A FATAL FESTIVAL (Alethea, The Circus Sleuth Book 3) Read online

  “People who took the time to get used to it,” he answered simply. It became clear why he didn’t have time to digress in the next moment. “Alethea, there’s been more accidents. Or incidents? Either way, things have happened yesterday that I learned of only after I assumed you already went to bed. But we have a lot of work ahead of us.” He looked at her intently.

  “And when you say we and us, do you mean me?” She raised her eyebrow as she slowly walked back to the table and set down the cups of dangerously aromatic tea. She wondered why they didn’t also put cabbage in there; it would have fit with all the other Cs. And perhaps…clementines? “This is way off topic,” Alethea mumbled.

  “Hm?” Virgil inquired. She just shook her head. “When I say these words, I mean what they mean! This is not just about you. As it seems, someone—or rather, a group of people, because a single saboteur would never have been able to pull it off—is trying to disrupt our festival!” The old man leaned forward with such vigor and started gesticulating so erratically that he almost tipped over his tea. “And we have to find them! The public will learn of this! There will be policemen all over, and everything will fall apart! You and me, Alethea, we’ll have to prevent this. We have to save everything!”

  She inclined her head to the side. “Well, everything may be a bit of an exaggeration.”

  “Everything!”

  “Alright, Virgil. We’ll save…everything.”

  He nodded repeatedly. “That’s the spirit! Now get dressed, we need to get going!” The circus director suddenly stood up, hitting the table, and his cup swerved dangerously before coming to a stop again. He quickly picked it up and emptied it, as if it was a vodka shot. Alethea’s eyes narrowed a bit, thinking that couldn’t have felt very good.

  “I am dressed, Virgil. You’re the one who just slept in his chair, drooling all over his collar.” He started wiping his collar and looked as if he had just swallowed something disgusting, while Alethea took a more relaxed sip of her own tea. She blinked, and realized why the old man had gulped it down so fast. It wasn’t good, but perhaps it was healthy. She sighed.

  About five minutes later, they met outside. Alethea had given Virgil some private time to get his clothes in order, and then spent the time outside his trailer to stare at the distant sky and high clouds, contemplating how she would be able to go toe-to-toe with some sort of magical circus saboteurs. She wanted to listen to America’s advice, but so far, all she had done was make a lot of tea. That was easier than believing.

  “I’m going to need some details, Virgiliu.” She usually didn’t call him that, so she hoped that it signaled she meant business. “And your constant ideas about not getting the fuzz all up in your beeswax, or whatever the old-timers from Transylvania say, are getting a bit too much. If someone is in serious danger of getting hurt, or worse, then we need to alert the authorities! I know this festival is important, but it can’t be more important than the health of your performers.”

  “Everyone knows the risks, Alethea!” He threw on his jacket and cleared his throat. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then he sighed. “I know, I know. Listen. If we don’t make decisive progress today, or if something else happens, I am going to call the police, I promise.” Alethea nodded once, a silent you better in her eyes. The old man took a bow and made a gesture along the path, letting her lead for all of two seconds before coming up beside her again. “And people don’t speak English in Transylvania.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I heard something alarming yesterday, and I think you should’ve told me earlier, before I had to hear from my little sister.” Sending her a sidelong glance, Virgil raised an eyebrow. Alethea gave the scariest smile in her repertoire and continued, “Apparently there is some sort of ridiculous rivalry going on between our circus and another. And before this turns into some sort of West Side Story deal, I’d suggest you tell me what’s the issue, and maybe I can make you talk like adults. Because I’m certain it’s you and some other guy that also stole your girlfriend, or maybe this time you stole his girlfriend. Something like that.”

  They came to a stop, somewhere on the narrow, shadowy path behind tents, stands, and trailers standing in their neat rows; the perfect place for a conspiracy. “Alethea, I did not tell you exactly because I do not want to support this nonsense. No stolen girlfriends are involved!” He saw the look in her eyes. “Or jade animals!” A small sigh later, he turned from justifying to explaining. “You may not believe me now, but for once, this is not about me. People might sometimes say that I am the circus…the circus is bigger than you or me, you know. The circus exists because of each one of us, but the circus is greater than each one of us.”

