Shadow Prophecy (The Magic Carnival Book 6)

by Trudi Jaye

  “What’re you going to do?” asked Frankie, eyeing the food stalls they were passing. Delicious-smelling snacks were being prepared for the Carnival’s imminent opening.

  Jack gestured for Sam to explain.

  “Jack needs to find time every day when he can just let his absorbing powers loose, to gather the magic to him, then set it free again. It would be good practice for when he actually needs it.”

  Jack smacked Sam on the arm with the back of his hand. “I’m willing to give it a go, if everyone else agrees.” His face held a mix of trepidation and intrigue.

  Frankie nodded and sniffed the air. “I smell churros. The good kind, the ones that Tami makes.” He broke off to wander over to the van that was advertising authentic churros in big red letters. Instead of going to the front window, he went around the side. He could soon be seen inside the van talking and smiling at Tami, the red-haired leader of the food crews.

  “He’s so happy to be out of that trailer. How does he cope stuck in there all the time?” said Sam.

  Jack hesitated. “Sometimes he doesn’t. Rilla says it’s better now I’m here and can take him outside. We all try to support him, to make him feel part of the community.”

  “I’m guessing having the cameras has helped him,” said Sam drily.

  Jack let out a snort of unexpected laughter. “Well, it hasn’t hurt.” He glanced up to where they both knew a camera was hiding. “I wish it wasn’t necessary. But we need to keep an eye on the Carnival, try to avoid the kind of sabotage we had before you came. We can’t let another person like Hugo take advantage of us.”

  “Veronica was always in the background of Hugo’s attempts. Did you know that?”

  Jack nodded. “We’ve since realized they were connected. Veronica is a very smart woman. Hence the cameras.” He paused. “I don’t want anyone else to know about them, okay? Frankie knows to keep quiet, and I’m sure you do too,” he said in his Ringmaster voice.

  Sam nodded. “Of course.” He thought about Celestine. Technically he hadn’t told her, she’d just known about them.

  Frankie walked back to them. Whatever he’d said had charmed the older woman—he had two large churros, one in each hand. “The best ever,” he said, closing his eyes for emphasis. Sugar dusted the side of his mouth.

  Jack looked at his watch. “I have to meet Viktor quickly about a new ride. You’ll be fine here for a few minutes?”

  Frankie nodded. “As long as you don’t go too far away, I’ll be fine.”

  “It’ll be a good test of my ability to pin point my absorbing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Frankie waved him away, and Jack strode off toward the thrill rides.

  “Did you tell him about Celestine?” asked Sam.

  Frankie shook his head. “For some reason, I’m reluctant to do it. That’s usually my intuition at work, and I like to trust that.” He shrugged. “I’m the Chancemaster after all.”

  “Do you think she’s involved in something bad?”

  Frankie shook his head. “But we need to keep watching her. She’s up to something strange.”

  “Alfie is worried about her too,” replied Sam. “He told Jack we need to keep watch on her.”

  “I’ll keep watching the video surveillance, see if she does any more midnight walks. And I’ll ask one of the kids to watch her during the day, see if we can discover anything useful.”

  Sam nodded absently. “It can’t hurt to keep an eye on her. Just to make sure.” Why did he feel like this was familiar? He looked at Frankie’s sugar-coated mouth. Hadn’t Celestine said something...?

  Frankie finished the churro and wiped his face with one hand. He pulled out a deck of cards and started flicking them in his hands, the cards blurring they were going so fast. “The chances are good that she’s hiding something. We can’t take any risks, not right now.”

  “She’ll never know we’ve been watching her, will she?”

  “No. Joey and the other boys are good at what they do. And how is she going to know about the cameras around the Carnival? No one else does. Jack was pretty clear on that point.”

  “But she does know,” blurted Sam. “She told me about them after she had a seizure.” Sam felt a strange tingling along his skin. Celestine had described this scene to him. Frankie eating a churro with sugar on his face. Watching her with cameras.

