Carnival Charlatan

by Skeeter Enright

  Sure, we Carnies make our money selling a fantasy, but that is a lot different from flat out cheating people. Cheating in the casino just isn’t right. Grammy warned me against taking the easy path. She was a wise old gal. I can hear her now—the first bad step is hard, the next ones become easier to justify. Eventually, you were hooked just like a junkie. Grammy’s warnings aside, there is a little magical rule about what happens if you do something knowingly wrong with magic. It is kind of like bad karma on steroids—nasty with compounded interest. All right, no casinos unless I’m desperate.

  Sam the Sham followed me out to the midway to see what I did for a living. Sam had charmed everyone on the lot, but I still wasn’t sure about him. He seemed awfully naive for a being who had been around for over 100 years. His father had sent him to the Water Fae as a spy, so he must be sneaky. Fairies in general were tricky. A fairy spy must be especially devious. Maybe he was spying on me? I needed to find out more about him before I got too comfortable.

  My first day back went well. I had a couple hundred in my pocket in the first two hours. Marks were standing in line for palm readings. I didn’t usually do this well, even when I had my tent running. It didn’t hurt to have an otherworldly beautiful man at my shoulder, but my customers were not just women and gay guys. My spiel hadn’t gotten that much better. Something was up.

  I thought about touching some of the customers psychically to see if there was any subtle magic around. I don’t generally like to examine people that way. If normal people knew what I really could do, I’d end up in a lab among cold-eyed people in white coats. I’d spend the rest of my life in some dark government building with poorly placed plumbing. I decided not to worry about it. I was going to appreciate my luck and let the cash keep flowing. I sure needed the money. Before I could save for the winter, I owed Janie a couple hundred for the gas she spent bringing my rig here.

  By eight o’clock, I was getting a little wobbly. Sam and I went back to my trailer to get something to eat. We sat outside on lawn chairs. The music and lights from the midway made a familiar backdrop. Ham sandwiches, with lots of mustard and sweet pickles, washed down by beer went a long way toward revitalizing me. Sam seemed to perk up, too. The air temperature felt perfect. No clouds blocked the million stars that fought for attention in the sky. Bats flitted around grabbing bugs. Sam watched them with his head cocked.

  ”Can you hear the bats?” I asked.

  “Of course. Can’t you?”

  “Sam, were you doing something to draw customers to me tonight?”

  His smile was as beautiful as his eyes. “Yes.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Of course I can. It’s easy, just a minor summoning. It causes no harm.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I know you are worried about having enough money this winter. You talked about it last night. I want to help you. This is an easy way to help. Soon, I will understand human money. I’ll be able to make some for you and my new friends.”

  I sighed deeply. “Brother, have you lived with humans very often in your life?”

  He shook his head. “I have been in this world five times, but this is the first I have lived among humans.” He leaned in and hugged me, kissing my cheek. He smelled like pickles. “Thank you for showing me this wonderful place.”

  I wanted to pump him for information about his trips to this world, but I had to nip his random magic in the butt. He could do something dangerous…like making money. All we needed was the Feds coming down on the carnival for counterfeiting.

  How could I make him understand he had to live under human rules while he was in this world? I have no idea what is immoral for a fairy. Magic probably was his method for getting what he wanted his whole life. Sam had no context for surviving in this world, for living with humans. He was used to beings who were essentially immune to magic.

  I said, “Sam, I’m worried. Your magic is powerful, and humans are more fragile than you can imagine. You can do people harm that’s not obvious. You can bend their minds. Some minds may break. Please ask me before you do any more magic while you are in this world.”

  Sam looked alarmed. Faster than the eye could see, he was leaning over me. He held my face between his hands and looked deep into my eyes. I flinched automatically, the instinct not to look into anyone’s eyes ingrained in a witch like me. It took a second to realize I didn’t risk anything gazing into Sam’s eyes. He wasn’t human. I relaxed, and then started to wonder what he was seeing in me.