  He had a distant look in his eyes as he said that, and seemed to look through Alethea into some unknown realm of his mind, another memory perhaps. A man of his age would have enough to spend all his days merely remembering older, bygone ones. “And even more than that…I don’t know what this is about, this feud. Whatever injury was dealt, real or perceived, will not be spoken off by them. I suppose the injustice experienced was too deep…the idea that we may not even remember it seems like a cruel mockery.”

  Alethea pursed her lips, and she needed a moment to consider. It was strange that Virgil, of all people, wouldn’t know something so seemingly significant. If people were willing to hurt them even to the point of endangering lives, then she would have expected there to be a good reason for that bad blood. “That’s just weird. You can’t have a rivalry with one side not even knowing about it, more or less.” Virgil looked disconcerted, and put his hands together as if out from between them he could press an answer.

  “That’s the best I can do regarding reasons, I’m afraid. But what I know more about is the people, and the circus they’re involved with. Circus Pandemonium. I think you’re familiar with them.” He smiled a short smile, perhaps one of regret, because from now on, she wouldn’t be able to look at them with neutral eyes again. It was the sort of knowledge that meant growing suspicion and a loss of innocence. “We’re actually going to meet them now.” Just like anyone would have expected of Virgil—looking like he did—he took out a pocket watch. “And we shouldn’t be late.”

  “Lead the way, Mr. White Rabbit,” Alethea said with a short chuckle. About five minutes later, they arrived on the other side of the festival grounds, where the Circus Pandemonium had made its camp. Just like their own circus largely followed a Victorian theme, this circus stayed true to its own name and had a darker, demonic flair. In the context of their current situation, Alethea couldn’t help but feel weird about that. “So this is the lair of evil,” she stated with a sidelong look at Virgil.

  “Times have changed a lot, Letha.” He put his hands on his hips and looked thoughtfully at the pandemoniac big top. Finally, he turned towards her. “This is sort of a diplomatic meeting. Note that they have disliked us for years, and it became a…tradition, I suppose. And then…people reciprocate. I actually tried to get them at this festival as an attempt at reconciliation.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t…accuse anyone.”

  “You still haven’t told me what I could accuse them of,” Alethea murmured grudgingly. The old man seemed to gloss over that instantly, and instead kept leading the way towards one of the side tents. As it was apparently the meeting spot they had agreed on, they had put up a table with some chairs on the stage. Past a somewhat scary-looking guy, who recognized Virgiliu and let them in, they walked up there and sat down.

  Something in the air had prevented them from saying anything, and even now, neither of the two envoys managed to even press out a greeting; the atmosphere was oppressive and somewhat uncomfortable. It took some time for anyone to speak up and break the awkward atmosphere; neither side seemed to risk offending with their first words.

  Opposite from Virgil and Alethea sat two people from Circus Pandemonium. Presumably, it was customary for both sides to bring the same number of people. Alethea felt grateful that no one had tried searching t
hem for weapons before they were allowed inside. Perhaps there was still a chance for peace?

  The older man, who she assumed to be the circus director, looked remarkably unassuming compared to the extravagancy that Virgil represented. She had heard of him, Gudmund Scrivener, a tall and handsome man in his mid-forties, with light hair and smiling blue eyes. He did not look like one would expect a circus director to look, but perhaps that was exactly his intention. Right then, he was in jeans and band T-shirt—some sort of heavy metal band Alethea wasn’t actually familiar with.

  His co-negotiator was a younger, more corpulent man, wearing a set of round, lightly shaded glasses and long, ponytailed hair. He seemed to strike a weird balance between looking somewhat laid-back, with an old-fashioned leathery circus charisma—much like the one Braden tried to project—but still seeming a bureaucrat, a strategist, and not an artist. Presumably, the two of them gave Alethea and Virgil the same looks; it was good to know your enemy, if they were enemies.

