’t use my talent. If I go too long without using it, I get worse than this.” She held up her hand; it was still shaking from her earlier reading.

  “That’s not normal, Celestine.” Sam took several steps into the tent, his eyes on her hand. “I think I need to get a scan done on you. The next stop has a hospital. I’m going to call ahead and book an MRI.” He lifted his gaze to her face.

  Celestine put her water bottle down abruptly, frowning. “No, Sam. I’m not unwell.” She stood, and walked around the table. “This is just part of my gift, I promise. I feel perfectly fine.” Holding out her hands, she tried to give the impression of being in top health. It was difficult when she was tired and sore and shaky.

  Sam narrowed his eyes at her. “You need to take care of yourself, Celestine. Seizures can be serious.”

  “Stay and watch to make sure if you want.” She gestured behind her. “There’s another room back there with a viewing hole through to this room.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Who usually uses that?”

  Celestine shrugged one shoulder. “It’s an old tent. It used to be my mother’s. Family members would watch and protect her while she worked.” Images of her father and then her well-muscled brothers standing behind that viewing hole filled her with a familiar shaky panic. They’d watched her mother like a hawk, monitoring her every movement, pushing her even when she was too tired, forcing her to keep going. They’d bullied her every moment of her life, and she’d had no choice but to do what they said. It was no wonder her mother had been the way she was.

  “To protect her?”

  “So they said.” Celestine shrugged, taking a breath to calm her jittery anxiety.

  “And you don’t need the same protection?”

  “I never have, no. My mother didn’t need it either.” Celestine bit her lip, aware she was telling Sam far too much about herself.

  “I’ll hide behind here and monitor you. If I see you getting tired, I’m going to come out and cancel your show,” he warned.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Just as Sam closed the curtain, someone pulled aside the front opening of the tent. This time it was two pretty teenaged girls, both wearing brightly colored shorts and T-shirts, giggling and egging each other on.

  Celestine sighed. It was a common sight. “Welcome to my sanctuary. Please, sit.” Her voice low and commanding, she gestured to the chairs on the other side of her table.

  The girls sat, nervously glancing at each other. “We want to know if Bernie is going to ask Julia on a date,” said the girl with curly brown hair and cute freckles, giggling at her friend.

  A wave of intense emotion rolled over Celestine, and at first she didn’t know where it was coming from. She clenched her hands together in her lap. It was stronger than anything she’d ever felt when doing readings. She’d always experienced a kind of low-level hum of emotion emanating from customers that helped her to expand and create a reading. But this was strong and specific. The girl—Julia—didn’t like Bernie, but she was pretending for the sake of her friend. The friend had a big crush on Bernie, but she wasn’t as pretty as Julia, and she didn’t think she stood a chance with the football captain.

  This was way more than she usually had to work with. Something was happening to her powers. Was it because she’d fallen on her head up the mountain? She wasn’t touching the girls, or even particularly close.

  A shiver of fear ran along her spine—what if she could feel this level of emotion from people when she was just walking next to them from now on? Would she have this kind of emotional feedback coming at her all day long? She’d end up a worse recluse than her mother had ever been.

  One of the girls cleared her throat. Celestine blinked and remembered what they were doing here.

  “Bernie—” Celestine waved one hand over the crystal ball and, sensing movement, the internal light came on. “—I see a tall boy, strong and true.” He was a football player, what else would he be?

  “Yes, yes, that’s him.” The friend nodded enthusiastically.

  Celestine waved her hands over the ball, widening her eyes as if she’d just seen something on her side. “I don’t see him with Julia.” The girl, Julia, glanced at Celestine in surprise. Her long, dark hair fell softly around her pretty face. Her wide, blue eyes were framed by long, black lashes.

  Celestine glanced at the friend. “I see him with you,” she said.

  The friend gasped and glanced at Julia. “That’s not true. I would never....”

  “Julia does not want him,” said Celestine. “She wants another boy.”

  Julia gaped at Celestine. “How...?”

  “Always follow your heart,” whispered Celestine. “Don’t go where the crowds push you.”

  “Does he—” The girl swallowed. “—does Bernie feel the same for me?” she asked.

  Celestine narrowed her eyes and looked down at the crystal ball. She had no idea. “Follow your instincts. They will not lead you astray,” she said, vaguely waving her hand over the crystal ball. The glowing light from inside the ball intensified briefly, and Celestine held her face in the way that gave off the creepiest shadows over her face. Then the light disappeared.

  “The spirits have gone. I can read your cards if you would like?”

