by Leanne Leeds
“As pets?” Fiona asked.
“As game to be hunted,” Mark told her with a frown. “They capture the animals and let them loose in confined areas, then they shoot them from hiding places. The hunters are cowards.”
Okay, time to change the subject.
“Is this your first time in this area, Serena?” I asked.
“Yes. I don’t tend to venture far into the humans’ area. It is their territory and not our own. Mark, however, wishes to share with me some of his human memories, and so this time I will go. This time.”
Mark smiled faintly.
Mark may technically be the leader of the lion pride now, but I got the distinct feeling that Selena had no small say in the running of it.
“My sister will take care of the two who work to redeem themselves,” she added. “Clearly, it is not done yet. Why are you still here, ringmaster, and not at the house of your parents?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I was just taking in the air, chatting with Fiona.”
“I would suggest that you go over to the house quickly,” Serena told me, sniffing the air. “I am catching the scent of a female, and the scent contains shades of impatience and annoyance.”
There wasn’t anything creepy about that at all.
“She’s right, Charlotte, you should go,” Fiona agreed. “I’m going to go find Gunther and get to work on some of the research for the Witches' Council meeting. Ningul has some maintenance to do on the big top.”
“Tell my impatient brother I’ll come by later,” Uncle Phil said as he blazed by us. “I have a little bit of work to get finished before I can relax.”
Before I could respond, my uncle was halfway down the main midway path.
“Going to tell your parents about you and Gunther?” Fiona asked as Mark and Serena turned to go.
“I haven’t really had the time to talk to them about a lot of what’s going on, so I’ll catch them up on everything and see if they have any ideas that we haven’t thought of. Including that.”
“Good luck with that,” Fiona said as she rolled her eyes.
I suspected luck wasn’t going to have anything to do with the conversation I was about to have with my parents. If worse came to worse, I could always rubber band back to the Magical Midway from my kitchen. And then move the Magical Midway. To somewhere in Siberia.
Sighing, I made my way toward the house.
“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” my mother said slowly. “You have a huntress witch and a norn and the son of the only other ringmaster living in your tent?”
“Well, yurt. And I made some changes to it, so it’s at least as big as this house, if not bigger. But yes.”
“What does your uncle have to say about all of this?” Dad asked me.
They had taken the whole story better than I thought they would, though I left out the part about Gunther and I dating. They were speaking so carefully, and so slowly, and so deliberately, I suspected no one was yelling at me yet because they were still getting over the shock.
“He’s been helpful with some information, but this whole thing honestly seems like a great big puzzle that just came to the forefront when I showed up. Gunther and the Makepeace Circus seemed to have some things that they’ve been told that I didn’t know, but it was just a story.”
“That’s more than a story,” my father said.
“I haven’t put it all together yet. I’m told things that Gunther was unaware of. I think Devana knows things and she’s not telling anybody, and the same thing with Ms. Elkins.”
“And Devana is…”
“The huntress witch,” I told my mom. “Ms. Elkins is the norn.”
“Is that a Norn with a capital n or a norn with a lowercase n?”
“Is there a difference?”
“A rather large one,” Mom said as she glanced at my father. “There are rumored to be three Norns that hold some sway over the past, present, and future of man. Obviously, these are mythical beings. You can find quite a bit of information about them in Norse mythology.”
“But we don’t know if they exist,” Dad pointed out. “It’s another one of those stories of superpowerful godlike beings that we just don’t know the truth of in these modern times. Did they exist? Do they exist now? We don’t know.”
“Norns with a lowercase n are not very common, but we do know they exist. There have been historical records of more than three of them. They also originated from the same general area. They are magical practitioners, though of what specific kind we don’t know. Their goals are related to fate and destiny, which is the preoccupation of the Norns with a capital N,” Mom explained.
“The three Norns are said to be female and divine. Their myth is that they have more influence over the course of man’s destiny than any other beings in the cosmos. Influence, mind you, but not control.”
“Is that true?” I asked Dad.
“Like many things in the paranormal world, Charlie, unless you see it for yourself there’s no way to know with any certainty,” he said.
“Well, I don’t know if she’s capitalized or lowercase. I just know that I’ve seen Ms. Elkins be able to pierce through magic as if spells don’t affect her. I did a spirit walk to the Makepeace Circus, and the old woman looked right at me.”
“Regardless of capitalization, Charlotte, both of the creatures you’ve allowed into your home serve an agenda that you may not be aware of. Powerful creatures, at that.”
