by Sarah Noffke
Sunshine sucked in a sudden breath and then choked on it. She almost thought she’d been slapped across the back but no, she’d been assaulted by the emotions of this invader. It was the weirdest experience she’d ever had. For ten years she’d read people’s emotions. Hundreds of thousands of emotions. But this was the first time she’d ever met someone who had emotions that made her shiver. She looked down at her arms and realized she’d absentmindedly been clawing at her skin. Bile rose in her mouth. Never before had she felt such hatred in a person. The man in front of her was pure evil and there was something else. Something she hadn’t quite figured out at that point.
The man climbed out of the truck and pretended not to notice that most of the circus was staring at him. To Sunshine’s right she spied Titus materialize from the crowd. He was tall but not in comparison to the strange man. The creative director stepped forward. “Knight? What are you doing here? You know you aren’t allowed here,” Titus said, his voice attempting to be strong, but Sunshine spied the cracks in it.
And still the man didn’t look at Titus or the various Vagabond Circus members gawking at him. The man named Knight seemed to have his attention focused on the other trucks. From his high vantage point he could probably spy them well. Finally his narrow eyes brightened as a boy and girl joined him on either side. The girl had orangey red hair and wore an expression of entitlement. The boy had shoulder-length black hair and when he turned to face the crowd Sunshine again felt assaulted. It was Sebastian. The boy who had been under Fanny’s care but ran away from Vagabond Circus. That had always seemed strange to Sunshine. Who would willingly leave the circus?
Only when joined on either side by the girl and Sebastian did the man turn and face Titus, who now stood only a few feet from him. “Well, hello, Titus. It has been too long, hasn’t it?” the man said and his voice sounded like it was running over sandpaper to get out of his throat.
“What are you doing here?” Titus said through clenched teeth, his face already pinched red from his fear and frustration. “You know you aren’t allowed here.”
“Things have changed, haven’t they? Dave is dead.” Then the man dropped his bald head and shook it with pretend grief, but Sunshine felt his emotions and knew that there was no remorse in him. Actually there was pure glee. Sunshine fought the urge to tear forward and attack the man. Her eyes scanned Sebastian and then the redheaded girl. They were protectors. That was what she felt from them. More than just that actually, but mainly that they wanted to protect the man. She knew then that attacking him would never work. But why? Who was Sebastian and who was this man?
The stranger raised his head, a sharp smile in his dark eyes. “Now Titus, if you’ll step aside I’d like to briefly address the circus, my circus,” he added. His voice was scratchy and raw and his words all wrong.
“No! What are you—” Titus began.
The man held up his hand. “I will explain. Step aside.”
And to Sunshine’s horror Titus did step to the side, a fear like she’d never seen in his eyes.
The tall man raised his long arms, holding them out in a greeting fashion. “My name is Charles Knight,” he said in the most unwelcoming voice she’d ever heard. “Dave, your dearly departed ringmaster, was my brother. What a tragedy his loss was,” he said, shaking his head, but inside him Sunshine felt a giddy excitement. “I was shocked when I learned of my brother’s passing. And even more so I was shocked to learn that as his only living relative I am now the majority owner of Vagabond Circus.”
“No!” Titus said, stepping forward.
Charles Knight snapped his menacing eyes on Titus. “Oh, yes,” he growled. And then Titus’s hands shot to his head. Sunshine knew he was feeling pain. Horribly distracting pain. With his head pinned between his hands Titus snuck back into the crowd, instant defeat on his face.
Sunshine had no idea why Titus, who although fearful at times, appeared completely cowardly in front of this man. And Dave had a brother? Where had he been for the ten years she’d lived at Vagabond Circus? Dave never mentioned him. And why were there trucks? What was in them?
Sunshine couldn’t understand any of what had happened. However, she did know two things with ultimate certainty. First: there were dozens of new, unique emotions at Vagabond Circus. Emotions that felt raw and were best labeled as neglect. And second: she knew Titus had withheld information from Vagabond Circus. Dave didn’t die of natural causes. He was murdered. She felt it blast her like a missile at the mention of Dave’s death, but not from Charles Knight. She felt it from Sebastian. Pure and selfish pride. When Knight spoke of Dave’s death, Sebastian was bathed in a gleeful satisfaction. He’d murdered Dave. And the night the ringmaster died had been the night the boy disappeared. Sunshine knew there was more to unravel here and she would. She would undoubtedly stay and find out what happened to Dave. And if Sebastian had in fact killed him as she suspected, then she’d strangle the boy with her own hands. Happily.