  His skin felt clammy, like he was sweating all over, but he was cold to the bone. “She knew. She saw this in her vision,” he whispered. “She really can see the future.”

  Chapter 21

  Celestine felt like she was trapped inside the small tent. The velvet walls seemed to press in on her, and she wiped the small round table for the third time. Her hands were shaking as she worked.

  What was she going to do about Sam? How was she going to keep him safe from Veronica? Not to mention herself. She’d seen her own death wrapped up in his future now. She still remembered the look in Veronica’s eyes as she fired the gun. There had been glee as well as an unholy sense of satisfaction.

  The woman had enjoyed every second.

  Artemis curled around her legs, and she dropped into the chair with a sigh. The massive cat immediately jumped onto her lap and bumped her head into Celestine’s chin. She smoothed her hand along the cat’s back. A rumbling purr erupted from Artemis’s throat, and Celestine laughed. “You always make me feel better, don’t you Artemis?”

  She rubbed herself along the side of Celestine’s hand and curled into a lying position on her knees.

  “You’re too big, Artemis. You’re almost falling off.” Celestine held Artemis around her sides, keeping her in place.

  “Hello?” The voice was hesitant. “Anyone here?” A slight figure pushed her way through the tent flap and into the small space.

  “Uh… Hi, Missy.” Celestine only knew the star trapeze performer fractionally; their paths didn’t cross much.

  Missy rubbed her palms on the sides of her jeans and gazed around, wide-eyed. “I’ve never been inside a fortune-teller’s tent before. You’d think I’d know more about it, given I’ve lived here my whole life.”

  Celestine smiled, liking Missy’s candid style. “It’s just the same as the other sideshow tents, except for the mood lighting.” She gestured to the small lamp to one side.

  Missy laughed. “I guess it is.”

  “Come, sit down.” Celestine gestured to the chair. “Tell me what brings you to this part of the show.”

  Missy hesitantly moved forward and perched on the edge of the wooden chair on the other side of Celestine’s table. She noticed Artemis for the first time. “I wondered what that noise was. Sounds like a small motor.”

  “He’s a big softie.”

  “I can see.” Missy paused. “I should be checking on everyone in the sideshows more regularly, I guess. I am the Showmaster.”

  Celestine nodded. “Christoph used to come by and say hi every few days.”

  Missy blinked at the reference to her father. “I guess I don’t know as much as I think I do about what he did.”

  “He’s a good man. He just made some bad decisions,” said Celestine softly.

  “Yeah, maybe.” Missy shifted awkwardly in her chair. “Jack told me you’ve been having seizures.”

  Celestine’s heart stopped in her chest. Sam had promised her he’d talk to her first before he said anything more to Jack. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  “I need to make sure you’re up to your job. What would happen if you had a seizure while you were with a punter?”

  Celestine shook her head. “That would never happen. It only happens when I’ve touched someone on their bare skin.”

  Missy stared at Celestine, her hazel eyes shadowed. “Look, I know you’re not a real fortune-teller. That’s okay, you draw in the crowds, and you’re good at what you do. But it means your seizures are a problem. You can’t control them, and I doubt they’ll stick to being only when someone activates your bare skin phobia.”

  The
words made Celestine breathe out slowly, as if through thickened air. She’d created this reputation. This was what she’d wanted, how she’d decided to survive in hiding. She’d needed everyone to believe she was a fraud, a fake.

  Her brothers could find her at any minute, and she didn’t need the growing reputation of a real fortune-teller drawing them in.

  But now it was coming back to bite her on the butt. Missy was going to tell her she had to go home. If she really was having random seizures, perhaps she’d agree and go quietly.

  But she wasn’t.

  A strange feeling of calm came over Celestine. This was it. “I’ll prove it to you.” She slowly removed her gloves, finger by finger, as Missy watched, a bland expression on her face. “Put your hands out on the table.”

  Missy did as she was told, and Celestine grasped Missy’s hands in hers.

  Time froze, Missy’s expression held still, and then the bright rainbow lights appeared around her. She’d left the real world behind.