  He let my face go and hugged me. “Thank the Old Gods. I didn’t harm you. I would never forgive myself. Our father would be angry if I hurt you.” He backed away and knelt at my feet in front of the lawn chair I sat on. Tears ran down his face.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “When did you use magic on me?”

  “When we brought Amanda to King Mechtán, I realized the Air Fae they had sent the demons to destroy was you. I was relieved you survived. Had I known sooner, I would have helped. When you defeated the demons, I knew you were powerful. I thought you might try to rescue your friend. I sent the spell to protect you, to make you afraid to come to the Outlands where you could be harmed.”

  “You son-of-a-bitch. You were in on Amanda’s kidnapping.” I shoved him, and he fell over on his back, tangled in his chair. “You put the panic spell on me.” I jumped up, thought about kicking him, changed my mind, and reached down to yank out a clump of his hair instead. I stormed into my trailer, slamming the door with a satisfying bang. I shouted, “Son-of-a-bitch,” again. I tossed the clump of hair on the counter. Poor, half-naked Zach squawked and jumped around in his cage. “Calm down, Zach. I’m not mad at you,” I said in a quieter tone. Then, I turned and yelled out the window, “I’m mad at the fucking Fairy who puts spells on his own sister!”

  “But…I wanted…” came a plaintive voice from the dark.

  “I don’t care. Get out of my sight right now, or I’ll show you a spell.”

  It is hard to slam a window that rolls shut, but I did my best.

  The wards on my trailer had run down. Stomping around the room, slamming doors and drawers, I started the spell to protect my home. I made a paste of salt, iron dust, and water. I painted it around the outer wall of my trailer. Using the concoction, I wrote symbols next to the door and windows. Finally, I muttered words to activate the newly established wards. The solution flared iridescent green for a moment then settled to a barely visible dampness. I felt better with the wards protecting my space, but still, I was irritated.

  In the bathroom, I threw my clothes on the floor and drop-kicked them behind the commode. A hot shower did not improve my mood. Cleansed, but still full of righteous wrath and adrenaline, I pulled on my Tweety Bird robe. It felt great against my skin, but it wasn’t enough.

  I found a genealogy spell in my most reliable grimoire. It was complicated, but with it, Sam’s hair was going to give me the answer I needed. The materials were easy to find in my stores. It took three pinches of pepper to get the sneeze the spell required. My nose ran for two hours, but it was worth it. After two tries, I got the spell right. Just before dawn, I had my answer.

  The conniving son-of-a-bitch was my brother. We shared a father. Shit! Mom, you slut!

  I curled up on my bed, sucking on maple sugar candy. I put the last of my energy into activating the protection of the summoning circle surrounding my mattress. I was as immune to the ministrations of preternatural creatures as I could get. I slept the sleep of the totally exhausted.

  * * * *

  When I woke, I was still exhausted. I hate it when that happens, especially when I have a lot to do. I spent the morning making charms for my friends on the carnival lot. I designed the charms to protect them from magic. The foundation of each charm was a steel smiley face disk. I glued part of a walnut shell to the surface. It represented the enemy’s brain. Symbolism is important in any charm or spell. You ever notice how walnut meats look like little, flat brains? Magic, especially fairy magic, comes from
the mind. The hollow side of the walnut shell faced out to rebound any magic back on the sender.

  It was early evening before I was finished. It was the type of lovely late summer dusk, only found in the Midwest. The air was crisp. The low sun, slanting through cotton ball clouds, seemed to filter all colors through an amber lens. I couldn’t bring myself to face anyone yet, so I took a walk in the park at the edge of the fairgrounds. The leaves stirred and winked in the trees, throwing speckled spotlights on the ground.

  I lay down on a bench and watched the starlings flocking in the field next to the park. They grouped and turned, split and whirled in a choreographed cloud. I let my eyes glaze and saw three glowing figures flash at the edge of the flock as it turned. I smiled. Pixies were herding the birds.

