The Graveyard Festival

Chapter 4 - Ink and Silence

This time, however, after a long, questioning look at the Ringmaster, the boy acceded to her request. "The mirrors show what your life could have been if you had made a different choice at certain points of your life."

Her thoughts jumped back instantly to the vision of her parents. Thana's heart missed a beat, and then plummeted at a terrifying speed. So her parents could have lived. They could have gone ice skating with her, or moved to a city with her.

But they didn't. Thana swallowed forcefully, her voice deserting her for a moment. "And my reflections?" she asked in a low voice. "Why did they attack me?"

The boy ran a hand through his hair. "The Hall of Mirrors enjoy making things scary for people. It used to double as our haunted house, but when this poor kid went insane after staying inside for a bit too long, we asked the Festival to block it off. The whispers..." He shuddered.

"The Festival?"

"This place," the boy said, gesturing around him. "This entire carnival. It's called the Graveyard Festival."

At the mention of its name, the entire ground seem to quake. But it was a gentle quiver, as though the Festival, or whatever it was called, was agreeing. Thana started, but neither the boy nor the Ringmaster reacted. It was as if they were used to such behaviours from the Festival.

Unease was now flitting through Thana. She was suddenly acutely aware that she was standing in a strange place talking to two strange men, surrounded by an odd magic that seemed hell-bent on attacking her in various ways.

"I don't understand what this place is," Thana said warily, backing away from the silent Ringmaster before her. She was sure that the skull lamp on the desk had turned to stare at her. Its fiery gaze did nothing to thaw the icy chill that was spreading across her skin. "I want to leave."

"Well, you can't," the boy said brusquely. His eyes met hers and held them. "The Festival opened its gates for you. Nettie told us it did."

"Nettie?"

In response, he nodded to the shelf. The doll that Thana had seen at the stalls earlier was now sitting limply on the topmost shelf, watching her with its dark, round eyes.

As Thana looked back at it suspiciously, the doll, slowly but surely, cocked its head.

Thana closed her eyes, counted to five, and opened them again. The doll tilted its head to the other side. She hadn't been imagining it.

"What do you want from me?" she asked as she turned back to the Ringmaster and the boy, who were both watching her with careful interest. Her heartbeats sped up tenfold. "There is nothing I can offer."

The Ringmaster shook his head, his lips curling into a small smile. But there is, he seemed to say.

"Your dreams. You can offer your dreams," said the boy. His eyes seemed to be alit with excitement, and something else too. Thana couldn't place it, but it was all too familiar.

"You want me to stay?" Thana asked. Her stomach sank.

"Don't you want to?"

She opened her mouth, and closed it again. The word 'no' was already on her tongue, but something held her back.

Sensing her hesitation, the boy pushed on. "Doesn't it hurt, to be called a freak?" he said quietly. "Doesn't it hurt, when people laugh at you, but still come to you not because they like you, but because they want your dreams?"

Thana felt the dull blow in her heart. She drew in a shuddering breath. "How did you know about my dreams?" she finally asked.

"I have my eyes and ears." He brushed a finger along the tattoos.

"Have you been watching me?"

"No." The boy shook his head. "We were watching your town. You simply caught our eye."

"You are not helping," Thana said angrily. The exhaustion was finally weighing down on her. Her thoughts were merging into a jumbled mess in her mind. She took a deep breath. "If you want me to stay, you need to give me a reason. And a good one."

Without missing a beat, the boy said, "Family. You'll have a family."

She shot him a look of irritation. "Really? A family? I don't believe it."

"Come on! You craft dreams for a living, I have tattoos that I can bring to life. We have a Ringmaster who doesn't speak, and there is a self-aware doll staring at you from that bookshelf! Are we not freakish enough for you?"

Thana shook her head, unwilling to answer. She turned and shouldered the boy aside, intent on leaving. She had just reached out for the tent flaps when the ground shook again.

This time, it threw Thana off balance, and she fell backwards. In front of her, thick vines burst from the ground and slithered upwards, sealing her in. Thana swore.

"You can't keep me here," she said as she got back to her feet shakily. The anger roiled over her skin and seeped into her blood.

The Ringmaster looked at her sternly. That wasn't us, his eyes said, and Thana suddenly felt like a small child being scolded.

"That was the Festival telling you what it thinks you should do," the boy added. "Think about it, Thana."

It chipped at Thana's resolve. She thought about all the times the people in school first pushed her around, and then avoided her for fear of her nightmares, when she finally lost it on one occasion. The boy had screamed so loudly that what seemed like half the school had burst into the classroom. Meanwhile, the townspeople hardly cared for the sixteen-year-old girl living in the graveyard alone, except for the fact that she could craft beautiful dreams for them. They always wanted more. The bitter thought sent anger roiling through her veins. Her dreams were like drugs.

But the Graveyard Festival felt like something else entirely. She had only known it for a few hours, but it felt like years and years. It felt like home, Thana realized.

Hadn't she always wanted to leave Six?

The Ringmaster stepped forward, and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. Please, he seemed to say.

It seemed like a foolish move, to agree when she knew nothing about the carnival nor its inhabitants. But a primal instinct told her to say yes.

"Okay," she said quietly.

As soon as she said it, a ghostly breeze rose from nothingness and flooded the tent. It tore her breath from her lungs and froze her from the inside. The vines shook, and retreated back into the earth.

"Thank you," the boy whispered, shutting his eyes.

The Ringmaster smiled, and bowed deeply. When he stood straight again, he seemed to say:

Welcome to the Graveyard Festival.