by Trudi Jaye
“And you think your brothers would do the same?” Sam leaned in closer, lending her his warmth and trying to let her know he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
“I know they would. They already did, before I ran away. They see me as their meal ticket; that’s how our father taught them to think. Without me, they’re just the guys who put up the posters.”
“How did you get away from them?”
“Their persuasion talent only works when I’m nearby. I realized I had to put some distance between us and then just stay in hiding. So I was perfectly behaved, and they relaxed around me. One day in a town on the circuit, I managed to buy some sleeping tablets and crushed them up into their evening meal. When they fell asleep, I took everything I could and ran. I stole their truck and packed up all my mother’s things—I couldn’t bear to leave them with my brothers.” The violet in her eyes darkened with the memories.
A gust of wind swept up between them, blowing Celestine’s hair across her face. Sam leaned over and used a finger to brush it back. “I can help you, Celestine. I won’t let them get you,” he said softly.
“You won’t be able to stop it. If they see me, they’ll take me with them.” She turned her head, as if to hide her face. “I’ll tell you I want to go with them. I’ll resist anything you say. Because once they have me, they’ll be able to persuade me to do whatever they want.”
“I won’t let that happen. I know what you want.” He grabbed her into a tight hug and after a moment’s hesitation, Celestine hugged him back. She was careful to keep her skin away from his, but it was a start.
He leaned back and looked down into her eyes. “I think you should take a look, make sure it’s them,” he said softly.
Celestine shook her head vehemently, her curly hair spilling wildly over her face. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“We’ll stay well back out of sight. I’ll go first, make sure they can’t see you.”
“I can feel them. I know it’s them,” she whispered.
“What if I’ve made some kind of mistake? Maybe I’ve spotted the wrong guys. They could be some of Veronica’s goons, or a couple of completely innocent customers.” Sam peered around the corner of the tent, trying to see if the two men were visible. There were too many people walking up and down the alleyway; he couldn’t see them.
“Do you really believe that?”
He glanced back at her. “That I’m wrong? No. But we need to make sure. From a distance, I promise.”
Sam put her gloved hand in his, and they crept around the back of the tent where they’d been hiding. “We need to get closer.”
Celestine reluctantly allowed Sam to lead her back toward her tent. They were behind the adjacent tent when Sam heard raised voices from inside Celestine’s red velvet tent. He tensed.
“It’s them,” whispered Celestine. “I recognise their voices.” She crouched down beside the canvas of the next-door tent.
Sam hesitated, but he couldn’t leave Missy on her own with two over-muscled bullies if they were going to get aggressive with her. “Wait here,” he said. “I have to check on Missy.”
Celestine clutched at his hand. “Don’t leave me.”
Sam crouched down next to her and pulled both her hands in his. “It’s going to be fine. We’re part of the Carnival now. These people take care of their own. And I’m not going to let your brothers take you,” he vowed.
She shook her head sadly. “You won’t have any say in it. That’s not how the magic works.”
“We’ll find you somewhere to hide while I make sure she’s okay. They won’t find you. Then when they’ve gone, we’ll figure out how we’re going to make this work.” Sam crept back to the contortionist’s tent, two down from hers. He found an open flap at the back and urged her inside. “Stay here and don’t move. I’ll come back for you as soon as I make sure Missy is okay.” He touched her arm gently. “It’ll be fine. They won’t find you here.”
Celestine regarded him with her violet eyes, doubt swirling in their depths. Sam hesitated, wondering if he really should be leaving her—but he had no choice. He couldn’t just leave Missy on her own with those thugs.
He ran back out onto the main alleyway, and sprinted towards Madame Fortune’s tent. Pulling the flap aside, he peered into the dark interior, just in time to hear Missy speak.
“You can both get out of here right now. I’ve had enough of your stupid questions,” she said sternly.
The two men were looming over Missy, their eyes narrowed to mean slits.
“What’s going on in here, Missy?” said Sam.
The two men turned at the same time, identical expressions of contempt on their faces. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just asking this pretty fortune-teller some questions.”
“That she doesn’t appreciate from the sounds of it. You can leave now, or I can have security throw you out.” He hoped he sounded more certain than he felt.
“No one’s going anywhere,” snarled the bigger of the two. “Who do you think’s gonna win in a fight? Me and m’brother here, or a pip-squeak fella like you and a woman?”
Sam made a mental note to start taking Garth’s capoeira classes in the mornings, so that if someone ever spoke to him like that again, he could give them the shock of their lives. But for now, it was probably true. “I wouldn’t underestimate carny folk. We can be pretty slippery.”
The bigger man sneered. “You think you’re any different to us? We’re carnies as well, mate, and that’s nothing that’s gonna protect you.”
Sam took a step forward, wondering how many bones these two were going to break on his body. He could see Missy gesturing behind them, but he had no idea what she was planning.
