The Magic Carnival Box Set: Books 1-3

by Trudi Jaye

  Shaking her head, Constance forced her way through her fear. Would Sunrise leave her here? She pictured his open, smiling face. No, he wouldn’t. Not if he could help it.

  They’d spoken many times on their journey, mostly late at night when everyone else was asleep, and the murky blackness of below-decks had kept her awake. In whispered tones, he’d told her silly stories of the traveling circus life, and she’d swapped tales of living on the streets of London. Nothing serious. Nothing to warrant the way she wanted to have him whisper sweet nothings in her ear or run his hands along her body.

  Peering around the corner of her hidey-hole, she wondered where Sunrise had gone. What kind of transportation could he possibly have in mind?

  The gentry she’d been watching were almost all loaded up. A lantern had been successfully lit by one of the sailors, and it swung unsteadily in the wind and rain on a pole attached to the bow of the small boat. If she was going to find a way onto the boat, this was it. She had to do it now. She tensed as if to move. But something held her back.

  I’ll return for you…

  “Sir. Your turn. On you get.” A sailor shouted over the roar of the waves at the man with the big nose, and both men climbed unsteadily onto the rocking boat. Another sailor worked the winch that lowered the boat into the water, and they were gone, consumed by the storm raging around them. There were no more boats.

  Fear crept over her body, so blinding she couldn’t breathe. She’d lost her opportunity. She was going to die alone in the darkness, wind and rain beating at her body until she submitted to its will. The storm would pummel the very life out of her; chew her up and spit her out into the waiting sea.

  Constance stared out at the massive waves thrashing the small boat stuffed with people, her fingers holding tight to the rope beside her. The tiny lantern glowed like a beacon, allowing her to see the terrified faces of those on board. She didn’t know what was worse—being here on a sinking ship, or out there on the tiny boat.

  She swallowed. Would Sunrise really come back for her? Or should she jump into the ocean? A shudder rocked the ship, and she flinched, a small squeak escaping out her mouth.

  “Oy. Constance.” A small boy appeared at her side, looking at her expectantly.

  Jimmy, Sunrise’s constant shadow.

  Like Sunrise, he didn’t seem to notice the tossing of the ship. She swallowed and nodded.

  “Sunrise says you gotta come with me. You’re on the boat wiv us.”

  “What boat?”

  “The otha’ side. The first mate, he said the captain’s tender was too smashed up, but Sunrise, he din’t take that as an answer. He fixed it up for us when he first heard the crew talkin’ ‘bout the storm. But you gotta come now.”

  Constance hesitated. Would she be better to stay with the ship, try her luck with the gods of the deep from here? A broken boat didn’t sound hopeful.

  Lightning flashed, followed by the straining groan of breaking wood as one of the three masts came crashing down, hitting the cabin beside them. Constance covered her face with her arms as splinters from the massive pole pelted down on them. The ship was coming apart.

  The young boy crouched next to her. “You gotta come now,” he insisted, his hand dragging at her arm. “I aint waitin’ for ya.” He turned and raced along the deck, disappearing around a corner.

  Constance levered herself up against the side of the cabin. What other option did she have? Where else did she think she was going to go?

  “Wait for me,” she called out before stumbling after the nimble-footed young boy across the middle of the ship. She turned the corner, and was immediately forced back by the thrust of gale-force winds. Sleet beat at her skin, and she held up her hand to protect her face.

  The decking under her tilted to one side as another massive wave grasped the ship. Constance grabbed for something to keep her in place and a sob broke free as she missed the rope she’d been aiming for. She slid toward the side of the ship, clawing at the deck. Her fingers caught on a thick rope, and she managed to hold herself in place, one leg dangling overboard. Knees bent, she crawled until she was away from the gaping hole on the side of the ship. She pulled herself upright, clinging to the rigging with all her might. Her water-logged skirts clung to her legs, doubling her weight.

  She lifted her face and glared up at the dark sky, pushing back her shoulders. Damned if she was going to die like this. The same instinct that had found her a last-minute berth on this worthless ship made her thumb her nose at the storm. She would go down fighting.