  I dozed a bit. When I opened my eyes, the little pink-gowned sylph Zach and I had saved from Mechtán hovered about a foot in front of my face. She was less than six inches tall. There was an indelible smile on her delicate features. Tiny wings were a blur. The wind from her wings caused her hair to make a blonde halo around her. I had never heard of a pixie approaching anyone like this. She knew I was awake.

  Moving only my lips, I said, “I’m glad you are safe.”

  She jiggled up and down a bit. Her voice was like the ringing of crystal bells, as she said, “I and my kin are in your debt, Ariel, Mage of the Land. We are at your service. You need only call my name, Andieriallas, and I will come.”

  It was a big thing for a Fae to give their name. It showed a huge amount of trust. Names have power. The person who knew the complete name of another being could totally control them. My mom and grandmother were the only ones who knew my whole name. At least I hope they were the only ones.

  “My friend and I were glad we could be of service to you and your kin. How did you find me?” I asked.

  “Our King, your father, showed us the way to you. He told us of your bravery. We shall sing your song for a thousand years to come.”

  Now how the hell did my father know what I had done? The ramifications of this new Dad thing were something to ponder. Someone must have been telling tales. I was upset, but I wasn’t going to take it out on Tinkerbelle, so I said gently, “I was honored to help. I am equally as honored to hold your name. Do me a favor, though. Ask your friends not to sing my song where King Mechtán can hear it, okay?”

  She gave a sparkling giggle and jittered up and down in assent. Four other pixies appeared around her. One was the size of a sparrow dressed in armor made of old-fashioned tabs from soda cans. The others, Andieriallas’s size or a little larger, were dressed in what looked like an assortment of doll clothes. They all made floating, formal bows in mid-air, their little arms crossed across their chests. Then, they disappeared, leaving a fine glitter of glowing dust that dissipated before it hit the ground.

  Sam, the rat bastard, must have told our dad about my adventures with the Water Fae. I had wanted to stay under dear old Dad’s radar. Was Sam’s report a ploy or just his job? I didn’t see any way it could be a good thing, but only time would tell.

  I needed to talk to someone who had more experience with Fairies than I did. There was only so much I could learn from books. My aunt Lila was the one person I knew who might have first hand experience with the Fae. Grammy told me Lila and Mom had done a lot of wilding in the Outlands when they were young. I would have to get a hold of her as soon as I could.

  I still felt like crap, but I got ready for work. One look in the mirror showed me I didn’t need much makeup to look the part of a Gypsy crone. As I wandered the midway, I distributed the charms to my friends. I didn’t see Sam, which was just as well.

  Doc kissed my cheek as I put the charm over his neck.

  He said, “Let me check your cut. I forgot to this morning.”

  I hiked up my skirt and its petticoats to show my stitches. I stood on one leg while Doc held my calf. I arched my back and bowed my arms, leaning back in a dancer’s arch. The Rubes waiting to get on the Ferris wheel whooped and whistled. I straightened, gave Doc a big hug, and shook my meager assets to acknowledge their attention.

  “It’s a bit infected. I’ll get you some antibiotics. Soak it in some warm Epsom salts tonight,” Doc said, ignoring the peanut gallery.

  “Yes, Sir.” I saluted him and continued on my rounds with a warm glow in my worn little heart.

  Most people didn’t even ask about the charm as I slipped it over their heads. My reputation preceded me. After the rampaging demon incident, they must figure I had a good reason for any odd thing I might ask them to do.

  Big Mike leaned down for me to put the charm around his neck. He kissed me on the forehead briefly, gently, and then stood back up. He blushed crimson under his perpetual layer of grease. “I’ll wear it forever.”

  “You won’t need to wear it all that long. It’s just a charm. I want my friends protected.” He looked down and stubbed his toe in the dirt. “I best be going. Mister D needs me to check the hydraulics on the Dumbo Drop.” He started off, toward the kiddy rides. He stopped and turned halfway back toward me. “Ariel, I’m glad you’re my friend.” He turned abruptly and hurried off.

  I teared up a little. Mike was such a good guy. My emotions were so close to the surface lately. I wiped my eyes quickly.