Seconds later, when she leaped on the back of the smaller man, he assumed she’d been telling him to take the larger brother. He managed to duck under a punch from the big man, who was slow with his fists, but the second punch got him in the stomach. Sam stumbled back, winded. He put his hands over his belly, struggling to breathe.
The next punch got him on the side of his head, and Sam slammed onto the hard earth, trying desperately to get his bearings. His attacker loomed over him, his leg pulled back for a kick, when a flurry of action at the entrance made him turn.
Several figures rushed into the tent. A couple of them converged on the larger brother, dragging him away from Sam. Others helped Missy to bring down the smaller brother.
Through his blurry vision and the ringing in his head, Sam vaguely recognized Davos, a couple of Viktor’s sons, and Jack. They had the two men well in hand, pulling their hands up behind their backs.
“You okay?” asked Jack, still panting from the exertion.
Sam nodded weakly from his position on the ground. Everything was still a little bit woozy inside his head, but at least he wasn’t about to be kicked.
“We’ll take care of these two. You both stay here. Recover for a minute.”
Jack led them out the door before Sam could even pull himself up.
“You alright?” said Missy, putting her hand out to grasp Sam’s.
“I’ve been better,” he said, groaning as he came to his feet.
“Where’s Celestine?”
“I left her hiding just down from here. I need to go get her.” He managed to get to his feet, and move toward the door. He was unsteady, and when he got to the tent pole at the entrance, he hung on tight for a moment. The world was spinning, and the suddenness of the attack and then withdrawal had given him a strange adrenaline rush that was affecting his thinking.
He peered out the tent and in one direction saw the group of men, centered on the two brothers who were being pulled toward the main exit.
In the other direction, he saw Celestine peering around the edge of the tent where he’d left her.
When she saw Sam, she ran out onto the main alleyway and into his arms. “I saw them. It was my brothers. They were really here.”
Chapter 23
“I have to leave. That was
too close.” Celestine paced up and down Sam’s clinic, twisting her fingers together restlessly. “They might come back.”
“They’re just thugs who like to make trouble,” said Sam from where he was sitting, drinking a cup of green tea. “They didn’t see you, and Missy says they had no idea she wasn’t the real fortune-teller.”
“Then why did they make the effort to go into the tent? Why did they try to get more information from Missy?” All she could think of was escape, of getting as far away from her brothers as possible. “They probably recognised my mother’s tent.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m sure there are hundreds of other tents just like it. And maybe Missy said something they didn’t like.” He leaned back and put one hand to his stomach. “They didn’t strike me as the kind of guys who think before they hit.” He rubbed the spot where her brother, Alden, had punched him. It made her flush with shame to think that she had gotten him hurt.
“They must have been pretty sure it was supposed to be me.”
“Or they could just try the fortune-teller at every new circus they come across. We can’t know for sure.”
Celestine took a deep breath. And another. Being this close to her brothers again made all the old fears and panic resurface. She thought she’d left all that behind.
But she could never leave it behind.
The thought brought another wave of panic crashing over her body, and she had to sit quickly on the clinic bed before she collapsed. She closed her eyes and lay back on the thin mattress. “What’s the point in having a fortune-telling talent, if you can’t even foresee this kind of thing?” she said softly.
“Celestine...,” said Sam gently.
“Don’t you dare tell me I don’t see the future,” she said fiercely, glaring over at Sam. “Not now. Just pretend for the moment that I do have it, and everything is possible, would you? Just for the next five minutes?” She closed her eyes again and tried to relax into the clinic’s narrow bed.
She heard Sam’s footsteps as he came closer to her bed. She opened one eye and regarded his solemn face.
“I believe you,” he said.
She blinked open her other eye and stared up at him. “Pardon?” Had she heard him properly? She pulled herself up so she was sitting with her legs dangling off the edge of the bed.
“I know you can see the future. I believe you.”
It felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. He’d been so adamant that she was injured. She frowned. “I don’t understand… What changed your mind?”
He paused. “I experienced one of the visions you told me about in real life. Frankie eating churros and the two of us discussing….” He hesitated.
“How you were going to have me followed? That you didn’t trust me?” said Celestine, lifting her eyebrows.
Sam shook his head. “I never believed you meant the Carnival harm. I just don’t trust my instincts anymore. That was what got me into trouble with Veronica.”
Celestine nodded again, something easing inside her as she saw that Sam finally believed what she had been telling him. He moved to sit next to her, his shoulder touching hers.
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you earlier,” he said softly, bumping his shoulder against hers.
“I worked long and hard to build up the reputation for being a fake. I’d have been a little disappointed if you’d believed me straight away,” she said with a half smile. It felt good, knowing he believed her, and that her secret was out. She’d had to work so hard to walk the fine line between bringing in the punters for the fortunes and convincing everyone else at the Carnival she was a fake. She’d had enough.
No more hiding.
But then she remembered her brothers and the reason she’d been hiding in the first place. Her momentary euphoria evaporated. She would always be hiding from them. Her hands tightened onto the edge of the bed. There was no way to escape.
