The Marvelwood Magicians

by Diane Zahler

  The man stood up again. He stripped off his T-shirt and jeans. In his underwear, he ran around the stage, clucking like a chicken. The crowd howled with laughter.

  “Stop!” Master Morogh commanded. He smiled at the audience. “We get the idea.” He clapped his hands, and the man gave a start. He looked down at himself, clad only in purple boxers, and at his clothes in a pile. Frantically, he tried to cover himself with his hands. The audience went wild. Beet-red, the man snatched up his clothes and jumped off the stage, running through the crowd as they hooted.

  “That was really mean,” Mattie whispered to Bell.

  “You’re crazy! That guy in his underwear—it was so funny!”

  Master Morogh scanned the audience again, and his gaze landed on Mattie and Bell, standing in the back. He smiled.

  “Young man!” he said, pointing at Bell. “Come on up.”

  Mattie grabbed Bell’s arm, but he shrugged her off and scampered toward the stage.

  “Bell, no!” Mattie called after him, feeling a stab of panic. “We don’t have time!”

  “It won’t take long, little lady,” Master Morogh assured her. Mattie met his eyes, sharp and knowing below their high arched brows, as Bell climbed the steps to the stage.

  “Stand there, and look at the pendulum,” Master Morogh ordered Bell. Bell planted himself in front of the metronome, and Master Morogh started it up. Click-clack, click-clack it went, back and forth. Mattie watched Bell fearfully. It took only a couple of moments for the light to leave his eyes. Like the frat guy and the woman before him, his expression went slack and lifeless.

  “No!” Mattie said again. She started for the stage, her heart pounding. “Bell, come back here!” But Bell couldn’t hear her.

  “Now, young man, what is your name?” Master Morogh asked. His tone was warm and gentle.

  “Bell Marvelwood,” Bell answered in a wooden voice.

  “How old are you?”

  “Nine.”

  “And what do you do?”

  Mattie reached the steps to the stage. She held her breath as Bell answered.

  “I disappear,” Bell said.

  The audience laughed, maybe thinking he meant that he avoided his chores at home. Master Morogh smiled and bent close to Bell. He said something that Mattie couldn’t hear.

  “Bell, wake up!” Mattie cried. There was something wrong here, something very wrong. But Master Morogh kept his gaze on Bell. He reached out his hand, his right hand, ungloved, and Bell lifted his own hand. Their fingers touched.

  Mattie raced across the stage, breathing hard. As she reached Bell, she saw a great shudder shake him from his head to his feet. Something leaped between his fingers and Master Morogh’s, like an electric shock, and Master Morogh jumped. Then they were both still.

  CHAPTER 8

  Mattie stamped her foot on the floor of the stage. “Stop it!” she shouted. “Wake him up!” Bell stood limply in front of her, his arms now at his sides.

  “Of course, my dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Master Morogh said, pulling on his glove. His voice was calm again, and he smiled. He clapped his hands three times, and Bell’s face changed.

  Mattie looked closely at him. He seemed awake—confused but alert. He seemed like Bell.

  “Come on,” Mattie hissed, yanking him by his shirtsleeve to the edge of the stage. He stumbled after her, and they pushed back through the crowd, whose curious eyes followed them. Behind them Mattie heard Master Morogh call, “We have time for one more volunteer! Who will it be?”

  She pulled Bell back to their wagon. It was time for her to do her act.

  “Are you all right?” she asked him.

  He nodded. Mattie could see the same bewilderment in his face that had been in the hypnotized woman’s and the fraternity guy’s.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she scolded, relieved. “Go find Da and stay with him. Keep away from Master Morogh!”

  Bell nodded again, and Mattie ducked into the wagon, where Maya was waiting, exasperated as usual, with Mattie’s first customer. She was an elderly woman with a pink scalp showing through her gray curls and a nice smile. Mattie could tell, just looking at her, that her mind was full of grandchildren, and she sighed. Boring.

  The next day, Saturday, was going to be the biggest, according to Dee. “Saturday night’s when everyone wants to have a good time,” she said at breakfast. Mattie knew it was true. It was always the most crowded night for fairs, too. Everyone was excited. Even Ahmad seemed a little twitchy.

