Carnival Souls

A Sickness of the Soul

Lyra was wide awake when the knock came at her door. She threw back the covers, pulled on an old cardigan, and crossed the room silently on bare feet. Lydia waited in the shadows of the hallway and pressed a finger to her lips when Lyra emerged. She turned on her heel and led the way down the hall to the back staircase.

Bebinn had never restricted their movements within the carnival nor set hours for when they were allowed to move about, but something about tonight was different. Lyra had never been so conscious of the creaking floorboards under her feet, or the way her breathe echoed in the tight staircase. She was convinced every groan of the old funhouse was Bebinn swooping down on them and she flinched at noises she had long since been conditioned to ignore. The third time she did this, Lydia turned back to ask if she would rather do this a different night. Lyra shook her head and mouthed, "Sorry."

Calm down, she ordered herself. She had disobeyed Bebinn and gone to see Zabaria, this should be easy in comparison. But the knot in her stomach kept twisting tighter the deeper in the funhouse they went.

Down a hallway Lira had never seen before, Lydia took out a small gold key and unlocked a nondescript door. Lyra found herself wishing Owen was with her, and hoped when all this was over, he would forgive her for the way she had treated him recently.

She followed Lydia into the room, treading carefully. She wanted no trace of her presence here, nothing for Bebinn to link back to her. The room was homey, if a little dated. The rug under her bare feet was thick and soft, and the tapestries on the stone walls created a muffled effect on Lira's hearing. There was a small twin bed with a quilt and hand-knit blanket tucked into the corner. In the opposite corner was a massive antique wardrobe. It made Lira think of a book she had loved as a small child, and it took willpower not to go over and throw open the doors to see if maybe it would lead her home.

Between these two standard pieces of furniture stood a huge loom. Lira only recognized the apparatus from a fieldtrip she had taken in elementary school to a staged colonial village. She had been one of the kids the actor had called over to give the old machine a try. The one in front of her looked much older, and the closer she got, the more she could make out the designs carved into its frame. A contained fire in a brazier burned next to the loom.

"Should the fire be that close to the wood?" she asked, not entirely sure why she cared. The loom had the same feeling to it as the carousel; a thing that was older than time, that simply sprang into being with the sky and moon. As if she would feel the gap of its absence in the world if it suddenly disappeared.

"No," answered Lydia. She pointed to a marking in the top right corner; Lyra squinted and saw a carving that looked like a small flame in a circle. "That makes it fire-resistant."

"Right," said Lira as if that was perfectly normal. "So, what's the loom for?"

"It'll be easier to show you," said Lydia.  But instead of going to the loom, the little girl turned to the wardrobe instead. Lira felt an absurd bubble of hope well in her chest, only for it to pop a moment later when Lydia lifted the latch on the door and revealed a nearly-empty interior. Inside hung a single garment that emitted a faint gold pulse like a firefly. Lira moved closer and swore she felt a faint heat emanating from it.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"A soul," replied Lydia.

Deft in her movement, Lydia removed the soul from its hanger and walked it over to the loom where she strung it up. Beckoning Lira over, Lydia took a seat and picked up a white needle. Lira hovered over her shoulder, afraid to get too close, as if breathing on the soul would cause it to fall apart.

Using the tip of the white needle, Lydia pointed to the bottom left-hand corner of the soul. "Do you see that dark spot there?" she asked.

Lira looked where the needle almost touched the fabric, but between the shadows cast by the flickering fire and her own nerves, she didn't see anything different. "No," she said.