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“I received your summons, troll. I had hoped teaching you all that I knew of wards would be enough to ensure that I wouldn’t ever be called upon again, but it seems that I was mistaken.” He smirked. “How are they working out for you, by the way? Tucking your mate away safe and sound, I imagine.”
“No less than what you would do,” he growled in reply, and the goblin laughed.
“Fair enough. We goblins do tend to keep our females safely hidden away, and with our sizable families we are quite able to protect them far better.” He gave Raskyuil an amused look. “So what is it that you want? Have you bungled a ward and need a refresher? Trying to break into one of the storage tents? Piece of advice, don’t bother. There’s nothing of value in any of them. I still haven’t located the collector that gathers and compresses magic into fairy coins, and I doubt you will find it before I do.”
Raskyuil gave him a disgusted look. “Is that why you cling to the carnival? Because you wish to rob it?”
Zagrol laughed. “Nothing so crude. I don’t want the gold exactly. If I just wanted that, I could have broken through Elwyn’s infantile wards long ago and simply taken it.”
An amused, knowing snort escaped Raskyuil, and the goblin suddenly grinned, his bark of laughter piercing the air.
“Oh, naughty boy! You’ve done that already, haven’t you? No, don’t tell me,” he commanded, raising a slender hand. “As for what I want, it is not Elwyn’s gold. No, I want the ability to spread those magic coins across this land like fairy dust and out of the haughty control of aelves who chose where and how to distribute them.” He gave Raskyuil a cryptic look. “But no, I see the reason you are here is for another kind of secret goblins peddle. Spit it out then. What do you want?”
“I want to know a way to communicate with those caught within the shadows and fog,” he growled. “Not just see small glimpses of them, but to see them clearly and perchance speak to them.”
Zagrol narrowed his eyes on him. “A strange request. There is a way but it can be… disturbing to those not familiar with shifting between the shadows.”
Raskyuil frowned and snuffed out his cigar, tucking the remainder away in his coat pocket for later as he regarded the male, his curiosity piqued. “How so?”
The goblin eyed him contemplatively for a long moment and sighed. “There is one ride—one—that we are forbidden to run when there are no guests here while we are at The Bend. This ride is special because as it takes you round and round, it takes you momentarily shifting through the shadows. It’s goblin-made, this ride, though it has been assembled from bits and parts left of human design.” He leaned forward. “You’ve heard it before when we had to lure the little ones away from your mate when she was lost alone in the fog, and Lord Elwyn was quite furious. Quite.”
“Why is it shut down when there are guests? Wouldn’t it be better to close it down when humans are here?”
The male shook his head. “The young ones don’t tolerate the crowds well. They don’t like people wandering through their playground where they are trapped and must remain. Quite an inconvenience.” He chuckled. “The fae who climb upon it enjoy the thrill, and the humans, well, they are too lost in their own bliss to take much note of much of anything,” he added. “All except the children. The children always see everything within the carnival for what it really is. All that untapped power, without the trauma and loss the adults feel. But for them this is a place of wonder, and this special right most especially.”
Raskyuil’s lips thinned. “I see. And when might we do this?”
Zagrol hummed contemplatively. “You are curious, aren’t you? Your mate too, I suspect. I saw her talking to them before I lured them away. They were quite naughty toward her, but they rather liked her, I think.” He huffed an exasperated sigh. “It will need to be at the right time, when Elwyn is unlikely to notice it right away. I will send word when I feel it is safe to do so.”
“Fine,” Raskyuil growled. “You know where to find me.”
The goblin smirked. “Oh, yes. I most definitely do. You and your mate are certainly an interesting pair. I’m very curious to see what you do next.”
The shadows folded around the male, his words hanging in the air for a heartbeat as Raskyuil studied the empty space. He looked up at the rides, resting on the carousel filled with monstrous beasts carved of wood and painted in hues of gray, black and blood red. Their bodies stretched in contorted poses as if captured running from a predator or hunting prey. His nostrils flared as he examined it, and for a moment he heard a giggle as the fog billowed and dark hollow holes for eyes staring at him before disappearing once more.
They were always lurking, always watching. It was time that he met them on their own grounds, so to speak.