  Celestine was in the big top, and Missy was practicing high above with the new trapeze artist, Alphonso. They wore matching black and silver outfits, and there were black silks dangling from the rigging high above. They slowly moved through a matching routine, showing off their skills and their strength. Celestine had watched these kinds of acts her whole life, but had never seen anyone as graceful and talented as Missy. Alphonso seemed just as good.

  The ribbon practice was beautiful and mesmerizing, but nothing happened, and eventually Celestine felt herself falling away from the vision. When she opened her eyes again, she was still holding tight to Missy’s hands across the table and could feel the remnants of her shaking.

  “Are you okay?” Missy leaned forward. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to let go, in case you tumbled off your chair.”

  “I’m fine. I...” Celestine fumbled for something to say. Nothing in the vision would convince Missy of her talents. She’d failed. “I didn’t see anything useful. Just you and Alphonso practicing for a new act.”

  Missy looked at Celestine with genuine pity in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Celestine. I know you want to stay. But these seizures are getting serious now.”

  “Just let me stay a bit longer. I need to be here.” If she left, Sam was going to continue on his collision course with Veronica. He was going to wind up dead, and he was going to take other people with him. She had to stop it.

  Missy was shaking her head.

  “What about if I don’t do my show, but help out in other ways? Maybe with Sam in the clinic?”

  Missy hesitated. “You can stay till the end of the week. But you’re taking up space and food here. We need you back at the Compound, getting proper medical treatment.”

  “Sam’s not proper?”

  She sighed. “Sam’s great, but he’s one man. And he doesn’t seem to see things clearly when it comes to you.”

  Celestine frowned at Missy. “What does that mean?”

  “He said to Jack that you should stay. But clearly,”—she gestured to Celestine—“it’s not okay. You’re still having seizures, and it’s not fortune-telling. I’m sorry.” Missy stood up decisively. “You can come back later in the season maybe, if you manage to stop the seizures.”

  Celestine stood. “Missy—”

  “I’m sorry, Celestine. My mind is made up.”

  Chapter 22

  The two men were as different from Celestine as it was possible to be. Tall and broad, with long noses and dark eyes, they stood out because they were head and shoulders over most of the other punters.

  But something about the way the shorter one stood—or perhaps it was the expression on his face—made Sam hesitate on his way to talk to Jack.

  The Carnival had just opened, the first flow of people were streaming into the area. Lighthearted music danced through the air, and the sweet smell of candied apples and churros assaulted his nostrils. The thrill rides would be starting up soon, and the sideshows were filling with hopeful punters. Most people were chatting excitedly or laughing as they headed toward their favorite section of the show.

  But these two guys weren’t looking around, at least not in excitement. It looked more like they were casing the joint.

  He followed them down the alleyway toward the contortionists and the tattooed lady. They barely looked at the tents and their splashy advertising. They looked like they had a specific destination in mind. Celestine’s tent was toward the back, out of the way of the main stream of people. He’d always thought it was a good idea, but now that he was following the two large men, he had changed his mind.

  Should he stop and get reinforcements? Everyone was busy, and he wasn’t entirely certain he was right. Maybe they weren’t Celestine’s brothers. He looked around and didn’t see anyone he could recruit. His eye caught a flash of sunlight on something metallic. One of the cameras. He waved at the camera and pointed to Celestine’s tent. He mouthed the word help as obviously as he could, waved and jumped a little more, then kept going. Hopefully that was enough to alert Frankie, who could then send in the cavalry.

  If not, he’d have to figure something out.

  The bigger of the two men saw the fortune-teller’s tent and stopped suddenly. He nudged the other man’s side, and pointed. They both nodded and slipped back behind another tent in a manner that could only be described as lurking.

  That was it. They were definitely after Celestine, whether they were her brothers or not. Sam ran down the alleyway, past the two men and Celestine’s tent, trying to pretend that he was on some kind of urgent mission that had nothing to do with whatever they were doing. Then he turned down the narrow strip between tents and came back around behind Celestine’s tent.