  At last it was time for the Come-In. The crowds streamed in, stopping to buy their cotton candy and hot dogs, pausing at Master Morogh’s stand to watch volunteers get hypnotized, laughing at the clowns as they roamed through, tumbling and fighting and pratfalling. A big audience gathered for Da’s act, and Mattie watched from the back as everyone oohed and aahed when he materialized a castle and the Mona Lisa and a Moroccan casbah that some couple had visited on their honeymoon.

  Then Bell stood on the stage and began to recite. He’d been pale and quiet all day, and Maya had wondered if he might be coming down with something. He didn’t have a fever, though, so he had to go on—Maya’s rule. This time he chose his favorite poem, “Jabberwocky.” He liked it because it didn’t make any sense.

  “’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

  All mimsy were the borogoves,

  And the mome rath—”

  He stopped at the usual point where he disappeared. But he was still visible. Mattie stared at her brother, bewildered. What was going on?

  The audience, unsure of what was supposed to happen, began to murmur, and Bell started over, louder and a little frantic.

  “All mimsy were the borogoves,

  And the mome rath—”

  He stopped again, but he didn’t disappear. He stayed right there.

  Da took over fast as Bell stumbled down the stairs. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he called, running onto the stage. “I’ll take suggestions from the audience. What do you want to see?”

  The audience shifted and muttered, but they liked this idea, so they forgave Bell his failure. “A lion!” one little boy called.

  “A comet!” shouted a man.

  Da moved his arms and a lion appeared, snarling, its teeth long and lifelike. A lady gave a little shriek, and the audience was Da’s.

  Mattie raced into the wagon. Bell was there with Maya. Tibby stood next to them, her bicolored eyes wide.

  “What happened?” Mattie demanded. “Why didn’t you disappear?”

  Bell’s face was white with shock, his freckles standing out almost black. “I couldn’t,” he managed. “I just couldn’t. It wasn’t there.” His shoulders shook as he started to cry, and his tears set off Tibby, who always cried when anyone else did.

  “What wasn’t there?”

  “My—my disappearing. It wasn’t there!”

  Maya looked bewildered. “What do you mean?” she asked Bell.

  Bell wiped his nose with his hand. “I don’t know,” he said, snuffling. “You know how you sort of … I don’t know. You reach inside? And then you can do it?”

  Mattie nodded. That was as good an explanation as any for what happened when she read people.

  “I reached, and there wasn’t anything. It was just gone.”

  “How can that be?” Maya whispered.

  Mattie touched Bell’s arm. Immediately she was bombarded by his feelings. The fear, anxiety, and terrible confusion almost made her dizzy. She stared at him.

  “I can read you,” she said.

  His mouth dropped open. “Why? What does that mean?”

  “I … I’m not sure,” she admitted. “You’re still my brother. I shouldn’t be able to read you!”

  “No, that is not how it works,” Maya told her. “It is not whether you are related. It is whether you have a talent. If you can read him, it means—it means he no longer has his talent.”

  She put a
hand on Bell’s head, and drew in a deep breath as she read his future in the touch. Bell pulled away.

  The wagon door crashed open, and Da ran in.

  “What on earth … ?” he cried. “Bell, what’s going on?” Bell started to speak, but Da held up a hand. “Wait, don’t tell me. We dinna have time. There’s a line outside for you two—Maya, Mattie. You have customers. We’ll talk afterward. Why is Tibby crying?” He reached down and scooped up Tibby, who had curled up on the floor next to Bell and was now sobbing inconsolably.

  “Come on, wee one,” he said to her. “You and Bell and me, we’ll go talk to the elephant. Wipe away those tears, bairn.” They were out the door in a minute, leaving Mattie and Maya speechless.

  Maya recovered fast. “You must dress,” she said to Mattie. “Go in the back and change. I will take the first one.”

  Mattie was full of dread as she shucked off her jeans and tee and got into her mind-reading outfit. She tried to think what Bell must be feeling, without his talent. She’d spent so long wishing she didn’t have hers, but actually not to have it … she couldn’t imagine.