ChapterThirty-Nine
The carnival was reopening. MaryAnne couldn’t believe it. After the horrors she’d seen in the town, and the creatures bursting in and out of the fog, teeth snapping and tearing, long serpentine tendrils whipping and reaching for them. So many bloody teeth gnashing for them. It had been worse than the fairy hounds. The mouths were large like some sort of monstrous picture book wyrms rising from the hidden recesses of the earth, looking to devour every living thing. Milky gray, with black slime dripping from the fangs and hanging in threads as their mouths opened wide hungrily. It was just another nightmare to add to her growing list.
But at least she had Raskyuil. Her mate woke her and held her against his large body when her dreams terrorized her. Sometimes he didn’t even have to wake her. He would simply hold her tighter and she would be aware of him in the midst of her nightmare, and he materialized there like a knight vanquishing the dragons.
For four nights she’d been haunted, but at least her days were starting to get back to normal—whatever normal was. The carnival was working its magic. She knew that was why. The carnival’s magic distanced its people from the terror and trauma. They still lived with it, but it rested beneath the skin, festering within them as they gradually returned to more normal activities as they prepared for the carnival’s reopening. Now there was a sense of eagerness overlaying the quiet, dark hum of terror in the background, like a static noise that everyone pretended not to hear.
Just like they continued to pretend like they didn’t hear or see the children in the fog, though they had become louder as they played within the empty carnival. MaryAnne suspected that everyone was eager for things to return to normal for that reason too. The children were a lot harder to hear when the carnival was alive with magic and guests milling through it. With the return of work and a hope of moving past the darkness that descended upon them, spirits rose even as they pretended to avoid the darkest shadows. All except the goblins, but even they walked with a certain wariness despite their usual mocking laughter and jeering humor.
But the darkness was festering beneath it all, and MaryAnne noted it in the heavy silence of the carnival that surrounded them as she followed Raskyuil along the outer edge of the grounds toward the galley tent for lunch. The lack of light, with the exception of the eerie placement of the lanterns, made her nervous. She was eager to get to the brightly lit galley tent. Between the lanterns lit abundantly inside the tent, it was visibly marked by a large torch on either side of it, setting it apart from the other residential tents nearby. The tension eased from her as it came within view, and she smiled a little at the sounds of loud conversation and a hint of dark laughter coming from within the tent.
In the current grim atmosphere, it was the only sign of life within the grounds as the carnival residents streamed in and out at meal hours. Many took their food to their tents, MaryAnne and Raskyuil frequently being among them since she insisted on accompanying him, but she was coming to enjoy their brief forays to the galley tent.
For one, she found the atmosphere of the galley tent preferable to the eerie silence that currently shrouded much of the carnival. Although it had been rather quiet for the first couple of days, the mood within the galley tent had gradually lifted as the people took solace in each other. In contrast, the silence of the carnival, rather than being comforting, loomed oppressively over the grounds like the tattered veil of the grim reaper images that sprung up every Halloween when she was a child.
The second reason was a bit more complicated for her. Although she found the sight of many of the monsters unsettling still, she was slowly finding peace with their presence. And the more social among them tended to loiter around the galley tent, brimming with conversation as they attempted to foster a sense of community. And apparently that had extended to her. The orcs and goblins in particular had been working hard over the last few days to make her—the sole human in the numbers—feel welcome and one of them in the face of whatever dangers lurked outside the camp. It was hard not to like them for all the effort that they made, even if the goblins still creeped her out at times.
No matter how often it happened, she wasn’t prepared for the murmur of greeting as they stepped inside. A shy, embarrassed smile curled her lips as she waved in reply, unable to quite help ducking into Raskyuil’s side, though her large mate wasn’t shy at all at rumbling a curt greeting in return. She was more than happy to let him do so as she looked around and took in the sight of fae sitting and conversing in clusters around the few tables set up within the tent. None of the elves remained long, nor did the drya or the more private species.
But the galley tent was still relatively full. Some spoke quietly with their heads close together to properly hear each other over the noise, while others talked loudly and animatedly. For her, it was the smallest slice of cheer and comfort—even if it was often the grim and dark sort that seemed appropriate all things considered.
