Page 3 of Carnival of Crows

“I do not,” I shot back without hesitation.

He tilted his head.

“You can’t even see yourself right now,” he said with a slight shake of his head.

Daniele, our event photographer, snorted while adjusting the camera hanging around her neck.

“Just so you know,” she started. “This is the face you’re making.”

She mimicked my expression and Luca nearly doubled over laughing.

“I hate both of you,” I said with an eye roll.

“We know,” they answered in unison.

A loud human growl echoed from outside.

Jack.

I didn’t even have to look. Sure enough, my youngest brother lumbered through the tent wearing an enormous carved pumpkin head.

It had glowing amber eyes and a crooked grin that was slightly menacing. Twisted green vines wrapped around the shoulders of his tattered suit. On arrival, he spread both arms dramatically.

“The Jack-O’-Lantern has arrived.”

Luca groaned at our baby brother’s theatrics. I, on the other hand, loved it. His energy was contagious. And, endless. His acting would only stop once the very last guest had left for the night.

“For the love of God,” Luca grumbled.

Jack and I ignored him.

“Do you know why they call me the Jack-O’-Lantern?” Jack continued.

This bit had been longstanding. Pretty much since day one when he decided that he needed to be some variant of a jack-o’-lantern.

“This sounds like a conversation you should save for your therapist,” Luca offered.

Jack pointed triumphantly. “Because my name is Jack.”

Silence filled the tent.

“I’m quite literally the Jack…” He pointed at himself. “O’Lantern.”

He paused for a beat and looked around, making sure all eyes were on him.

Luca buried his face in Daniele’s shoulder. “I can’t do another season of this.”

“It’s been five years, little cuz,” Cassie called from across the tent. “The joke isn’t getting any better.”

Jack wandered away completely unbothered.

“Whatever.” He scoffed jokingly. “Haters.”

Before Jack could launch into another pumpkin-related pun, the music softened.

The front flap of the tent opened. Our first guests of the night, the VIP ticket holders, were about to enter the big top. The line trickled in slowly, each guest receiving a thick cardstock ticket embossed with the Graves crest.

One ticket equaled one fortune.