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The old woman gestured to our surroundings as though I’d just asked her a stupid question. “Where are we, you ask? Why here, of course, where else could we be?”
“But where ishere?” I demanded as the proverbial floodgates in my mind suddenly pushed open and all the questions I’d been asking myself for months suddenly came piling out. “What kind of circus is this and why do the people we touch die? What do Laurent and Rex want from me? Why do I look so much like Brandeis Winston?” The questions gushed from my mouth like water rushing out from a burst pipe. I couldn’t stop them, even though I had no idea if the old woman had the answers—or if she even had any idea what I was talking about. There was just this strange undercurrent within me that insisted if anyone had the answers, she was the one.
She sighed and shook her head like an elderly mother showing disappointment with her daughter. “So many questions, yet you fail to ask the most crucial one.”
“Which is...?” I asked, taking a step closer to her.
Her right hand seized my left arm like a snake striking a mouse. Her strength felt every bit the equal of Rex’s grip as she lifted my arm up. But my shock was underestimated until I saw the ominous scythe sigil on the inside of my wrist. The sight of it sickened me. As I looked at it, it began to glow, almost as though it were reacting to the presence of the old woman. But I wasn’t worried that she would die from touching me, in fact, I was fairly convinced that death couldn’t touch her. Perhaps because she was already dead.
My anger was instantly replaced with fear.
Holding my wrist to my face, the old woman asked, “Why you and the two brothers, but no one else?” Then, she let go of my arm, which fell to my side. When I lifted it up to inspect my wrist once more, the sigil was gone.
My fear and confusion quickly blended into rage as all the unanswered questions continued to pile in on me. Impulsively, I tried to grab the old woman’s shoulder, to force her to face me, to force the answers out of her. The moment my fingertips drew close to her, though, she disappeared. What I suddenly saw in front of me was just an empty path. Both the old woman and her wagon were gone.
“You are quite welcome, Bindi,” Jiang suddenly said from behind me.
I turned around to see my long-fingernailed friend scrutinizing me, as if we’d simply just continued with our conversation and the old woman and her wagon never interrupted us. I looked around and took notice of the tents we’d walked past, and it was as if neither of us had moved a fraction of an inch in the last couple of minutes.
“Is something wrong, Bindi?” she asked, and I saw the concern on her face when I turned back to face her.
I couldn’t be untruthful, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her about the old woman. Mostly because I wasn’t sure if the old woman really existed or if I’d simply hallucinated her. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything that happens at this circus.”
“Except perhaps that some of your answers might lie in the ebony caravan?” Jiang asked.
“Maybe,” I told her. “But I expect those answers will only raise more questions.”
***
The ebony caravan loomed over the landscape and seemed to glare down at us as we approached it. The images of an angry god and a covetous devil once more dominated my thoughts before I could squelch them. What god or devil could have devised the things I’d seen inside those walls, I didn’t know. The Menagerie alone, with its collection of tiny, horned rabbits no bigger than my thumb, and other curiosities didn’t warrant all the stealth it took to hide them. Why would Laurent and Rex insist on concealing them?
Thinking of that ghastly collection gave me more courage. Maybe it was because that trailer could possibly be the source for all my answers—it was something I’d always felt deep down inside my bones—that all the answers I sought were located here. Yet, they still managed to be completely hidden.
Jiang followed me as I approached the caravan, this time deciding to enter it from another direction, not the front entrance. Jiang seemed confused by my sudden change of direction.
“There seems to be no one at the entrance to stop us,” she said. “Why do you walk on this path?”
Her innocent question made me shudder, and I was momentarily stopped in my tracks. Jiang’s eyes widened with understanding. “Too much danger?”
“There’s another way to go inside that might be safer,” I explained to her. “It’ll also take us straight to our destination.”
As I said the words and resumed my steps, I wondered if the back door to The Dark Room was still in use and more importantly, safe. The possibility that it could have been changed in my absence might have seemed absurd once, but the absurd no longer applied to this place. Everything within it defied rational explanation and, therefore, the absurd is what dominated. Furthermore, I didn’t suspect Laurent or Rex of altering it, but the caravan itself. It seemed to have a mind of its own, which may not have always been in concert with the brothers. In my experience, doors just appeared and disappeared on their own schedules.
Fortunately, we found the door when we finished circling the strange caravan. I was relieved but also slightly alarmed because it meant we would continue onward, into the very belly of the darkness. There always had been and still was a part of me that rebelled at the idea, that insisted I return and take safety in my domicile. But I wouldn’t listen to that voice. If I did, I’d never get the answers I was after.
Chapter Nine
While contemplating my next move, the door suddenly openedon its own, as if the dark interior were beckoning us to enter. I barely made out the slightest tremor in Jiang’s voice as she saw the door widen. Yet she remained steady as a rock.
“This is the first time the door acknowledges your presence and clears the way for you?”
I nodded, my rattled nerves and increasing anxiety temporarily collaborating to steal my voice. Every cell of my body was protesting the very thought of entering that dark and confined space. Yet I already knew too much to turn back now—no, I couldn’t rest until this mystery was put to bed. Yes, I worried about Jiang learning the horrible truth that lay beyond this doorway, but based on the expression on her face, there was nothing I could say to dissuade her.
“Let us go then,” she said.
With a show of confidence, I tried to put my best foot forward by entering the yawning blackness of The Dark Room. The door promptly shut behind Jiang with a firm but soft click, and we were surrounded by the darkness.
Then, like an invisible cue, a spotlight suddenly shone above us. The harsh glow made us shield our eyes and squint, until our vision could adjust to the sudden brilliance. Once I could see clearly again, I looked at one of the myriad shelves that filled this room. It struck me that the only lights in the caravan were spotlights, deliberately placed in specific areas.