  Clinging to the railing, she crawled in the direction Jimmy had run. A roaring sound made her turn her head. An enormous wave the size of a house surged over the ship towards her, and she screamed.

  Her voice was lost in the roar of the ocean, and Constance did the only thing she could. She ran for the boat.

  As the ship tipped to one side, she started sliding, and grabbed the nearest object to her, winding her arms through a thick piece of rigging. Maybe the sea would leave her be. Maybe it would go after a more succulent morsel. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to the gods of the deep.

  Salty sea water surrounded her, devouring her body whole, pushing at her from every angle. Her heavy skirts dragged her down, following the current of the surging wave. She clung to the rigging with all her might, her arms and legs wrapped around the ropes. She couldn’t breathe, submerged as she was in the sea’s surging waters, and the pain in her chest built until Constance didn’t think she could hold her breath any longer.

  She would have to inhale the water around her, becoming another victim of the deep blue sea.

  Just as she opened her mouth in a desperate attempt to gasp for a breath she knew wouldn’t come, the wave was gone. It disappeared over the other side of the ship, leaving destruction in its wake. The ship tipped back upright and, still panting, Constance thumped her feet back on the deck, using the sagging rope to gain her balance. Her entire body felt like it had been through a butter churn, and she could no longer feel her hands.

  She looked down the ship through bleary eyes. Was the captain’s tender still there? What about Jimmy? And Sunrise? Her heart skipped a beat. What if he had been in the small boat? He could be dead already.

  She crawled to the side of the ship, peering over the edge, and holding tight to the rail. The small boat was still there, tethered tight to the side. Lightning blazed across the sky. In the sudden light, she could see the boat had strange additions to it, with four large oak barrels attached to the sides, and additional ropes and timber tied together near the back. The giant hole in the side had been hastily patched up using wood and rusty nails. There was no one on it, but in the water, she caught a glimpse of heads bobbing in the rough seas.

  “Help us launch the boat, Constance. We must save them.” Sunrise spoke urgently from behind her, and she turned. His familiar face was focused on untying the boat from its stays, and he barely looked at her. There were three other men; one large and solid holding a glowing lantern, another tall and thin, and the third holding his large arm around a woman with two young children, a boy and a girl, their clothes drenched and bedraggled. Constance recognised them all from their cramped lodgings below-decks.

  “Constance, hurry. They won’t last out there for long.” Sunrise’s voice was impatient.

  Constance was jolted out of her trance, and moved to the rope Sunrise was pointing at.

  “Undo it, and throw it into the bow of the boat. Then help Therese and the children on board.” He gestured to the woman and her children. “We must be fast.”

  Constance followed his lead without hesitation. She had seen Jimmy’s small dark head way out in the water.

  She practically dragged the woman and her two children onto the boat and, at last minute, another man and woman rounded the corner of the big ship. The woman had blood from a gash on her forehead running down her face onto her elegant dress, and her long blonde hair hung limply around her shoulders. The man had a distinguished si
lver stripe at the front of his hair, and a matching embroidered jacket and vest. He had his arm around the woman’s waist, unsteadily leading her to the boat.

  “Hamiltyn. You made it,” said Sunrise with a pleased glance at the newcomers. “I couldn’t find you in the chaos.”

  “It was touch and go, Sunrise. But yes, we’re here.” The man’s cultured voice was strong even over the noise of the storm. “Can someone please assist my wife?”

  Constance nodded and gathered the injured woman into the boat, while Hamiltyn helped Sunrise and the other men with the final preparations.

  “Constance, take the lantern from Mac,” ordered Sunrise, as he coiled the last of the rope and placed it into the boat.

  Holding out her hand, Constance took the small lantern from the large man with muscled shoulders and an impressive handlebar moustache, and hooked it to the pole at the end of the boat, where it gave off an unsteady flickering light.

  Then the men climbed into the boat, making it rock unsteadily.

  “Will it hold, Mac?” asked Sunrise, glancing around at their makeshift vessel.