  Amanda sat on a tall chair outside the tent Tom used for his sword swallowing show. It was an hour until the next performance. She still looked shaky but had more color and seemed to be putting on a bit of weight. She assured me she was doing better and reiterated her determination to stay out of the Outlands.

  “Airy, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around what happened. Tom told me some of the things you did. Honey, I’ve known you since you were a little girl, and I never would have thought you could…well…you know.” She trailed off, her eyes traveling to the middle distance. She shook herself like a dog does, and her eyes refocused. “Tom and I decided to pretend the whole adventure was just a bad dream.”

  I smiled and patted her hand. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” I didn’t blame her for trying to forget. “Whatever keeps you sane.” I wished I could forget those Trows. I knew that gnang gnang noise they made would haunt my nightmares for years to come.

  When I explained the charm, Amanda hugged me and said, “I don’t think Sam would hurt any of us. He has been working real hard to fit in.”

  “I know, but he’s not a person. He’s dodgy, because he doesn’t know what he shouldn’t do. You of all people should understand how tricky fairies can be,” I said, wanting to shake her.

  She promised she and Tom would wear the charms.

  Myra was running the duck grab when I caught up with her. “You ought to give Sam a break. He just—” she said.

  My look stopped her mid-sentence. “Promise me you’ll wear this day and night,” I said, handing her the charm. “Especially if you decide to sleep with the Fae.” Sam’s true origin had come out the night of the party.

  “But…” she started.

  “No buts.” My tone shut her down. “You have no idea the shit storm that might surround my brother at any minute.”

  I didn’t want to tell anyone at the carnival that Sam was one of Amanda’s kidnappers. If anyone found out…well, Carney retribution wasn’t gentle. What concerned me was Sam would protect himself. I was worried about my friends. Normal humans wouldn’t be able to hurt him, but he could wreak havoc with a single thought. “Myra, Sam isn’t as sweet as he seems. He’s dangerous. I don’t think he would go out of his way to hurt anyone on the lot, but he’s like a retarded giant. He could hurt you without even noticing. Wear the damned charm.”

  Myra had tears in her eyes when I left. I sure hope she used protection when she “got to know” my brother.

  Mister D gave me a significant look as he slipped the charm around his neck.

  “It’s just a precaution, boss,” I said.

  He nodded, pursing his lips and rubbing a finger behind his ear. A gesture of consternation I had seen him m
ake since I was a child.

  “Really,” I said. “It’s just until I check some things out.”

  “You going up to Skokie with Skinny Phil tomorrow?” He raised one eyebrow questioningly.

  I had forgotten it was Sunday. We were going to tear down tomorrow and move to our next gig to be ready to open Tuesday. I usually went with Phil and put up magical protection wards around the lot while he staked out the locations for all the stands and rides.

  “Yeah, of course I’ll go.”

  “Sam’s going along, too.”

  I took a breath to protest, then realized he hadn’t really asked. Was everybody besotted with my asshole brother? He even had Mister D on his side. I should refuse to go, just to make a point, but I just shrugged and said, “Sure.” It was probably a good idea to keep an eye on Sam anyway…the son-of-a-bitch.

  As I wandered the midway, I read a few palms and sold a couple of love potions. I had enough cash to pay Janie back for all the gas she bought bringing my rig along while I was gone. All my friends had protection against magical threats. In all, it had been a good night. As the crowds started to thin, I finished the night talking with Janie at the ring toss.

  “Sam seems a good sort of fella,” Janie said. “He is just a little green. He’ll catch on pretty quick. I don’t think there is any harm in him.”

  “I don’t know, Janie,” I mused. “I’m afraid he might be like some rich guy who causes a mess just because he wants something. He doesn’t notice who suffers as long as he gets what he wants.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Craig stood up from his cheap Formica desk. He locked his computer and stretched the ache out of his shoulders. He decided to run up and down the stairs a couple of times to get his blood flowing. Lately, he had been living on caffeine and takeout food. He could feel the effects on his body. He was getting sluggish. Brain rot set in when he was at his desk too long.