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“If they are hiding, then we need to find a way to come to them,” he interrupted gently as he reached back and took her small hand in his much larger one.
She reared back a little, but her steps hastened once again to keep pace with him as she gave him a searching look. “What? How?”
“Zagrol knows a way,” he rasped quietly as they stepped out from between the last two tents on the path, each with boldly printed signs that advertised the services and wonders they offered.
They were immediately met with the large booths and displays set along the main path that ran through the center of the carnival. It was silent and empty, the looming figures and props set along the way wraithlike as the fog verged over the path in thick sheets. MaryAnne shivered and ducked in closer to him, wrapping herself around his arm. It slowed him down, but he purred gently for his mate, his tail curling around her as they passed the numerous eyes, carved and painted, staring after them as they passed.
“Fuck, I hope,” she muttered, casting a wary look at their surroundings, and he mentally agreed.
If the male betrayed them, he would kill him. The weight of his ax strapped across his back was a comfortable reminder that he had the ability to take down the traitor and many more if they were attacked. Long enough for his mate to get away at the very least. His hand tightened on hers slightly, and she gave it a reassuring squeeze.
The rides were just ahead. He could see the skeletal gray outline of them. Among them he saw the slightly domed top of exactly what he was looking for and a familiar silhouette standing alone at its side slowly became visible as they drew closer. The goblin’s skinny tail flicked restlessly, his eyes glowing in the gloom, and he turned his head toward them. Tension bled out of Raskyuil, and he grunted quietly as he drew his mate with him in the goblin’s direction.
It seemed that Zagrol was as good as his word. He spotted the male standing beside a large circular ride on which beasts were frozen in an appearance of charging around the axis. And the goblin was alone as promised. Although Raskyuil had been careful to not give even a hint as to his true purpose, he still hadn’t been entirely certain of what to expect.
Zagrol raised his hand in greeting and gestured quickly before stepping into the shadows behind the ride. MaryAnne, half-blind in the gloom, leaned on Raskyuil trustingly as he followed the goblin. He knew the exact moment she became aware of where they were by surprised gasp.
“A carousel?” his mate queried softly, her brow scrunching as she peered up at it. She shivered. “Okay, a very creepy carousel. This is where we are meeting him?”
“Yes,” he rumbled. “Just a moment longer, little mate. He indicated that we follow him this way behind the ride where we will be less likely to be seen.”
“Makes sense,” she mumbled, but he felt her shiver again as she peered up at the snarling face of a fanged fairy horse rearing up slightly.
He glanced over it as they passed and understood her unease. A fairy horse was no gentle creature as a mount. Few fae could control such a beast, preferring to hitch them to chariots and wagons over actually trying to mount them. But at least they were horses and not true monsters like the fairy hounds. Still, its appearance was disturbing enough compared to a mortal horse.
Ghostly silver in hue, its numerous horns curling back as its sharp hooves rose a little in the air as if preparing to strike. It was followed by more similar creatures with a few crocotta mixed among them. His eyes fell upon the latter and he felt his heart constrict a little, but he shoved it aside and hustled his mate past them into the shadows where Zagrol waited for them.
The male’s eyes glowed in the darker shadows as he waited for them beside the gate. He leaned casually against the tall, pillar torch set up to illuminate the entrance and grinned as he propped his foot on the short fence around the ride. With its light snuffed out, Raskyuil could see why the male had decided that they meet there.
“So you’ve come. I take it that you are ready for my very special ride,” he murmured, his eyes fixing on MaryAnne as he said it, and Raskyuil growled with warning at the obvious flirting in the male’s tone. The goblin barked out a laugh and waved him off.
“Do not worry, troll. I no longer have any designs on your mate. But this is, in fact, my carousel,” he said, gesturing to the barely visible figure of a snarling crocotta. “My family and I carved these and replaced the simple animals that the humans had upon it, and we are its sole operators. And to get what you want… you need to step onto my ride,” he murmured as he lowered his foot and straightened to sweep an arm toward the gate in a courtly fashion.
“We get on the carousel and then what?” MaryAnne asked as she hesitantly eyed it.
A sly grin stretched across the goblin’s face. “It takes you round and round and in and out. When you go in, look carefully and you will see. They always come when the carousel goes round. Find them, speak to them, do what you can. I will keep it going for as long as I am able.”
MaryAnne took a deep breath and glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. Raskyuil could see the question in their depths. Was this real? Should they do this?
“If you are going to get on, now is the time,” Zagrol hissed. “I hadn’t wished to wait to do this until the last hour, but there was little choice. If you want any chance of trying to lure one out to speak to you, this is it. They won’t speak to me or to any of the monsters. But perhaps they will speak to you. But this is the window—take it or leave it.”
Raskyuil dipped his head at his mate, silently affirming that they ought to try. A small smile wobbled on her lips, and she glanced toward the ride, hope and eagerness lighting up her face, and nodded. Together they climbed to the carousel platform. The crocotta was directly in front of them as if some god with a sense of humor designed it exactly that way.
He lifted his mate onto his back and swallowed thickly as he swung up behind her, her bottom immediately nestling against him so intimately that he had to bite back a groan. Gripping the large pole in front of her with one hand, his other arm curled around her, holding her to him. To the right, Zagrol grinned up at them and gave them a cheerful wave as he struck something on the panel in front of him.
Magic flowed through the carousel. Raskyuil felt it as it raced over his skin as the entire structure came to life. Colorful lights lit up and a peculiar song rose as the entire platform suddenly shifted forward and the carved crocotta rose slowly in the air.
Round and round they spun as the crocotta rose and sank again and again, slowly at first and then faster and faster. He lost sight of the goblin completely. There was nothing but a thick veil of fog that seemed to grow even thicker and crept into the carousel despite how impossible that should have been with its movement.
The fog spilled in faster, curling around them, a glow brightening within it, revealing numerous shadows that were increasingly defined. Raskyuil’s breath caught, and he felt his mate go rigid against him.Younglings.Not just a handful but well over two dozen if not more by his count clambered onto the ride, the laughter rising ghostly around them.
“Sally,” MaryAnne’s voice broke, drawing his attention and he peered in the direction she was staring. “And Christa.”
The figure of a very small female with curls floating around her head sat with a slightly older female, her hair bound in braids on a fairy horse. They smiled, their giggles floating ethereally around them, and his mate cried.
Her eyes leaped to the fairy horse outside where a young male sat with an older female, and another sob escaped her even as she suddenly laughed. “Andy and Agatha! Where are the others though? Where’s Michael, Hugh, Ralph, Tommy?” Suddenly her breath hitched. “Sabrina?”
The shadowy form of a young female with a luminous light burning within her stepped between the fairy horses, long hair floating around her. Just behind her, Raskyuil was able to make out three older males who drew close to the fairy horses with wary expressions on their faces.