Chapter Ten
Since seeing Dave’s figure standing in Fanny’s trailer, Zuma had found it impossible to fully catch her breath. Each attempt to fill her lungs with oxygen was cut short by an ache in her chest, leaving her lightheaded. Yes, she knew that the extremely real form wasn’t Dave. It could talk like him, looked like him, but inside that body was Benjamin’s soul and not Dave’s. His had vanished. Moved on. Still, she kept seeing Dave in her head. Wondering how many ways he lived on in the people of Vagabond Circus. That was the gift and curse of the circus. Anything could happen. The impossible didn’t apply to Vagabond Circus.
After Fanny heavily asserted she be alone to examine Jack, Titus had insisted on chaperoning Zuma to her trailer. On the quiet trip to her place, the creative director kept jerking his head over his shoulder looking for a lurking figure in the dark.
“You think we could be attacked?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know what to expect. Knight can’t be trusted. You’ve already seen that,” Titus said, his voice low.
“Why is he here? Why did he take his inheritance? Why would he want it?” Zuma asked.
“Because Knight once loved Vagabond Circus,” Titus said, his eyes scanning the grounds continuously. “Well, as much as he is capable of loving anything. Anyway, I know when Dave forced Knight to leave the circus that’s when he really broke. Became pure evil.”
“And is that why Knight cursed the circus?” Zuma said. “Because Dave forced him to leave?”
Titus stopped with eyes so wide she could see too much of their white in the dark night. “How do you know about the curse?”
“Finley told me,” she said, studying the new nervousness that covered him.
“He told you?” Titus said, sounding almost angry.
“Well, not what the curse was, but just that Knight had done it. You know what the curse is? Tell me,” Zuma said.
Titus looked around, unable to see much in the dark grounds. Finally he grabbed Zuma’s hand and dragged her toward her trailer. “Not right now. Let’s get you to safety.”
“Titus…” she said, frustrated and confused.
“Not right now, Zuma,” Titus said and there was a rare authority in his voice she didn’t question. She wanted more of that to come out of Titus. If Titus was going to protect Vagabond Circus from Knight then he’d have to be stronger than he’d ever been.
At Zuma’s trailer Titus stood looking around, scanning for hidden dangers. “There’s a meeting first thing tomorrow morning. Knight called it. Be there and then we will figure out what we’re doing next.”
Zuma felt so sorry for Titus. He wanted to protect his people. To get them as far away from danger as possible, but to do that he’d have to give up an empire worth more than anything he’d ever had. The torn look in his eyes made her breath fully catch in her lungs. “Okay,” she said.
“Now get inside there and lock the door. Call me if you need anything, got it?” Titus said.
She nodded and did as she was told, pushing the la
tch closed as soon as she entered the space. However, Zuma didn’t move away from the wall. She stayed there for a long minute. Then she pushed back the curtain of the window beside her. Titus had gone. Zuma realized she was shaking when she pulled the lock back open. She didn’t like defying Titus’s orders. If he were Dave then the thought wouldn’t have even occurred to her, but Titus had never held as much authority as the ringmaster.
Zuma searched the dark but the grounds were quiet. Gloomy. Still. There was one light on, two trailers over. She snuck past Jasmine’s trailer. How confused her fellow acrobat must have been when Jack, Finley, and Zuma disappeared. She’d have to explain so much to her friend tomorrow, Zuma thought.
The light in the trailer beside Jasmine’s was dim, probably just the light over the stove or one in the bathroom. He probably only turned it on briefly, but it was enough for Zuma to know that Finley was inside his trailer. That light hadn’t been on when she’d run past there an hour ago with Titus and Jack following her to Fanny’s trailer.
