by Sarah Noffke
An abrupt laugh. “You are an out of touch idiot,” she said.
Oliver suddenly felt full, like a vacuum that had sucked up enough hair and dirt and couldn’t hold anything else. He could finally take no more. “Padmal, you and I are through,” Oliver said, slicing his hand through the air.
Nabhi and Haady were doing a poor job of pretending their attention wasn’t on the fighting couple.
“No,” she said, in one long word, her voice rising an octave, “we aren’t. You don’t get to make that call, Oliver. I tell you when we’re done.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Oliver, you can’t leave me.”
He turned, putting his back to her. “Oh, but I can.”
“Do it and I will make your life hell,” Padmal said, her eyes on the place between his shoulder blades.
Oliver turned back to her, a sadistic grin on his usually sweet face. “You already do.”
“How dare you,” Padmal said and raised her hand to slap him. But behind her Nabhi caught it in mid-slap using his telekinesis. “What the hell. Let me go, Nabhi,” she almost screamed, feeling her brother’s energy restrict her. The triplets were attuned to each other’s specific energy related to their telekinesis, having worked together all these years. Nabhi’s energy felt like charcoal. Haady’s had the sensation of sand against ones skin. And Padmal’s was sharp like granite.
“No. Not until you promise not to assault Oliver. We don’t hurt each other,” Nabhi said to his sister.
“Oliver deserves it,” she said, her hand held in the air, unmoving.
The illusionist shook his head. “You know, Padmal,” he said, nearing her, realizing she was frozen under her brother’s telekinesis. “Your brothers forged the death certificate about your mother.”
“Oliver,” Haady said, suddenly shocked by this admission and unaware of how Oliver knew that since the brothers hadn’t told anyone.
“It’s okay, Haady,” Oliver said, his eyes still on Padmal. “Ian gave me some interesting information. Guess what, Padmal, your mother isn’t dead.”
“What?” she said, able to move her lips and eyes but nothing else. Nabhi had her body restricted, so strong was his telekinetic lock on her.
“Dave did save you,” Oliver said, his raspy voice carrying strength. “He knew, based on Ian’s vision, that if you stayed at the orphanage you’d be cursed and heartbroken. That’s why he adopted you when he did. Because your mother came the next day.”
“No,” she said.
“Oh yes, but she didn’t want you. She wanted her first-born son, Haady. Your mother could only afford him. And if Dave hadn’t adopted you then you would have rotted away with resentment at that orphanage. Instead you came here where you’ve become a rotten little bitch.” Then Oliver stood back two feet. He brought his face up to Nabhi and Haady. “Now you all know the truth.”
The brothers’ eyes watered slightly, a sweet fondness for Dave who always gave people what they needed even if they were like Padmal and hated him for it.
“Padmal, don’t ever come near me again,” Oliver said. “If you do then I will haunt you with illusions of your mother telling you what a horrid person you are. We are through.” Then he looked at Nabhi. “Release her.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Nabhi pulled his telekinesis off his sister’s limbs but stepped in closer in case she decided to attack Oliver, who he thought was standing too close to Padmal.
“You’re going to regret this, Oliver,” she said, spit flicking from her angry mouth. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“I’m sure you think so,” Oliver said, lowering his pinned up shoulders. He felt like a barbell loaded with too much weight had been lifted off him.
Padmal spun around, ready to charge off. Then she saw the perfect instrument for revenge. The fight had earned her the attention of almost every person in the big top. Even Knight was regarding the scene with a mild interest. The one person who wasn’t paying attention was the one who had been picked by Padmal for retribution. Sebastian was passing by her and the group of freaks, his head down, thoughts circling with plans of sabotage. Padmal turned and stalked in his direction, cutting off his path. He almost ran straight into Padmal, but halted just in time, two inches from her. Sebastian’s gift, which to most resembled more of a curse, made him all too aware of his proximity to people.
He regarded Padmal with an irritated curiosity, but she didn’t notice it. She was too busy flipping her head over her shoulder to shout back to Oliver.