  He pulled aside the tent flaps. Celestine was standing by the front entrance, talking to Missy. It didn’t look like it was a happy conversation. “Celestine. You need to get out of here,” he whispered urgently, striding into the tent. “I think your brothers are outside.”

  Celestine turned at the sound of his voice. She stared uncomprehendingly at him for a moment, and then her face paled, and she took a step back from the entrance. “It’s not possible.” She shook her head.

  Sam’s heart lurched; she looked terrified. What exactly had her brothers done to her? “I don’t know for sure, but there are two men, and they’re definitely interested in you.” He moved to stand closer to her, wanting to protect her.

  Celestine stared wide-eyed up at him. “I would feel them if they were close…” Her voice stumbled to a halt. She paused, her expression going vacant for a moment. “Oh God, it’s them. I can sense them now.” She put one hand to her flushed cheek. “How did I not notice?” She glared over at Missy. “I was too busy trying to prove myself to you. I should have known better than to try.”

  Missy frowned. “What’s going on?”

  Ignoring Missy, Celestine looked frantically around. “I have to get out of here. They can’t find me. I can’t get close to them.”

  Missy glanced at Sam, then gently placed her hand on Celestine’s arm. “You need to tell me what’s happening,” she said, standing so that Celestine had to look her in the eyes.

  “My brothers will force me to go back with them. I can’t do it. I can’t.” Tears sparkled in Celestine’s eyes, and her movements were jerky and agitated.

  Sam stepped around Missy and put his arms around her shoulders. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll protect you from them.”

  “They can’t make you go anywhere with them; we won’t let them,” said Missy, nodding in agreement. “You’re part of our family now.”

  “You don’t understand...,” Celestine’s voice trailed off, glancing between Sam and Missy.

  “We need a distraction,” said Sam, moving back slightly. He untied Celestine’s scarf from her head. “Here Missy, put this on. If they come in, you can pretend to be Madame Fortune.” He hesitated, glanced at Missy’s clothes, then removed the shawl Celestine had wrapped around her shoulders. “Just ke
ep them here until I can get Celestine away.”

  Missy glanced down at her T-shirt and jeans. “I’m not sure I’ll be that convincing.”

  Celestine dragged down her long floaty skirt, revealing tight leggings underneath. “Here put this on as well.” She handed Missy the skirt, but kept her gloves and long sleeved shirt firmly in place.

  Sighing, Missy pulled up the skirt and walked over to the table. “When this is done, you’re going to tell me exactly what is going on,” she said in as stern a voice as Sam had ever heard her use.

  Sam nodded his head firmly. “Absolutely,” he said, although he wasn’t entirely certain he knew the full story either. He grabbed Celestine’s hand and pulled her behind him, out the back of the tent.

  “Why do they have such a hold over you?” he whispered as they crept along the back of her tent.

  Celestine shook her head and refused to speak until they were a few tents away. She crouched down low and dragged Sam down beside her. Her breath was coming in gasps, and she was trembling all over. “I have a foreseeing talent.” Her violet-blue eyes met his. “Whatever you may think about that, it’s true. My brothers have one very specific ability; a persuasion talent they can use on me. I have no choice but to do what they say.”

  Sam glanced back at the tent. “Is Missy going to be okay?”

  “It doesn’t work on anyone else. Just me.”

  “So they can force you to go back, just by insisting that you come with them?”

  Celestine nodded. She was huddled next to Sam, and he felt rather than saw the tremors shuddering through her body.

  “That’s terrifying.” He’d thought having Veronica’s block was bad enough, but at least Indigo had been able to remove it. This was permanent.

  She nodded again, wrapping her arms around her body. “I can’t tell you how terrifying. My father had the same power over my mother. He forced her to keep doing the shows, even when she was exhausted and it was hurting her, making her sick. He worked her into the ground until she was nothing more than a shell of a person. And then he made her do some more. She went crazy because she had too many futures flying around inside her head. He killed her.” Celestine’s words were coming low and fast, as if she’d released a dam and was unable to stop them coming out.