  Julia shook her head, her eyes wide as she dragged her friend out of the tent, only glancing back over her shoulder as they passed through the opening.

  Her next visitor was an older woman on her own. “I left my son and my husband on the thrill rides. I can’t bear them,” she said in a confiding voice to Celestine.

  “What would you like to know? What can the spirits advise you on?”

  “My daughter. She... disappeared five months ago.” The woman’s face lost its joviality. “Is she still alive?”

  Celestine took a breath and closed her eyes. She reached out across the table but stopped just before she touched the woman’s arm with her gloved hand. That was all she needed to see anger and frustration, raised voices. “You fought with her?” she said. She pulled her hand away.

  The woman nodded and a tear leaked out from her eye. “I was trying to make her see reason, and I just pushed her away.”

  “What was it that she wanted to d
o?”

  “She wanted to go across country to college. I didn’t want her to go.” The woman wiped the tears off her cheeks with one hand. “I’d let her go anywhere she liked, if only I knew she was okay.”

  Celestine took a breath and placed her gloved hand on the woman’s arm. She needed a little more contact for this one. She closed her eyes. Flashes of light and impressions of people talking came into her head. A young woman wearing a flowing dress and a sad smile. “She’s alive. She’s living where she always wanted to live. It’s hard on her, she misses you, misses her family. But she’s determined to succeed.”

  Pulling her hand away, Celestine took a deep breath. It took a little bit out of her. She tried to limit that kind of a reading—only when there was a genuine need.

  “Where she always wanted to live?” The woman closed her eyes. “I know exactly where she is. Thank you, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me until you find her.”

  The woman stood and smiled shakily. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  Celestine just smiled her mysterious smile and let the woman walk out. She’d never see her again, but it would be okay, because the woman would find her daughter and they’d be fine.

  A couple holding hands, maybe in their thirties, walked through the tent flaps next. The man seemed reluctant; he probably didn’t believe in the “fortune-telling malarkey,” but the woman came straight up to the table. “We want to know if we’re ever going to have a baby,” she said, looking down at Celestine. Her gray-green eyes reminded Celestine of the sea.

  “Please, sit.” She waved them to the chairs.

  Again she felt much more than usual from the couple. There were conflicting emotions coming off both of them. The woman was sad, and scared, but excited as well. The man was reserved. So reserved in fact that it seemed like he didn’t actually want a baby.

  “How long have you been together?” she asked.

  “Why don’t you tell us?” interrupted the man. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

  Celestine narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you’ve been together long. Maybe less than a year.”

  “What gave it away? Some kind of body language clue?” said the man.

  Celestine shrugged. “You don’t seem comfortable enough with each other to have been together much longer than that.” She hesitated. “You’re trying for a baby?”

  The woman glanced at the man. “Yes. We both want children.”

  He smiled across at her, but on the inside, her boyfriend was radiating a very definite desire to not have children. His every cell radiated negative thoughts toward what was being discussed. For some reason he was pretending to his girlfriend. Celestine narrowed her eyes and looked at them both carefully.

  The woman was wearing a rather lovely dress, with small flower patterns, a sweetheart neckline, and a belt at the waist. Her hair was pulled up and off her face into a French twist and her makeup was flawless, enhancing her natural beauty.

  The man was classically handsome, but he was… less flawless. His edges were frayed. Except he was managing to hide it well. The unshaven cheeks said rugged rather than untidy, and the holes in his jeans could have been designer rather than just well used. He had less money to spend on his appearance, but he hid it well behind a mask of studied unconcern.

  Celestine was almost certain he was a gold digger.

  She debated silently with herself for a moment over how she was going to handle the situation. She never told couples outright that they weren’t right for each other, although she’d certainly seen many in that situation in her tent. But the vibes that she was getting off this guy were so ruthlessly focused on getting what he wanted that she was afraid for the woman.

  “I see you having children, yes, at some point in the future,” she said, speaking directly to the woman, hoping she would catch the subtle hint that she shouldn’t have kids with this current jerk. There was a definite vibe of younger children surrounding the woman.

  “You will live a long and happy life surrounded by a loving family.” Celestine tried to emphasise the fact that it would be a long life. Perhaps this man wasn’t as deadly as she feared. But if he were, perhaps he would be put off by the idea that she’d outlive him. With many children.

  “That shows how much you know,” sneered the man. “Marie’s been told she’s infertile by a specialist.”

  Celestine glanced at the woman, who now radiated desperation. “I’m sorry. Marie, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You will have children. They may be adopted or perhaps a blended family. But I definitely see children in your future.”