  “It better,” said the large man in a gruff Scottish accent as he turned to prepare the rope and pulley system that would lower them to the water. Constance glanced anxiously at the ship next to them. The chances of their tiny boat being beaten against the side suddenly seemed quite high.

  The boat rocked sharply, and Constance held her breath, but the men winched them quickly down the short distance to the water. They landed with a heavy thump and the little boy cried out, clinging to Constance’s dress. She ran her hands over his hair, and shushed him, trying to give comfort she wasn’t sure she possessed.

  The oak barrels steadied the small boat once they hit the stormy seas, and the timber at the back turned out to be another small vessel for survivors. If there were any more.

  Somehow, once they were on the sea, the storm seemed louder. Her heart lurched in her chest with every jerky movement of their tiny boat. The rain belted them, and everyone clung to the sides.

  Everyone except Sunrise. He crouched at the bow, searching the waves for the people they’d lost overboard. “Over there!” He yelled, pointing. “He’s over there.”

  Now they were off the boat, the sky seemed lighter. The eclipse of the moon was also moving slowly off to one side, its lopsided circular glow visible in a gap between the clouds. Its eerie glow gave off enough light to allow Constance to see a tiny head bobbing in the sea. Jimmy. He wasn’t far.

  Sunrise leaped to the middle of the boat, grabbed the oars, and pulled them through the waves. His large arms bulged as he fought the storm, but he didn’t give in. Constance moved to the side of the boat, not wanting to let the boy out of her sight. He was swimming towards them, small wavering strokes that made it clear he wasn’t an expert. Constance tried not to gasp as a wave took him out of their line of sight. A moment later he was back in view.

  As Jimmy came closer, she leaned out, her hand trying to grasp his. He was so close, she could see the whites of his wide, fearful eyes. Just as her hand touched his, a wave hit them and he swallowed a mouthful of salty water, coughing as it went down the wrong way.

  He slid out from her reach.

  She leaned out even further, desperate to save him. Two large hands clamped down on her waist and Constance flinched, instinctively trying to twist out of the unexpected grip. She glanced behind her and realized it was Sunrise, crouched directly behind her, his face grim. Two of the other men were at the oars.

  Constance turned back and leaned out as far as her body would take her without being dumped into the sea. She was strong and fit, but even aside from that, she knew Sunrise would keep her safe. Her hand found purchase, gripping the small cold hand of the scrappy young boy. She grabbed him with both hands and dragged him toward her.

  When he was up against the side, Sunrise leaned around her and pulled the boy onto the boat. Jimmy landed coughing and spluttering in the middle.

  “Jimmy.” Sunrise handed the boy his jacket. “Put this around you.”

  Jimmy didn’t say a word, just took the jacket and wrapped it around his freezing body. Constance sat next to him, taking his hands in hers, and rubbing them quickly over his skin. He was shivering with cold.

  Constance turned back to the surging sea around them, looking for more of the heads she’d seen in the waters. “Over there,” she shouted, pointing to a couple clutching at a piece of timber.

  Slowly the men turned the tiny boat around and moved toward the floating survivors. It was a man and a woman, their pale faces reflecting the glowing circle of the eclipsed moon.

  It seemed to take forever, but eventually they made it alongside.

  “Oh thank you, thank you,” said the woman, her voice shaking. “Tis a miracle.”

  Sunrise helped her crawl onto the makeshift vessel tied to the back of their boat, and then pulled the man on after her. Once on board, they clung to each other, still gasping from their rescue. The woman’s long red hair lay tangled down her back, and a tattoo of a dragon wound its way down her bare arm.

  “The storm is blowing us back out to sea!” a voice called out over the noise of the waves, raw with panic. Therese was pointing behind them.

  Constance glanced up. She was right. The ship was on the wrong side of their boat—the land should have been right there in front of them, and it wasn’t.

  One of the women wailed, her voice following the highs and lows of the waves around them. Constance couldn’t breathe. This was it. They were all going to die out here in the middle of this God-forsaken sea. They couldn’t win against the monsters of the deep. They were too small and fragile compared to the wrath of the sea gods.

  Constance wrapped her arms around Jimmy’s shoulders, holding the young boy close, and trying not to release the large sobs that were clawing their way up her throat.

