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“True, although quite bluntly phrased,” Erika said. “There was a time when our troupe of performers were free to come and go because we had no quotas.”
“Why do you have quotas now?” I asked.
“Because, child,” Erika answered. “Life is a cycle of birth and death. There must be a balance and those we answer to require it. It’s a constant balancing act.”
“Those you answer to?” I repeated. “Who are they?”
“That is a question we don’t even know,” Mr. Grey answered.
“Then the posters in the Dark Room?” I started.
Mr. Grey answered again. “The posters are reserved exclusively for the people harvested from the audience, while the dolls serve as temporary holding places for our performers at the season’s end or right before.”
“Better than the idea you suggested of having ‘soul jars’,” Laurent asserted. “At least our troupe retains reproductions of their bodies until they can be delivered, thanks to my contribution.” Seeing my look of surprise, he added, “Yes, Bindi, they too fall under my jurisdiction. What better way to attract new souls than by offering them a job they love?”
“That’s why you make the dolls,” I concluded in a near-whisper.
Laurent’s wistful eye landed on the shelf that Erika was emptying. It was filled with rag dolls. “I wasn’t always so proficient in my craftsmanship,” he admitted. “The rag dolls on these shelves were the first ones I made. When the materials for the porcelain faces and hands become scarce, I have to compromise and become more creative.”
Rex narrowed his eyes and replied in a low tone, “There is only one thing either of us ever cared about since this circus began.” Shifting his eyes towards me, they appeared to soften. “And we’re about to lose her again.” The harsh lighting made his eyes glisten, and I saw they were full of tears.
“Now that the questions are answered,” Erika said with a sigh and a nod, “perhaps this is a good time to finish our task.”
Mr. Grey looked at the two brothers who had loved me for at least four lifetimes. “You may both stay if you like. She probably wants the men who loved her to be with her at the end.”
Rex shuddered as he looked away. In a deep voice that was hoarse and gravelly with tears, he muttered, “I can’t.” Then he turned and walked out hastily. I looked at Laurent, who gave me a sad smile. Then took my hand and kissed it. I started to smile until he spun on his heel and left as fast as Rex. The door slammed shut behind them.
Mr. Grey grunted and said, “Perhaps one day, they’ll stay with you, my dear.” He stretched out his hand. An inchoate fear overcame me and my legs instinctively carried me away from him as I inched toward the back door. The spotlights I’d been standing under suddenly shut off as soon as I was out of their glare.
Naturally, the back door wouldn’t budge, and the doorknob was frozen in place. Mr. Grey walked towards me with his proffered hand, making slow, deliberate steps. I ran along the wall, heading towards the front door, and the lights turned off behind me. I doubted this door would be more cooperative than the previous one, but I bashed my shoulder into it anyway while straining to turn the frozen knob before Mr. Grey drew any closer.
This time, Erika was my target. She acted so blasé, like this was something she’d witnessed every season. I grabbed her shoulder but my hand passed right through her. My second effort achieved the same results.
Erika looked at me with annoyance. “How many times must you do that before you realize it doesn’t work?”
“After what you told me on the first day, not to trust anyone,” I replied, the anger rising in my voice, “why are you letting this happen?”
“Because you became overly curious—I warned you in the hopes you wouldn’t go snooping for answers. That you’d simply keep to yourself.”
Seeing Mr. Grey getting closer once again, I ran for the only door I hadn’t tried yet, the one to Laurent’s workshop. To my amazement, it opened easily. The workspace was mostly empty, except for some unused scraps of material and crafting tools that were neatly laid out. But I was too fearful to care. I desperately launched myself against the walls, hoping to break through one of them but to no avail. My bruised and battered body ached with each attempt but no exit was in sight. Then Mr. Grey entered the room.
I panicked, walking backwards as I whispered to Amelia, “Is there another way out? Can you help me escape?”
She shook her head.
My heart sank as Mr. Grey said, “A valiant, but futile effort. It’s all over now.”
The dimming lights made it hard to see anymore. I wanted to run, hide, escape, and do anything but face what lay in store for me. But there was nowhere left to go. I was as doomed as all the others being collected by Erika.
Mr. Grey covered my eyes with his palm and my breathing grew faster and more shallow, before everything went black.
Epilogue
I was bubbling with excitement and could barely contain myself as I stepped off the train to Marietta and found myself in a long line of people eager to show their abilities.
“Next!” said the deep, baritone voice of the man inside the big top.
When it was my turn, I practically skipped with joy into the tent, nearly dropping my props in my rush to get inside. The man in the top hat didn’t seem to mind, and responded with a smile.