  She listened as Maya read a man who had started a company that made some sort of fishing equipment.

  “You will do well,” she said. Her voice didn’t betray anything. It was her usual low, musical tone, perfect for fortune-telling. “You will make more than enough for the mortgage. Just be sure your contracts are good. Payment in advance.”

  “But my first order is from my brother-in-law,” the man protested. “I can’t make him pay in advance.”

  “Payment in advance,” Maya insisted. Mattie heard the man sigh, heard his chair scrape as he got up.

  Mattie did her readings in a kind of daze, longing to go to Bell to hear what had happened. By the time she was done, she had nearly convinced herself that his condition was just temporary, and she ran out of the wagon toward the big top when the calliope started up. Maya wasn’t far behind.

  They found the others sitting in the straw; the house was full again. The ballyhoo lights swept across the audience, over and over, as people made their way into their seats, and the calliope music was deafening. The crowd’s excited faces made Bell’s expression seem even more dejected. Mattie’s heart sank.

  “It’s not back?” she asked, sinking down beside him. She almost had to shout to make herself heard over the music.

  “I keep trying, but nothing happens,” he said glumly. “I feel like I lost an arm or something. It’s so weird. I didn’t know how … how important it was.”

  He lowered his head to his bent knees, and Mattie took his hand, feeling all his sadness and despair. “Then we’ll get it back,” she said firmly.

  Bell looked up, his eyes alight with hope. “How?”

  Mattie didn’t have the slightest idea. She just wanted Bell to feel better. Her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with an idea—anything at all. But her mind was blank.

  At that moment the spotlight focused on the center of the ring, creating a luminous circle. It wavered and strengthened and then, without warning, Master Morogh appeared in the middle of it. The audience gasped in amazement, and Mattie gasped, too.

  All at once, she knew.

  The ringmaster, singing at the bonfire with that high, pure voice, just like Julietta. Walking with an elegant dancer’s posture, just like Selena. And now this. Master Morogh hadn’t been there, and then suddenly he was. Appearing out of nowhere, just like Bell.

  Somehow, Master Morogh had stolen their special skills—Julietta’s singing, Selena’s grace, Bell’s disappearing.

  He had taken all their talents for himself.

  CHAPTER 9

  After the performance, Mattie ran out of the big top before the others were on their feet. She waited, twitching with impatience, until she saw the Bellamys coming from behind the tent.

  “Maso!” she cried. One of the Bellamys turned his head.

  “Hey there, Mattie,” he said. “Did you see us? We nailed that pyramid tonight. No wobbles at all!”

  “Maso, listen. You said something the other day—something about how nothing in the circus is real. Remember?”

  “Sure,” Maso said, his forehead creasing in puzzlement.

  “What did you mean, exactly? What isn’t real?”

  “Well, it’s a circus. All illusion, right?”

  “But is there something specific? Something about—about Master Morogh?”

  The Bellamys exchanged looks.

  “There’ve been some things …,” Maso said. He lowered his voice. “A few strange things.”

  “Like what?”

  “There were the other tumblers.” This was another Bellamy.

  “What happened to them?”

  “They just couldn’t hit their marks anymore. One of them got hurt, bad. She broke her neck.”

  “Did she die?” Mattie asked, horrified.

  “No, but she was in the hospital a long time,” the Bellamy replied. “I heard she walked again, but she couldn’t tumble, of course. It was pretty awful.”

  “Were you here when they were?”

  “Nope, we came when they left. Can’t have two tumbling acts in a circus—that would be war!”

  “It was a terrible accident,” another Bellamy said.

  “If it was an accident,” Maso said darkly.

  “What do you mean?” Mattie asked.

  “Oh, there’s all sorts of rumors in this place. You know how it is. People say there was jealousy, or backstabbing. That someone made it happen. But that’s ridiculous, right?” Maso grinned at her, but his eyes weren’t smiling.

  Mattie didn’t know what to make of this. “Were there any others? Other … accidents?”