“This is what you’re missing out on, you stupid asshole,” she said. And then before anyone could stop her, including Sebastian, she whipped back around and threw her arms around the boy’s neck, pulling his lips to hers. Sebastian hesitated, his arms out wide with shock and indecision. But after feeling the urgent pressure of the arms around him and the incredible force of her lips pushed into his, he caved and yanked the girl into him. Sebastian had never been kissed. He actually hadn’t been hugged, since the surrogates weren’t the hugging type. They did direct the children sometimes by holding their hands. And when he was eleven, a surrogate named Brittany grabbed his hand. A few seconds later she fell to the floor dead. Since that moment, no one had willingly embraced Sebastian. He’d touched hundreds of people, but only enemies of Knight’s. And they were all dead now.
Intent on enjoying his first kiss and embrace, Sebastian grabbed Padmal’s face, tangled his fingers in her silky hair, and covered her mouth more with his own.
Finley, seeing the exchange, jerked into a standing position.
Knight held out a hand to halt his son. “Nothing you can do about it now,” he said flatly. “She’s gone.”
Oliver, beside Padmal, turned away, disgusted by how pathetic and diabolical the girl he once loved was acting. And just then, when Sebastian was about to deepen the kiss, Padmal collapsed in his arms. Her mouth didn’t kiss his. Her arms fell slack by her side. The girl’s head lobbed back at a weird angle.
Finley did move then, but not to save Padmal, but rather others. Sebastian let her slide from his arms until she lay on the dirt floor of the big top. As soon as she was down, Sebastian stepped over her body and simply strolled toward Knight. Oliver, who had been turning away when the girl went limp, rushed for her, as did her brothers. Finley switched on his turbo speed and cleared the big top in half a second. He halted in front of Padmal’s outstretched body, blocking the three boys from it.
“Don’t touch her. She’s been poisoned and if you do you will be too,” he said, not out of breath at all.
They squinted at him and then to the lifeless body of the beautiful girl.
“Is she okay?” Haady asked, kneeling down and studying his sister for clues to her sudden state. “How do we help her if we can’t touch her?”
“You can’t,” Finley said. Then his head revolved over his shoulder and his eyes connected with Sebastian, who stood beside Knight. “Sebastian is poisonous. The oils he secretes are lethal.”
“Wait! What are you saying?” Oliver said, looking at the body and then at the acrobat he firmly trusted, but who was also blocking him from Padmal.
“She’s dead. Sebastian killed her,” Finley said.
Nabhi and Haady in unison took shallow gasps of air. Tears prickled Haady’s eyes. Nabhi retreated into a tunnel in his mind where the current reality was something he was watching on a screen.
“No, this is a mistake—” Haady said.
“It’s no mistake,” Knight said from across the big top.
Everyone in the tent was now focused on the scene.
“Leave her. She got what she deserved and I won’t have her derailing our schedule any longer,” Knight said, and then turned to Sebastian. “I think you’ve accidentally done me a favor. Padmal was obnoxious and ungrateful. Remove her from the big top. Call the authorities. You know the drill.”
Sebastian smiled slightly, walking toward the girl whose lips were minutes ago on his. It hadn’t
been a good kiss but he had nothing to compare it to.
“You have poison in you?” Oliver asked when Sebastian stopped by Padmal’s body. Finley stood like a wall between the two boys.
“On my skin. Want to shake?” Sebastian said, holding out a hand.
Oliver shook his head and took a step back.
“You’re calling the authorities. Are you going to tell them you just killed her?” Oliver said, his voice bordering on irate.
“No, I’m going to tell them I found her like this. And they are going to examine her using gloves because they’re coroners who know best and they will determine she died of cardiac arrest. It appears that the business of being in the circus is very taxing on the heart,” Sebastian said, a sadistic smile in his voice.
“You…” Oliver said, connecting the pieces that had finally been overturned. Finley stepped back and clamped a hand on the illusionist’s shoulder to restrain him if necessary.