Zuma brought in a full breath, grateful she could finally breathe properly. Soon she’d be with Finley and have his comfort. His protection. That was the only ray of hope in the current dismal circumstances.
Her fist paused before quietly rapping on the metal door to his trailer. Inside she heard something stir. Her combat sense caught the blinds move quickly. Most would have never seen it. She knew he’d used his super speed to see who was outside his door. Zuma expected that she’d hear the door unlock and pulled back. Then she’d walk forward into Finley’s arms, the only place she’d feel safe. And yet she realized that nothing was happening. She stood for a full thirty seconds when she realized maybe Finley wasn’t about to open the door. But why? Another thirty seconds passed. Zuma knocked again. Quite possibly Finley hadn’t seen her. Couldn’t see his visitor in the dark.
“Finley, it’s me. Open up,” Zuma whispered, her lips an inch from the crack in his door. Her hands pressed into it.
She then felt a weight press against the other side of the door. Something firm. And then Zuma heard a rustling as something slid down the door and landed on the floor. Was Finley sitting with his back against the door? Keeping her out?
Again she knocked. Louder this time. “Finley, what are you doing? Let me in,” Zuma said, then looked over her shoulder spying a movement. Then there was a sound. A twig breaking underfoot. She spied through the dark for Sebastian or Power-Stopper or whoever else could be prowling in the grounds of Vagabond Circus.
She thought she saw something in the distance. Her eyes focused until she saw two green beads in the dark. The light from a nearby streetlight reflected off them. Yes, it was a pair of eyes. She was certain of that. Maybe the eyes of a raccoon or opossum? But then she realized the two reflections in the blackness were too high off the ground to belong to a rodent. The eyes were roughly twenty yards away down a row of trailers and hovered at the height of a person. At Sebastian’s height. However, humans’ eyes weren’t supposed to reflect light, Zuma remembered. Eye shine occurs in nocturnal animals, mostly carnivores who hunt at night. And still this not quite animal, not quite human, moved and the outline of their frame took shape. It was a person. A boy. And then everything but their green eyes went dark. Disappeared. The person’s body was bathed in dark. She was sure it was Sebastian. Sure, although the dark was robbing her senses of so much. And Zuma realized all he had to do was touch her, touch her and she’d be dead. She turned back to the door with a new urgency. “Damn it, Finley, open up,” she said, her voice a hush. “There’s someone out here.”
She felt a thump on the other side of the door like something banged back into it. Finley’s head maybe.
“Go back to your trailer, Zuma. You’re not safe out there,” he said from the other side of the door.
“Finley,” Zuma said, her voice catching in her throat. He was in there! “Let me in then,” she said, whipping her head over her shoulder. The eyes were gone. Had moved.
“You’re not safe in here either,” Finley said, his voice breaking the veil holding Zuma’s emotions back.
“What?” she half croaked out through threatening tears.
“Go away, Zuma,” Finley said, a new sternness in his voice.
From her peripheral Zuma’s combat sense noticed movement behind her, still a bit of distance, but someone was there. Now she knew it.
Zuma turned, putting her back to Finley’s door and scanning the darkness. Whatever had moved was hidden now. “Finley,” Zuma said, her head to the side, pulse racing, “I need your help now. Please.” She said the last word with a begging urgency.
“Then listen to me and do exactly what I say,” Finley said.
Zuma pressed herself into the door, almost sensing she could feel Finley pressed into the other side of the door.
“You’re fast,” he said, his words hard. “Much faster than him. Take off running now and don’t stop until you’re locked inside your trailer. Okay?”
“But Finley,” Zuma almost cried, panic taking over her once steady heart.
“No,” he said in a harsh whisper. “You can’t come in here. Just stay away from me.”
Tears rattled in Zuma’s throat. Her combat sense spied the figure move out into the dark open. Fifteen yards in the opposite direction of her trailer.
“Please,” she said through a bottleneck of tears.
“Go now, Zuma!” Finley yelled, his voice angry and urgent.