“I understand that, Mom. That’s kind of why I did it. I don’t know what I don’t know, but I at least realize I don’t know it. And I’d rather have them closer. I at least have some chance to figure out what’s going on when they are readily available.”
“I’m not sure that’s comforting to me,” Mom told me, crossing her arms. “The forces that have gathered around you are quite powerful, Charlotte. More powerful than you may realize.”
“I thought I was the most powerful witch in the world? Okay, one of two, anyway.”
“When destiny and fate awaken, all the power in the world can’t stand against it, Charlie,” Dad said as he gazed out the window toward the animal shelter kennels. “Your elevation has somehow awakened fate, it seems. In the face of destiny, the most powerful of witches in history have had trouble swimming against the tide.”
“You’re starting to sound like a seer, Alan,” Mom chided Dad as she poked him in the shoulder. “That’s not like you at all.”
“The dogs are… anxious. I think it’s making me a little anxious as well.”
I felt a wave of calm roll out gently from my mother, but my father held his hand up and shook his head. “Please, Martha, not today. I appreciate it, but I’d like to stay connected to them and make sure this doesn’t get any worse.”
The wave gently receded.
“Well, I did just drop a circus next to the animal shelter,” I told him. “I imagine they can smell some of the predator shifters and it’s probably making them a little nervous.”
“Maybe that’s it,” Dad said, sounding unconvinced.
I took a deep breath as I readied myself to explain that Gunther and I were now together romantically. That discussion, which my parents would not be happy about due to the fact that Gunther and I were from different circuses, would inevitably lead into the prophecy Gunther was told. The one about he and I marrying. None of these tidbits were things I was looking forward to telling my parents.
My parents who previously emphatically warned me not to get involved romantically with Gunther.
Just as I was about to speak, sharp barks came from the kennel area and then stopped. The color drained from my father’s face, and he held up his hand to silence us.
We froze, listening.
Then a cacophony of angry barking rose all at once. There was desperation, anger, and frustration to the snarls and howls that I had never heard echo through the hallways of our shelter before.
Dad jumped up from the table, knocking his chair over, and raced out the doo
r. My mother and I took one look at each other and chased out after him.
Wayland Black, a cyclops from the Makepeace Circus, had once called me a heat merchant. It was a carnie phrase that denoted someone who attracted trouble over and over and over again.
We hadn’t even been here for two hours, and already something was desperately wrong. I could feel it.
I just didn’t know what it was going to take for me to stop it from happening everywhere I go.
Tiffany Drake lay on the concrete floor at the back of the dog kennels. I didn’t know the girl, had never seen her before, but her name echoed like a scream from my father’s mind.
The pool of blood beneath her head was still wet, and her hands still wrapped around the broom she apparently used to try and defend herself.
“No,” my father whispered, leaning down to feel for a pulse. It was a futile gesture. I could feel and sense nothing from the college-age girl still as death on the floor, her blond hair wet with red on the right side of her face.
“Who would do such a thing?” my father whispered.
“Dad, who is she?”
“A troubled girl,” my mother answered. “She was arrested with two other members of her sorority for animal cruelty. They played a prank against another sorority, kidnapped the sorority house’s dog and displayed him in… Oh, the particulars are not important. The poor dog suffered and died from their joke,” my mother said bitterly.
“She was serving her community service here,” Dad said. “The judge hoped by working here with the animals it would help her to understand the magnitude of what she did.”
“Alan, she’s a human,” my mother said to my father. “We’re going to have to call the local police.”
My father glanced at me with concern.
“They can’t, Alan,” Mom told him. “We had a delivery this morning, and the driver commented on the circus being there. In the past couple of hours, multiple people have driven by. The Magical Midway has already been noticed. If it disappears in three hours, it will just cause more suspicion. Even we can’t explain that.”
“Look, don’t worry about us, let’s worry about this poor dead girl,” I told my mother. “We are the least of your worries. I’m sure I can handle it.”
“I wish that were true, Charlotte,” Dad said. “At least we own the land that you’re sitting on in the human world, and we won’t have to explain that. But there’s no way to get around the fact that you, and your people, will be questioned about this.”
“Don’t you think we should worry about the dead girl before worrying about the circus?”
“The girl tortured a dog to death, Charlotte,” my mother told me pointedly. “I feel bad for anyone that loses their life in an unnecessary way, but this girl was relentlessly narcissistic. She’d been here a week, and even with my powers, I couldn’t engender any empathy in her that would stick. There is nothing we can do for her now.”