  “Welcome to our table,” Gudmund finally broke the silence. He seemed to believe speaking very loudly was a surefire way to defeat any and all awkwardness. “I’m glad that we can finally get this thing out and put everything on the table. Because honestly, I don’t even know what this whole ordeal is based on!”

  “Gudmund!” The other man looked at his boss with a punitive gaze. “I told you not to say that!” He turned to Virgil and Alethea. “In the name of our circus, I apologize. We don’t want this to escalate any further. Gudmund is a bit…rough on the edges.” He suddenly held out his hand. “My name is Reynard Berg.” Alethea shook his hand and introduced herself in turn. After she hesitatingly gave her name, she wasn’t sure which side she was on anymore. A sidelong glance to Virgil, who also shook hands with the man, revealed that he didn’t know any more than she did.

  “Yes, I’m sorry! It’s just that, I believe, none of us wants to get the police involved or wants this to get any uglier. I don’t know what prompted you to invite us, and then do this…stuff. I mean, I’m not saying you personally are responsible, but maybe you need to rein in your folks, you know? No offense.” Gudmund smiled; it was an honest smile.

  “Gudmund, just because you say ‘no offense’ doesn’t mean you can say anything you want.” Reynard seemed disgruntled with Gudmund’s behavior, and his expression was apologetic when he again took charge of the diplomatic part. “Forgive us. We are understandably rattled by what happened, and there’s some negative sentiments among our performers. But I’m certain we can work together to remedy the situation.”

  Finally, Virgil had the chance to say his part. “I don’t understand.” He spoke not only from his own heart, but also from Alethea’s. “I came here under the impression that, well…that I just wanted to make sure that things are good between us.” He sent a sidelong glance to his apprentice, as if he could read what to say in her face. She didn’t believe the old man could be at such a loss. “Someone has sabotaged our performances, and…we just wanted to tell you we do not believe it was you. We believe that this feud should end. So…what are you saying?”

  It was now Gudmund’s and Reynard’s turn to look at each other in a confused manner. “We have been sabotaged, and we thought that it was you, because for some reason there is this strange conflict between our circuses,” Gudmund managed to explain. “And now you’re telling us that you’ve been sabotaged, and that we’re the ones at fault?” They both wrinkled their foreheads.

  There was some confusion in the air, and it appeared to be that something shadowy went on in the background. If Gudmund and Reynard were to be believed, then both their circuses had become targets yesterday, which meant that either these incidents were completely unrelated to their supposed rivalry—both sides claiming to be ignorant of it—or there was someone who wanted them to be at each other’s throats.

  “That’s not at all what I am saying,” Virgil stated slowly, and rewound his tape. “We came here as a gesture of goodwill, to say that we’re not holding you all responsible, and to reaffirm that we’re all interested in ending this conflict. We’re not blaming anyone!” He sighed. “Not yet, at least. If you’ve been sabotaged too, I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t think one of our people would do that. We don’t even know what this is about, just like you said!”

  Alethea bit her lip. There was a rising tension around the table. Although both sides were vocal about wanting the same thing, and believing the same thing, the mood started to deteriorate. Contrary to their words, they didn’t really believe what the other side claimed. Coming into the situation with a clear-cut picture of what was wrong, neither Virgil nor Gudmund wanted to take a step back and reevaluate. Her mouth was half-open, but she hesitated just an instant too long.

  “You don’t even know what this is about?” Gudmund narrowed his eyes, looked to Reynard, who shrugged, and then looked back to Virgil. “How…why would we be fighting, then? It’s not us who started this. I asked everyone. Are you trying to say that my people are lying to me? Or…what are you trying to say? I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t understand? Well, I don’t understand, either! Something must have begun this useless feud. And I know that ‘your people’ can hardly claim innocence in this. They should at least admit to what happened in the past. I’m inclined to believe this isn’t your fault, but we should both be man enough to say that we were wrong before.” Alethea put a hand on Virgil’s arm. But looking at Gudmund, she knew it was too late, and looking at Reynard, she exchanged with him a silent look of exasperation.

