Finvarra's Circus

3- Illusions and Snow

LEANNA KICKED THE DAMP earth beneath her feet, sure her numbed toes were nearly purple, if not already black. It was one of many discomforts, but she thought it best to take everything in stride. Fear and hysteria never did anyone any good. And so she did not plead or beg as a big burly man in a vest too small bound her hands, where Leanna knew black and blue marks would ensue. She cringed, but did not resist or protest as he pulled more than escorted her out of the Big Top, and through the labyrinth of tents and wagons. She asked no questions when they reached a large, white tent, and he thrust her down onto a cushioned bench outside the curtain partings.

 "Sit here," he ordered brusquely, glaring down at Leanna. Under normal circumstances, Leanna doubted she would have been frightened of a man in a sequined vest and silvery balloon pants. Her reality now far from the bounds of ordinary, she found this bald man with a painted smile utterly terrifying. Obediently she sat. She could feel his eyes on her until the moment he walked to the fold at the curtained opening and turned out to the black night, manning the door. Leanna steeled her back and turned her head away crossly. She hoped to hide her fear,  wishing she wasn't so afraid.  But she was, and was frozen to where she sat.

From the corner of her eye, Leanna looked back to the strongman. She bit her lip to keep from demanding to be told why she was being made to wait. Was Finvarra making arrangements as to how to dispose of her body... of her heart? Worry began to bubble in her throat when suddenly she noticed the strongman incline his head respectfully.

Leanna trailed his gaze out into the night from whence the Raven and the Dove appeared and approached the tent. In their world of black and white, they wore matching expressions of blue melancholy. When they stepped before the strongman, his mood too dimmed, and he put a gentle hand on the Dove's shoulder. It was a quiet affection, but the sadness and finality it held reverberated deep in Leanna's chest.

The strongman lowered his hand solemnly and stepped aside. The Dove's shoulders dropped with a white exhale, and she entered first followed closely by the Raven.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and Leanna noted the strongman stiffen. Then a flame was ignited within, illuminating the inside of the tent. Like a puppet show breathed to life, three shadows bloomed against the thin canvas. Two were huddled closest to the opening, while the third, the tallest of the silhouettes walked the length of the tent, its lean outline stretching away from them.

A feminine voice then spoke from within.  "Say something, Finvarra, please. I know it is sudden, and the last thing I want is to hurt you in any way. But you saw the snow. You know what it means. My performance has appeased the Elders and they have finally forgiven me. How can  I possibly shun their mercy, and reject their invitation for me to return home to Forever? You are my brother, Finvarra, and I love you more than I can stand. But with every girl that is slain, I can only watch you fall deeper into this darkness you've surrendered to, and it pains me not to be able to help you."

Leanna's hands stopped their agitated twisting on her lap as the words clamped down on her heart. After all the years she had defended Finvarra's name and scorned the vicious rumors, it couldn't be that they were true.  Finvarra couldn't have killed those girls. Leanna gripped her skirts tightly and listened as the girl inside went on.