Page 146 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

Grievance turned toward the cauldrons, weighing the first little ceramic skull in his palm. He lined up his shot and threw. The first skull missed.

Milo laughed, as did the skull now chatting from the ground.

Grievance narrowed his eyes at the offending cauldron. He understood its game now. This time, when the second skull left his hand and the cauldron darted sharply to the right, Grievance anticipated it, and the skull dropped straight inside.

Milo whooped beside him.

Grievance grinned. He needed three points to win, and his first miss left him no choice but to aim for the hardest target. The third cauldron was worth two points, but it darted in frantic circles, almost too fast to follow.

The skull left Grievance’s hand just as the cauldron jerked away. But he’d anticipated the movement. The tiny skull struck the rim, bounced once—then dropped inside. A bell shrieked overhead.

Milo grabbed Grievance’s arm. “You did it!”

“Of course I did.”

The attendant asked which prize he wanted, and Grievance pointed immediately.

“The bear.”

A moment later, the ridiculous thing was placed into his hands. Grievance turned and shoved it straight into Milo’s arms.

Milo caught it with an oof.

For a moment, he only stared down at it. Then up at Grievance. The festival lights reflected in his green eyes, and his smile changed—losing the teasing edge until it became something warm and unbearably soft.

“For me?”

Grievance scoffed. “No. For Pip to murder tomorrow.”

Milo burst out laughing and hugged the bear tightly against his chest.

“I love it.”

Grievance looked at his mate standing beneath the lanterns, clutching an oversized skull-faced teddy bear like it was precious. He decided he liked carnival games after all.

The music, which until then had been a decidedly human mix of Michael Jackson, nearly every song from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and more renditions of the Scooby-Doo theme than Grievance thought strictly necessary, began to fade.

A new note rang out.

And everything changed.

The first note was low and strange, drawn from an instrument Grievance couldn’t name. Its sound conjured images of empty ribcages. Another joined it, then another, weaving into something eerie and cobweb-covered.

Something felt rather than heard.

The bones of every living and dead thing seemed to recognize it, humming in answer like tuning forks struck by an unseen hand.

Conversations quieted. People began moving toward the square. A fiddle joined the melody. Then drums. Then some kind of eerie, warbling brass instrument whose notes seemed to crawl pleasantly along his spine.

The song was strange. Creepy. Fast. Happy. Perfectly Pumpkin Hollow.

“Come on!” Milo caught his hand.

Grievance let himself be dragged into the square. Magic hummed beneath his boots, unfamiliar at first, then settling into a rhythm. A dancing spell. The next beat struck, and Grievance’s right foot moved on its own. Around them, hundreds moved with him.

Step.

Step.