“We’re not trying to be unsympathetic, Charlie,” Dad agreed. “But the girl was quite a spoiled twit, and a cruel one at that.”
“I wouldn’t lead with those observations when you talk to the police.”
“No, probably not. I would suggest that you go back to the Magical Midway and alert your people as to what’s going on. Your Uncle has dealt with inquiries from the humans before, so find him as soon as you can. I’ll go back to the house and called the police.”
My mother and I turned to walk out. After a few steps, we realized that my father was not following us.
“Alan?”
“The dogs,” he said quietly staring down at Tiffany’s body. “They were angry, frustrated that they couldn’t defend her. Despite the fact that she treated them with nothing but disdain the entire week that she was here if they could’ve gotten out of the kennels they would’ve given their lives for hers. They would have saved her.”
My mother walked over to my father and put her arms around him. After a few moments, she gently steered him away from the body, and we all left the kennel.
Uncle Phil, we have a problem, I called out mentally as I stepped back onto the fairgrounds. A volunteer at my family shelter was just murdered. My dad wanted me to grab you because he said you’ve dealt with this before.
Does he want me to hide the body?
Are you kidding me? No! My parents are going to have to call the local police and they’re likely going to investigate. Dad said you had experience with this.
It would be far easier just to hide the body, Uncle Phil grumbled as I spotted him at the other end of the clearing and made my way to join him. Well, here’s something I hoped I would never have to teach you. Samson, are you listening?
I am, Samson said. I could feel the frustration and resentment bouncing through the air into my had from my guardian. I had hoped to never have to do this again.
“Do what?” I asked as I walked into my expansive yurt with Uncle Phil. Looking around, I didn’t see Samson in the common room.
I’m in your bedroom. Which is the only place I get any privacy anymore now that you invited your stupid boyfriend and his stupid kitten to live here, Samson said.
Uncle Phil and I walked to the far side of the common room and entered my semi-separate living area. At least my bedroom now had a door.
How long am I going to have to do this? Samson asked Uncle Phil.
“There is no way to know, Samson. I would think possibly a week, maybe even more. I don’t know anything about the police here, or how long an investigation would be likely to take,” Uncle Phil responded.
“What does he have to do?” I asked confused.
“Samson is going to have to implement an illusion designed to fool the humans,” Uncle Phil explained.
“Isn’t that what we do more or less all the time, though?”
“Not precisely. For example, the centaur village has never been seen by a human. It’s never been seen by a human wandering around the circus because the magic persuades humans not to go there. During an investigation, it’s highly unlikely that the magic will not arouse suspicion.”
Police officers and detectives are much more methodical when they are looking for clues, Samson explained. If “search the blue tent” is on a list they have of things to accomplish, the fact that no one searches the blue tent will eventually arouse suspicion.
“Detectives also tend to have a heightened intuition. On a daily basis, they look for clues and subtleties that normal people might dismiss,” Uncle Phil added. “Our risk of discovery is much higher if we are the subject of an investigation. So, we have a mode that we can go into that will present a tangible, touchable truth to the detectives without arousing any suspicion.”
However, I have to maintain that illusion. It takes an incredible amount of energy, and I’ll glow with it. Literally. That means I’ll need to stay out of sight the entire time.
“Why can’t we just change everything for the duration of the stay here?”
“We don’t have enough room to house everyone. Behind the illusion in a place that humans will be unable to cross, the living spaces and support for the paranormals will continue to be maintained. The police will simply have no access to it. Likewise, most paranormals will be unable to come out.”
“Okay, so how do we do this? The police are going to be here any minute.”
“First, you’ll need to broadcast to everyone at the Magical Midway. I hate using the broadcast system because of how impersonal it is, but in this case, the situation calls for it.”
Then, you let me know that you want me to put the illusion in place, Samson says. In this case, Charlotte, the magic is not yours. The magic is mine.
“What else can you do that I don’t know about?”
Is this really the conversation you want to have right now?
“No, no, you’re right,” I said. “Okay, let’s tell everyone what’s going on and then get this done. I want to get back up to the house, so I’m there when the police arrived.”
“Good
idea,” Uncle Phil said.
I proceeded to project my voice into the ear of everyone at the Magical Midway. I wished after the announcement I had brought my mother down here to project calm because as soon as I was done, it sounded like a thundering herd of cattle running to hide.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
Samson began to glow.
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