She caught the movement in front of her a second before the figure started in her direction. Zuma shot in the other direction, racing for her trailer, using her acrobatic grace to manage the distance ahead of her with precise efficiency. She felt the figure rushing behind her. Heard him moving, not as fast or graceful as her. Zuma’s hand reached for her door before she was there. She whipped it open and shut and locked it in one single movement, like a morbid dance move. She backed away from the door shaking, her eyes pinned on it, realizing how flimsy the divider was from her and the person on the other side. Zuma reached for her cell phone in her pocket when Sebastian’s voice came through her door.
“The night belongs to me, Zuma,” he said in a voice that slithered through her mind, echoing its dark intent. “Let’s play a game from now on, shall we? During the day you’re safe, but watch your back when night comes. Tag, you’re it.” And then a laugh so wrong and sick slipped through the crack. “I’m dying to put hands on you. I’ve always wanted to, but now I have permission.” Another laugh, but this one faded as its owner moved away from the trailer.
Chapter Eleven
Titus checked to ensure the ringer on his mobile phone was on and at full volume. Everyone at Vagabond Circus had his number. They all knew to call for any reason. As he stood motionless in the center of his own trailer his conversation with Zuma sped through his mind, different parts of it all at once, like several tracks playing over each other, inundating his brain.
Titus stared at the door of his trailer. What dangers did he expect to hurt Vagabond Circus members? Besides from what Knight did to Zuma in the office tent and to Titus when he arrived, there had been no other threats, but that was just the thing about Knight. He did things so they were impossible to link to him. Got into people’s heads to create mysterious headaches. Used a boy with poison in the oils of his skin to murder. Commanded Gwendolyn to stop Dream Travelers’ powers so they couldn’t fight back. And suffocated innocent babies when no one was around.
Knight hadn’t made any threats yet, but Titus knew there was still something to be feared. When Knight had been at Vagabond Circus before, in the early years, his presence made everything tense. His precise tone of speaking to people set everyone on edge. And yet he was Dave’s brother so no one said anything about the sinister stares Knight gave them or the things he said which seemed to insinuate threats.
Titus folded his gaze down to the worn carpet of his trailer. He should move. Do something. Eat something. But he felt paralyzed by the thoughts still streaming wildly across his
mind. Zuma wouldn’t leave the circus, but maybe others would if it looked like things were getting worse. Titus wanted to save Dave’s circus from his crazy brother but he didn’t know how. The very man responsible for the ringmaster’s death was now running the show. How was this venture even worth doing anymore? But Titus knew Zuma was right. They couldn’t just run. However, the coward in Titus had been so close. So close to never confronting Knight when he climbed out of that truck upon arriving at Vagabond Circus. He would admit only to himself that once he saw Knight he almost turned and ran the opposite direction, abandoning the circus and its people. He wasn’t a strong man, but he was starting to realize that fate was trying to make him into one. Would fate win or would Titus be defeated? Murdered. Made nameless and forgotten like so many who confronted Knight or opposed him.
And still Titus felt that twitch in his legs to get in his car and drive as far away as possible. He had always run from conflict. Cowered when confronted by bullies. The only time he’d ever been brave was when Knight had come to fight Dave. Knight had just killed his own child. Dave didn’t know when his brother confronted him on the day Dave’s wife, Cynthia, gave birth that the child wasn’t his. And Dave also didn’t know that Knight had just found out he’d murdered his own son. But all was revealed as Knight smashed his fist again and again into the ringmaster’s face. With each swing of Knight’s arm he told a piece of the story. And Titus had watched from a distance, thinking he was going to witness Knight beat his best friend to death. Just watch. Unable to build up the courage to stop it. And he almost did.
But then somehow something took possession of him. Titus remembered moving with an urgency, his hands not hesitating when he neared Knight. He grabbed his arm, which was in the process of throwing another punch into Dave’s bloody face. Knight, who knew Titus was a coward, turned with a look of pure shock when he discovered the creative director was the one stopping him. When people act in ways incongruent to their usual behavior they have the most advantages. That’s how Titus gained the advantage on Knight that day. While the assailant was momentarily beset with shock, Titus threw his own punch into Knight’s face. Forty years of repressed anger rocketed out of Titus’s fist, breaking Knight’s nose and sending him to the ground where he was quickly restrained by two crew members.