  “I’m beginning to think it was a bad decision to meet with you, this is going nowhere. First you say we aren’t the ones at fault, and then you’re trying to get some sort of giant apology out of me? We already apologized! That was the first thing I said!” Gudmund had already gotten half up from his seat while talking, and now Alethea expected him to throw his cup of mead on the floor and draw his langsax, or something like that.

  “That was the first thing I said,” Reynard mumbled. Nobody really seemed to hear him.

  “I think you should go,” Gudmund concluded. “You can come back when you’re ready to be honest and direct about this, and actually ready to tell us what is going on with your guys.”

  Virgil stood up and shook his head. “I’ve been nothing but honest, Gudmund. I hope that nothing bad happens, and we are going to find the saboteur, with your help or without.” He turned around. “Come on, Alethea.” He didn’t wait for her, but instead walked away with remarkable speed for a man his age. Alethea attempted to smile, waved shyly, and then ran after him. She understood now how these people could have a feud. Once she caught up with Virgil, she tried patting him on his back in a gesture of support.

  “Well, that went swimmingly.” Alethea sighed. Virgil didn’t share her humor, but simply made a gruff sound of acknowledgement and grinded his teeth. It made her wonder if they were actually his teeth, or perhaps some sort of artificial replacement that he could grind more freely. They walked like this, with her trying to get a reaction or a word, and him trying to be very grim and unmoved.

  “So, about that sabotage…what exactly happened?” It seemed prudent to distract him with more practical concerns, and she looked at him with big eyes. There was a real investigation to start, somewhere in this regrettable situation; whether the faceless saboteur belonged to either of their circuses, or if anyone had been telling a big fat lie could be determined in the future. Virgil could just advise his whole circus to stay away from that other circus and not go on playdates with them, because they’re meanies, one and all.

  “Several things happened. If you count the man in the crowd who might have been just about anyone having a bad day, then we have had three different incidents. Someone tampered with Bruce’s equipment, and if he had been any slower, he might have seriously injured himself when one of his metal weights broke. And your own father has been the victim of a stink bomb someone smuggled into his magic equipment.” Stroking his beard, he
added a final assessment: “These things are quite varied, as you’ve seen. A stink bomb only hurts one’s dignity, while Bruce could have been seriously injured.” He smiled at her for a moment, as if thankful. “And you could have been seriously injured.”

  “But what happened to Braden and me is not as obvious a malicious act, or at least a misguided prank, as these other two.” Alethea’s words came out slowly, with her trying to think simultaneously. “I told you what America advised me to do, and what she thinks, but…it might have just been a random drunk, after all.” She said that without believing it, like it was a reassuring thought, something she might vainly wish to convince herself of.

  It ran contrary to that strange promise she had made.

  “So what are your thoughts on this, Virgil? The Circus Pandemonium people won’t be too keen on us now, but if we make progress, we could gain their trust by finding the person who sabotaged them. I can try to find out more about that on my own, maybe. You need to make sure everyone knows to keep their eyes open and that there isn’t someone in our circus that wants to take revenge.” She sighed gently. “And my father…I guess now I know why he was out yesterday evening.”

  They had arrived back near their own territory on the festival grounds, and naturally slowed their steps and then came to a complete halt. There were only a few people around, but they still huddled to the side of one of their stands in order to have some privacy.

  “I think you know what you’re doing, so all I need is regular reports.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know that you’ve slacked in that regard before.” For some reason, that prompted him to swirl the end of his mustache. “I will take care of organizing our defense against this. Organizing the defense of this festival, in fact. The difficulty will only be to keep this from leaking to the press.”