“Yes, me,” Sebastian said, his voice riddled with prideful glee. He then grabbed both Padmal’s limp hands, lifted them, and dragged the girl’s body out of the big top. Her dragged body made a path that looked like a giant snake had slithered through the tent. Everyone watched, powerless to protest, and too dumbstruck by the weirdness and wrongness to do anything but shrink inside themselves. It was right then that most of Vagabond Circus singularly made up their minds. Knight had to be stopped.
Chapter Sixty
Nabhi and Haady remained frozen, staring at the entrance where Padmal was dragged through. For a solid ten minutes neither brother moved. Oliver, on the other hand, ran for the practice tent to find solace. He was more shaken by the bizarre events that had transpired than by the fact that Padmal was dead. Neither her brothers nor Oliver would admit that they had thought of the possibility. Thought things would be better without her around. Usually in this fantasy, Padmal left the circus, but death provided the same result, only made it more permanent.
Now that Padmal was gone there wouldn’t be peace, as Nabhi had longed for. Unfortunately, her death brought a new level of animosity that would grow under the surface of the circus like hidden mold. Now that Padmal was dead, there were more problems. Her death brought so much to light, like the fact that a boy with the ability to murder was in their midst, but that shouldn’t have been a concern. Everyone’s skills at Vagabond Circus could be deadly in the wrong hands. Oliver could deceive with illusions. Zuma could read people’s thoughts. Sunshine could roast a person. And Jasmine could have broken someone’s neck with no effort. But Sebastian had a skill, and had used it to kill.
And now everyone was ready to finally make their own assumptions about Jasmine’s mysterious death. If most hadn’t questioned Jasmine’s cause of death before, then they did after these events. Jasmine had been murdered. Dave, who was in good health as well, had died of the same causes. Cardiac arrest. The exact same report that would come out on Padmal. The Vagabond Circus members moved quietly, getting ready for their roles. But all of them now knew that Knight wasn’t just the bad man they suspected who had inherited a circus. He was the worst man, and an extremely dangerous one, and he’d stolen the circus.
Chapter Sixty-One
The show the night Padmal was killed was the darkest one yet. The brothers had less trouble performing than most would have thought. They had a routine ready, having performed it without her when she was recovering from the knife injury. And that night their tricks were faster than ever before. Nabhi moved with a grace he’d never owned, spinning his hands in perfect rotation with the knives that weren’t really touching him, but rather moving telekinetically through the air. Haady’s knives soared higher, reaching up to over twenty feet in the air. Then, when the brothers switched to juggling the knives between each other, the crowd gasped at the flawless transition. The boys dared to separate, both backing up to the opposite side of the ring. The knives flew across the neon green rug at a distance none had ever seen before. They weren’t performing like they had before, when Padmal was injured. They were performing like they were finally free, their genius allowed to soar out of them. It was important for everyone at Vagabond Circus to witness this act and realize that tolerating abusive people will always have far-reaching effects. People do themselves little favor by allowing a toxic person a place within their life.
After the show the crew worked as they never had before, disassembling the big top. No one said a word or made a comment about Ian, who sat still, not helping his crew. His eyes were strangely focused, moving side to side at times like he was watching the flight path of a fly. The crew, knowing the drive wasn’t far to the next performance spot, hauled the trailers and semis down the 101 the night of the last show. It was like they all feared the ghost of Padmal would soon rise from the earth and haunt the people of Vagabond Circus.
As soon as Finley parked his trailer on the new grounds, he was surprised to hear a knock at his door, as though the person calling had been riding on his bumper over the last forty miles. Finley hesitated before finally unlocking the flimsy metal door and pulling it back. And again he was surprised. This time it was by who stood at his door. He found Titus there, waiting for him. And then he was even more shocked when the creative director encouraged Finley back into his trailer, going with him as he did. Titus shut the door behind him after swinging his gaze over his shoulder, like he was afraid to be spied there.
“We’ve got to talk, but we don’t have long,” he said in a rush.
“Titus, what’s wrong?” Finley said, studying the man before him.
“What isn’t wrong, don’t you mean?”