  “We gonna die?” Jimmy whispered in her ear.

  Heart in her throat, Constance shook her head. “Not yet, Jimmy. Sunrise’ll figure a way out of this.” Thinking of Sunrise, Constance looked up, her eye catching his straight away.

  He was watching her, in that way he had. When everything else around them seemed busy, moving, distracting, his eyes could look straight at her and everything went still. She took a breath. And another. Maybe he really could save them.

  And then it all came back, the storm, the rain, the wind, the waves. The screams, the fear in the eyes of the children. Constance couldn’t think of anything else to do, so she prayed to the gods all around them; to the beast that lived in the sea, to the gods that traveled on the wind and the storm, to the Christian God above. She prayed to every last god she could think of who might give them their lives on this dark night.

  “Don’t take us, we’re no use. A ragtag bunch, that’s us, isn’t it Jimmy,” she whispered. “Leave us be on this boat, we’re good folk.”

  She hugged Jimmy tighter to her chest as a wave rocked the tiny boat. She could hear someone screaming, and the boat tipped to one side, almost capsizing. The oak barrels were the only thing that kept them afloat. As Constance watched helplessly, the woman with the wound on her forehead on the other side of the boat tumbled out into the water. She leaned forward, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to reach her, but needing to try.

  A strong hand grabbed the woman’s arm just as she was about to be swallowed by the sea. Sunrise. Always there when people needed him. He adjusted his grip, and a white-faced Hamiltyn helped him drag his now-unconscious wife back into the boat. They huddled in the middle of the boat, Hamiltyn holding his wife tight, whispering in her ear.

  Sunrise heaved a breath and looked around. “Hold on tight. Don’t let go. If we are to survive this, we must take care of each other.” His voice boomed over the noise of the storm.

  “We’re going to die,” mumbled Therese, sitting next to Constance. “What does it matter if we hold on? We’re going to die.”

  Constance shook her head, turning to face Therese, Jimm
y still clutched to her side. “We do everything we can to survive, right up to the end. Fortune favors the brave,” she said fiercely.

  “What’s the use?” Tears were streaming down the woman’s already wet face. She was shaking and rubbing her hands up and down the arms of her children. The little girl whimpered and looked up at her mother.

  “I’ve been in worse scrapes than this,” said Constance, gathering her courage. “The only way to survive is to believe we will. We must stay strong. You never know what the gods will send us.”

  “The young woman is right. We should pray,” said Therese’s husband, his generous chin nodding. “God might yet save us.”

  Constance glanced at him, startled. She’d not meant they should all pray exactly, although that’s just what she had been doing. She’d long ago given up on the God the churches talked about. She’d seen too much on the streets and working for Larkin. Instead she’d started talking to her own gods, the everyday ones she could feel around her.

  But everyone else was nodding, agreeing with the man who’d made the suggestion. And it didn’t seem like such a terrible idea, not with the wind blowing and the wind crashing around them. They could use whatever help they could get. But she would be praying to her own gods. Perhaps the beast at the bottom of the sea, the creature who was playing with them like they were debris in the surf.

  “Our father, who art in heaven...” the voice droned on, and the men and women and children around her bowed their heads. Constance watched them all, until her eyes fell on Sunrise. He was staring back at her, his expression grim. She could almost see the storm reflected in his eyes, and wondered why. She frowned at him, and for a moment forgot where she was, in her annoyance at his apparent disapproval. She hadn’t done anything.

  “Praying will not help us. It will be our wits and our strength of character that will get us out of this alive,” he said, loud enough to be heard by everyone on the boat. “Open your damn eyes and help me look for more people in the water. I know there are more people out here.”

  Ah. He thought she was encouraging them in their helpless praying. She shrugged. She happened to believe that those who wanted their God could have him. Another large wave rocked their boat, as if the temperamental beast below disagreed with her statement. She squeezed her eyes shut, and held on to Jimmy and the side of the boat, her mind stilling down to one thought. You don’t want us, sea beast. Take those tasty toffs on the other boats. We’re just ordinary folk.