Carnival Souls

The Fortune Teller

What the hell is going on?  wondered Owen for the hundredth time. Was he dreaming? But he had just been walking to the quarry, and he could remember everything that had happened thus far today, so dreaming was out of the question. Hallucinating, then. Maybe he fell on his way to the party and hit his head. It was unlikely, but not unheard of. Yet everything around him was in such sharp clarity that even hallucinating seemed to be a stretch. Was it possible he was having a bad drug trip? Owen had never taken drugs, but he was more willing to believe that than accept anything happening right now as reality.

The crazy woman had disappeared, leaving Lira behind, but she wasn't paying any attention to him or his distress.  He grabbed the girl by the shoulders.

"Tell me what just happened," he said through gritted teeth.

The girl shook her head as if awakening from a day dream, yet didn't seem surprised to see Owen so close to her face. She sighed and shrugged out from under his touch. She wore the expression of someone who had been left in a similar position before and was growing tired of finding herself in it time and time again.

"Come," she said. "Follow me."

Lira led him in the opposite direction she had taken him this morning, so now the funhouse was their destination. Even with his heart crashing in his chest and a rush of white noise roaring in his head, Owen sensed something had shifted.

Above him there was nothing but a blank expanse of violet sky so saturated in color it almost seemed red at the horizon. The stars had vanished, making it seem as though the sky was a void with no end and if he should fall into it he would fall forever. The air around him had gotten thicker, like shadows come to life, morphing and fusing around him so it was like he was wading through water. It did nothing to help the pressure building in his chest.

As they walked back into the main throughway, Owen stopped dead.

"Keep moving," said Lira, under her breath. "They don't appreciate being stared at."

Owen almost said, "How could you not stare?" but kept his mouth shut.

It wasn't just the atmosphere that had changed, but the carnival itself. No longer empty, the fairground was filled with people. But Owen hesitated in calling them people. He wasn't sure what they were.

On his right was an aqueous bubble, floating in the air, splitting into tendrils of water that wound and twisted around its center like some kind of physics-defying whirlpool. In its middle sat a humanish face that was neither distinctly male nor female. He felt a strange desire to reach out and touch it, to see what it felt like, to see if it felt real.

Lira tugged on his t-shirt to get him to move and he stifled a gasp as he turned and found himself face to face with a man that was serpent from the waist down and had an assortment of piercings and tattoos covering his human skin. The red, slitted eyes of snake regarded him and the man hissed to find Owen staring, revealing a red, forked tongue.

"Keep moving," Lira muttered again.

Owen followed her, sidestepping around a more normal-looking woman until he realized what he had thought was a gray dress was actually a thousand live moths covering her and that a pair of fuzzy wings sprouted from between her shoulder blades.

"This isn't real," Owen told himself roughly. But he wasn't imaginative and the more he saw of this godawful place, the more it convinced him he was in some other world. Impossible.

As Lira led him through the frightening crowd, they drew nearer to a large white tent hung with ornate, oriental-looking drapes and from which a hazy red light and long curls of smoke escaped. The air around it smelled like smoked cinnamon and Owen realized with a jolt that until now, he had not noticed the absence of smell in this place.

Even in his panicked state, Owen saw that Lira had put her head down even further and picked up her pace. Before he had time to speculate about what had spooked her, they drew level with the tent and a hand shot out and grabbed Lira.

Lira jerked away, trying to break the grip on her arm, and pulled an old, frail looking woman from out of the tent.

"What's the rush, child?" warbled the old lady, drawing out the word "child" in her reedy voice.

"Let go, Vivian," snapped Lira, scowling and finally managing to free herself.

"That's no way to speak to your elders," chided Vivian, drawing her red shawl more tightly around her thin shoulders and stepping into the light thrown by the torches on either side of her tent.

The woman barely came up to Owen's chest, stooped as she was with age and seemingly bent even further by the mountain of gray curls piled artfully atop her head. And though her beady eyes were nearly lost among the many fold in her wrinkled skin, they were sharp and bright.

"Bebinn has asked me to take Owen to see Gentzel," said Lira coldly and with the air of someone who thought it was clear she was wasting her time.  Owen watched their exchange in a kind of dazed stupor, feeling as though he may have gone into shock to prevent himself from slipping into madness.

"Owen?" asked Vivian, clearly confused. She turned, sending her heavy skirt swinging, and her gaze alighted on Owen who shuddered as something lizard-like brushed by him.

"Ah, the new addition to the family. Why is it that no one consults me when these things are about to occur?"

"I'm sure Bebinn assumed you would already know," replied Lira, exasperated.

"I said 'consult,' my dear, not 'tell,'" said Vivian, now with a bite to her tone. The many bracelets stacked on her wrists clinked and jangled as she pointed to Owen. "Of course I already knew that this young man was on his way. But my insight of the unseen forces working behind the scenes would undoubtedly help you and Bebinn make these transitions easier for all parties."

"That is something you will have to take up with her majesty," said Lira with a sardonic raise of her eyebrows. "I know as much about these impending transitions as you do—which is to say next to nothing."

"You're being particularly abrasive tonight, Lira," said Vivian, narrowing her eyes, all trace of loftiness disappearing from her voice.

"Is that anything new?"

"No," said Vivian brusquely. "But it might interest you to know what I saw about this young man in my crystal gazing."

"By all means tell us what things we have so blindly missed," grumbled Lira. And though she clearly meant it sarcastically, Vivian seized upon her chance to continue.

"He is peculiar to say the least. Reading him was quite a different experience than the others, even you, dear."

"How insightful," Lira muttered.

"There is a big hole in his past, something missing or hidden, something critical. But just as I was about to start examining the frayed threads, some cosmic force pushed me out and I heard the sound of a young boy crying. Very strange indeed." The old woman appeared to be rambling to herself now, her gnarled hands twisting over and over themselves. Suddenly, her eyes refocused.  "You should watch out for him Lira; he's likely to get himself into trouble."

"Everyone gets into trouble around here," said Lira, briefly catching Owen's eye. "Thanks for your useless words of wisdom. We'll be going." And she turned on her heel and walked briskly off, leaving Owen to sidestep the strange fortune-teller and hurry after her.

________________________________________

Hmm, so we've met a new character. A new player in Bebinn's carnival. Who Lira doesn't seem to get along with. Thoughts on why? :)

Thanks for reading!!