“I mean, is there something new? Is Zuma okay?”
Titus nodded. “Yes, I’ve ordered her to stay in her trailer and call me or Oliver if she needs to leave for any reason. She isn’t safe by herself anymore.”
Finley clenched his fist until his nails bit into the skin. Sebastian shouldn’t have this type of rule, but he did and the circus was growing more powerless to stop it. Padmal’s death was proof of that.
Titus stared down, a deliberate speculation in his eyes. “I didn’t know you were Knight’s son,” he said, shaking his head like the news still hadn’t sunk in properly.
“Yeah, apparently Fanny held on to that secret alone.” Finley had questioned the healer at length since finding out the news. She kept her answers brief and strangely clinical.
“I had to know for myself and so I dream traveled into the past and followed the baby Fanny saved. She in fact took him to an orphanage,” Titus said, his eyes to the right of Finley like he couldn’t bear to look directly at the acrobat.
“Yes…” Finley said, daring to hope the story had a new ending.
“And I visited the child for the month he was at the orphanage and I can confirm that child was adopted by Knight,” Titus said.
“But did the child grow up to be me?”
Titus looked at Finley, his eyes overflowing with remorse. “I’m afraid you are his son.”
Finley gave a slow nod, one full of heavy emotion but already a growing acceptance.
“And when I confirmed that I couldn’t have been happier about the news,” Titus said, his voice growing with positive emotion.
Finley jerked his head up. “You what? Excuse me?”
Titus held up his hand to try to pause the series of confused thoughts streaming through Finley’s mind. “I’m truly sorry for what you’ve been put through. That your mother died. That you have a deeper connection with that wretched man.”
“But…?” Finley asked, realizing there had to be a but.
“Finley, I’ve been searching for a way to stop Knight. A way to get ahead of him. I’ll admit that at times I wanted to give up, firmly believing that we were already defeated. I have been at such a loss. And then Jasmine died and I almost thought it was time to make you all leave, but Fanny wouldn’t let me do it…because that brilliant woman knew we still had hope.” Titus’s eyes beamed with a pride he usually only showed when watching his
circus.
“Hope?” Finley said, almost like that was a foreign word he used to know, but forgot its meaning.
“Yes, we have you,” Titus said, and he sounded light for the first time in months.
“And you think I offer hope because I’m Knight’s son? You may be disappointed then,” Finley said. “Knight won’t do anything I say. I’m more obligated to him than ever before.”
Titus shook his head. “It’s not about getting Knight to do anything. It’s about stopping him.”
Finley almost laughed at this. “And you think I can do that?”
“I know you can. Finley, you have his blood. You have Dave’s blood,” Titus said, and now there was pride in his tone. “It will still take work on our part. We will all have to work together and stealthily, but Zuma has a pretty good plan and so far it sounds like it could work. And now that we have you, we have the final ingredient. We have a chance.”
“Why does my relation to Knight make any difference? I’m still powerless. I’m still under his influence or otherwise he’ll punish you all,” the acrobat said.
“Finley, the ability to curse, it’s a craft, yes. It must be learned.” Titus spoke slowly, giving each of his words time to sink in. “But it can only be learned by a select few. There are only certain lineages who can produce curses. Lineages of Dream Travelers with pure blood. You see, there are only a few founder families left. And…” Titus left the word hanging in the air, knowing Finley was smart enough to piece this all together.
“Knight and Dave were from founder families?” Finley said.
“Yes, they had pure blood and more importantly they are from the family with the gift to curse.”
Finley’s eyes shifted back and forth on the carpet as he put it all together. “Which means…”
“Here,” Titus said, pulling a leather notebook from behind the waistband at his back. It had been covered by his shirt. He handed it to Finley. “This was Dave’s.” He smiled. “Your uncle. It’s his notes on his ancestry, but more importantly it has the laws on curses and how to produce them. It’s tricky and there’s much you need to understand first before you attempt one, so you must be really well versed on the subject. I don’t want you to even think about producing a curse until you’ve thoroughly studied this information.”