  Tears appeared in the woman’s eyes, and she reached out and grasped Celestine’s arm before she could stop her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Celestine simply nodded as a crashing wave of hope washed over her, clearly coming from the woman. It was more emotion than she could easily deal with, and she carefully pulled her arm back from under the woman’s hand.

  “Come, Marie. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.” The man pulled Marie to her feet and put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t let some fraud at the local fair give you false hope.”

  Marie glanced back, just like the young girl Julia, as she was leaving the tent. There was a knowing in her eyes that Celestine hadn’t seen there before.

  She let out a breath.

  Chapter 13

  From where he stood in the anteroom, Sam watched the couple walk out again. He’d caught Celestine’s hint to the woman that she ought to ditch this guy and wondered what she’d seen in the woman’s face. He was uncomfortable with the idea that she was giving people relationship advice, telling them to leave their partners, but she’d done it in such a way that if it hadn’t already been in the mind of the woman, she probably wouldn’t see it. The man’s face had darkened, so perhaps he would show his true colors soon. Sam frowned. He hoped the woman would be all right.

  The next visitor was a tall gangling boy, holding a plate of food and a drink container. Joey, Frankie’s runner.

  “Here you go, Celestine. Your favorite.” He held the plate and cup ceremoniously in front of her, and Celestine smiled warmly in response.

  “Thank you, Joey. You’re awesome.” She took the food and drink and put them on the table.

  Craning his neck, Sam saw a thick juicy hamburger on a whole wheat bun and bursting with lettuce and tomato, plus a bright pink slushy in a cup. He pushed the tent flap aside and came out. “Hey, Joey,” he said.

  Joey looked up and grinned. “Sam. If I’d known you were here, I’d’ve brought more food.”

  Sam shook his head. “I can leave at any time to grab something for myself. It’s Celestine who needs the energy.”

  “Joey, what did you do to this slushy to make it taste so good?” asked Celestine around the straw that was in her mouth.

  Joey shrugged. “Nothing to do with me. Tami saw a watermelon farm on our way here and stopped to get some. It’s early in the season, but she still managed to buy a few.”

  Celestine closed her eyes and sucked on the straw. “It’s delicious.”

  “I’ll let Tami know you said that.” Joey saluted casually at them. “I gotta run, have to do the food rounds for the rest of the sideshow. I’ll see you later.” He raced out of the tent without looking back.

  “Do you get that kind of service every day?” asked Sam.

  “Only when there’s a show on. We can’t take breaks, not really, so Tami makes sure that everyone has something in their belly to keep going into the night.”

  Sam glanced at his watch. It was dinnertime, exactly. “Everyone takes care of each other around here. It’s nothing like The Experiment. It was sink or swim around there.”

  “And you managed to swim?”

  Sam shook his head. “Not at first. It took a few years for me to learn how to survive.”

  “How did you do that?”

  He paused, thinkin
g back to his early years in The Experiment. “She didn’t show what she was like at first. I didn’t realize for a long time the kind of place she was creating. I guess I was naive. Idealistic. I believed Veronica’s babble about creating a better world, a utopia for circus people.”

  “When did you find out?”

  Sam paused. “The first time I watched her torture someone for disagreeing with her,” he said quietly. He remembered every moment of it, the terrified screams of her victim, the smile on Veronica’s face. And the words she’d said at the end. “You are forbidden to help her, Sam. If she survives, it will be on her own.”

  He’d tried to break the block that night, had fought with everything he had, and it hadn’t been enough.

  “She’s a terrible person,” whispered Celestine.

  Sam nodded. “She is. That’s why I have to destroy her. It haunts me, the idea of her doing what she did to me to someone else.”

  Celestine opened her mouth to say something else, but the tent opening rustled, and she shooed him back toward his hiding place. She put the empty plate of food down under the table alongside her half-finished slushy.

  A woman came in followed closely by a young girl of maybe nine or ten. “Hi there. We’re here to get our fortunes told,” said the woman with forced cheer. The girl clung to her side.

  Sam gazed at the pair through the special hole in the velvet tent, and wondered what Celestine saw. They were both well dressed; the young girl had long, blonde hair held back by a ribbon, and the woman had an attractive bob cut. There was tension etched on the woman’s face, but the girl seemed a little blank.

  “Please, take a seat,” said Celestine. She was back in her Madame Fortune persona, her voice low and intense.

  The woman sat down with the young girl on her knee.

  “What would you like to know?” asked Celestine.