  “There was the old ringmaster,” a Bellamy said. “We were there for that one. Morogh was just the hypnotist back then. Nothing special. He did okay at the hypnotism, but not much else. The ringmaster, though—Master Minka—he was a big, big guy. Big voice. Big presence. He could make everyone take notice, I’ll tell you. But then, one day … he couldn’t.”

  “Couldn’t what?” Mattie asked.

  “Couldn’t do his job. When he opened his mouth, it was just ordinary. No charisma, you know what I mean? We thought he was sick, so Morogh took his place. And Morogh was great at it, just like Minka had been. He had the audience in the palm of his hand.”

  Mattie closed her eyes for a minute. It all fit. She didn’t know how he’d done it, but she knew for sure it was all Morogh’s doing.

  “Thanks,” she said. “See you later, Bellamys.”

  “Mattie—,” Maso started.

  “Later,” Mattie said. “I have to go!”

  “See you later,” the Bellamys echoed, and Maso added, “Be careful, Mattie!” The worry in his voice was unnerving.

  Mattie ran as fast as she could through the crowds heading back to the parking lot. At the Marvelwoods’ wagon, she leaped up the stairs and into the little room, where her family sat around their low table, talking quietly and trying to soothe Bell, who was huddled in misery.

  “Da, Maya,” she said, trying to catch her breath as they all stared up at her. “I have something to tell you.”

  “Where have you been, Mattie?” Maya demanded. “The last thing we need is to worry about you, too.”

  “Listen to me!” Mattie cried. “I know what happened to Bell. It sounds crazy, but it’s true. I know it.”

  Bell looked up, suddenly alert.

  “What is it, child?” Da asked, his voice calm.

  Mattie took a deep breath. “Master Morogh has been stealing things from people. Their skills. Their talents.”

  It sounded so strange, so absolutely ridiculous that Mattie knew her parents wouldn’t believe her. But as she explained what she’d figured out, described the sword-swallower and Julietta, Selena and the old ringmaster and the poor broken tumbler, they didn’t challenge her at all. Instead, they looked at each other and nodded.

  “I had no idea there were ones like him aroun
d,” Da said at last. “I didn’t sense it at all.”

  “What do you mean, ‘ones like him’?” Mattie demanded.

  Tibby was following this conversation closely, her bright eyes moving from speaker to speaker. Da glanced at her, and Mattie reached over and pulled out some blocks from beneath the little table where she and Maya did their acts.

  “Can you build me a tower, Tibs? Can you put nine blocks up without them falling over?” It wouldn’t do to have Tibby asking questions that couldn’t be answered, or repeating statements that couldn’t be explained.

  “I can!” Tibby said proudly, and grabbed the blocks, immediately starting to pile them. At four, the tower fell, and she started again.

  Da and Maya exchanged another look, and Da said, “Some of the Travellers are … well, they aren’t good people. They’ve always been around. Mostly that type is in Britain, though, not here.”

  “There are some in India as well,” Maya said. “I have heard tales …”

  Da put a gentle hand on Bell’s shoulder. “There’s a branch of Travellers that are said to want what others have. They’re an envious bunch. Some have no talent of their own, but I’ve heard tell that they’ve a way to steal them from ones like us. I’ve never known any of them, though. I wasn’t even sure they truly existed.”

  “You think Master Morogh’s one of those?” Mattie’s eyes were wide.

  Bell brought his fist down on the table, hard enough to make Mattie jump and Tibby turn briefly from her blocks. “That’s what Master Morogh did to me,” he said. “He hypnotized me. After that I felt … different. But I didn’t know why. He stole my talent. He said, ‘Give it to me.’ And I did. I couldn’t help it.”

  Maya covered her mouth in shock.

  “We should go,” Da said. “We should get out of here, before he does worse.”

  “Go?” Mattie said. “And leave Bell like this? We can’t do that!” And Selena, she thought. Selena, who’d never be able to do her somersault again, who could get badly hurt, even killed, trying.

  “There’s nothing we can do now,” Da told her. “He knows who we are. We are all in danger.”