“I could have been more open to it,” insisted Sam. “I knew you were a good person from the beginning. There was no reason for you to lie to me.”
Celestine looked at him and wished things could be different. His dark brown eyes drew her in; all she wanted to do was lean forward and touch him. To place her lips on his, to taste him, to feel his body against hers.
She hadn’t been attracted to someone like this since she was a teenager and had had a crush on a gorgeous young contortionist. Only difference was that he’d never given her the time of day. Sam, however, was looking at her with his intense eyes, something dark and mysterious dancing in their depths. She was on the verge of doing something dangerous when a knock on the door made her jump.
Sam sighed before standing and heading over to open the door. For a moment he hesitated on the doorstep, then he waved someone inside. Looking up, she saw Garth towering over her. It figured.
“Did you have an uncontrollable urge to visit me, too?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment. “The Carnival says you’re not the fake fortune-teller you’ve been pretending to be. Apparently it’s been protecting you since it became strong enough to understand what you were doing.”
His eyes were the expressionless all black they became when he was in the middle of the Gift. It made his face seem dark and unforgiving. Celestine just stared at him, not sure how to answer.
“Take off your gloves,” ordered Garth. He sat down on a wooden stool next to the bed.
“Please,” said Celestine.
Garth frowned. “Please what?”
“If you say please, I might be more inclined to help you,” she said in a patient voice, determined not to be intimidated by him.
Garth bowed his head slightly. “My apologies. Please, Celestine, if you would take off your gloves and let me test your abilities.”
Sam came over to stand beside the bed. Celestine sat on the edge, her feet dangling off the side. She removed her soft leather gloves, finger by finger. She seemed to be spending an awful lot of time recently with her gloves off, telling fortunes. She glanced up at Garth. “You say the Carnival knows I can tell the future? So it was the Carnival that sent you to me?”
“It sent Alfie, Viktor, and Missy too, if that’s what you’re asking.” He stopped and seemed to consider his next words. “None of them thought you could tell the future after their visits.”
Celestine nodded jerkily.
Garth cleared his throat. “I’ve just come from talking to Frankie. He thinks there’s a good chance you can actually tell the future.”
Celestine didn’t know Frankie well, but people seemed to respect his opinions. She knew he was good with gambling and understanding the odds. It occurred to her that his ability was similar to hers, except he used a knowledge of the situation and a kind of fact-based intuition to figure out what might happen in the future. Less precise, but it could be used more widely than her own very specific talents.
“He talked to Alfie and Viktor after they saw you. They explained how your fortunes were completely off base, thereby proving you couldn’t tell the future. But something they said convinced him you were for real.” Garth’s eerie eyes never left Celestine’s face. “You were telling them the exact opposite of what was true. The exact opposite.”
Celestine didn’t know what to say. She glanced at Sam, who was grinning back at her.
“It’s highly improbable that you’d get it so precisely wrong each time,” said Garth.
“As much as I appreciate the fact that the Carnival believes in you, we’ve been through enough recently without being conned by a very clever fake.” Garth bowed his head toward Celestine. “If you’ll excuse the blunt talking.”
“I didn’t know,” blurted Celestine abruptly.
“Didn’t know what?” said Garth, frowning down at her.
“That Abba was going to die.”
Garth had known and worked closely with their former Ringmaster. She didn’t want him thinking she’d just stood by and let it happen.
Garth took a deep breath. “You c
an’t prevent everything in this world, Celestine. Life still happens around us, even with our gifts to lead the way.” His words took on a deeper tone, and Celestine felt a ripple of power.
“You’re joined to the Carnival right now? Because of the Gift?” asked Celestine. Her heart beat faster. She had felt the rich beating heart of the Carnival when she’d first arrived. It had soothed her, enabled her to rest and recover. But its real power had been lying dormant. Now their enemies were defeated—or at least more visible—the power of the Carnival was resurfacing. She wasn’t sure she wanted to touch Garth and be connected to that overwhelming magic.
“Yes.” His lips tightened, but he didn’t elaborate.
Celestine watched Garth carefully, trying to decide what to say to him. “I don’t know what will happen when I touch you. It might be your future, or it might be the Carnival’s.” Celestine hesitated. “I haven’t been seeing very good futures for the Carnival and its people recently,” she said.
Garth nodded again, his face even more grim, if that was possible. “We must do it. If you can truly see our future, and it is not as we’d like it to be... We need to know.”
Celestine let out a breath, relieved to be doing something. She had only ever wanted to help the Carnival, ever since Abba had taken a chance on her. She’d let him down by not being vigilant enough, and he’d died without ever being warned about it, but she could help Garth. “Hold out your hands.”
He held them out, palms up in front of her. Celestine held her hands over his, hesitating for a moment. Before she could change her mind, she grasped his hands in hers.
Everything froze around her. Sam’s warmth next to her, Garth’s hands in hers.
Celestine looked up. The one thing that hadn’t stopped was the swirling mists that churned inside Garth’s black eyes. The power inside him stared out at her, and she held still.