Carnival Souls

Crescendo

Zabaria looked sad, glancing past Bebinn at the waiting army. "You know I cannot do that, Bebinn."

Bebinn shrugged as if she had never thought the forest spirit would consent. "So be it," said the witch. She gave a half-turn toward the carousel where Lira was still playing, holding the carnival spirits at bay. "Lira," she called pleasantly, "would you be so kind as to play for our guests?"

Owen's heart jumped into his throat as he saw Lira grimace and close her eyes, but before she could do anything, a gruff shout rose above the music.

"NO! Bebinn, stop!" From between the tents limped Genzel. His work boots scuffed the dirt as he made his way to stand in front of his daughter. The rolled arms of his faded flannel shirt showed forearms and hands splattered with paint as though he had just left his work bench.

Jacks must've told him, thought Owen. Genzel's dark eyes glowered from beneath his bushy eyebrows and, though mostly hidden in the wild tangle of his beard, his mouth was set in a hard line. After months of working with the old man, Owen could tell he was uneasy.

"This has gone on far enough," he growled. "I won' stand by and let this continue."

"Let it happen?" Bebinn barked the words and then chuckled low in her throat. "Father, do not pretend that what I do is done merely because you are indulging me or to convince yourself that it could all end if you suddenly decided to interfere. This happens because I will it too. The only thing you have ever stood back and let happen was my murder."

Genzel flinched at her words, his beard twitching as his mouth twisted in something that may have been shame or anger. He squared his shoulders and when he spoke it was slow and deliberate.  "Aye, I failed you as a father. I won' deny it. I made mistakes and I regretted it for decades. But I let the guilt get in the way of my better judgment. You deserved better. You deserve better than this. Let me help you. I'll go with you, to Mount Desider."

"I will as well," sad a reedy voice.

Vivian stepped from between the mass of spirits at Bebinn's rear. She was dressed plainly in simple black trousers and a gray tunic. Her thin wrists were bare and her white hair was plaited down her back. She looked younger without her costume and heavy make-up.

Her and her father made an odd pair standing in front of Bebinn. Genzel stooped and listing slightly to one side; Vivian tiny and wispy beside him, looking to be within a few years of each other, though Owen knew Genzel to be at least twenty-five years Vivian's senior.

Bebinn laughed again as though the idea of these two frail, nearly dead, figures opposing her was the most amusing thing in the world. "Now this is something," she said. "My dearest father and darling baby sister coming to help poor Bebinn. I'm afraid you are several decades too late. You both had a chance, more than one I should think, and you both turned away. So why bother now? Have you had your fill of quality family time so soon?"

"We want to help you, Bebinn," said Vivian gently. She took a step forward, palms raised as if she was approaching a wild animal. "Let us make amends, and the three of us can move on together."

Bebinn's eyes narrowed and, in the distance, there was the sound of flapping wings. A steady snap, snap, snap in the dense air as something flew towards them. Owen saw Genzel look skyward, but Bebinn was too busy glowering at her sister.

"Ah," said Bebinn, barely audible over the sound of beating wings. "I see. You've always been preoccupied by death, Vivian. Mother's, mine, but especially your own. I suppose talking to ghosts will do that to you. I would have thought you content here, surrounded by death, but I see you haven't changed. Just as selfish as ever. Always wanting more. You do not wish to truly help me, you want to make sure your own soul is clean enough to move on to whatever exists beyond here." Bebinn spat, her hands balled into fists. "I am not taking care of you any longer, baby sister. I did my part, and I paid the price."

Vivian blinked, confused. "No," she began. "You're mistaken..." The wing beats got louder and Owen instinctively shied into the folds of the tent as Bebinn's fury flew overheard, a dark shadow in a purple-red sky, and alighted at the peak of the crenulated carousel. He saw Lira glance uneasily upward at the sound of talons scraping wood, but she didn't stop playing.

Owen scanned the far off hill that shielded the kelpie paddock from the rest of the carnival. C'mon, Jacks.

"Bebinn," said Genzel. "This is not about us or our souls. You know moving on doesn' matter to me. What matters is that you no longer suffer because of what I did or didn' do. I loved your mother more than my own life. When she died, I was jus' going through the motions, waiting to die so I could join her. It felt like I had nothing left when you and Vivian should have been more than enough—"

Bebinn cut across his words, snarling in a way that was nearly animal. "I notice that when I died you did not seem to experience the same thing. In fact, I would say Vivian made out better for it. You were there for her in the aftermath of my murder, ensuring she married someone kind, visiting your grandchildren at the week's end. Tell me, father, why did everyone seem to get your love except me?"

"I loved you," said Genzel gruffly. "I still do. When you came to cross me over that night, I thought you had heard my prayers and come back so I could tell you how very sorry I was. When you told me, you needed me to carve for you, I turned my head away from everything else because I didn' want to let you down again. But this isn' the way. Come with me to Mount Desider and let me take care of you like I should have done years ago. I wasn' strong enough then. Let me be strong for you now."

"I am strong enough on my own," said Bebinn. Her cold gaze moved between her father and her sister. Genzel's eyes were glassy and Vivian had an expression that was stuck half-way between confusion and dismay. "And I can take care of myself. You both let me die and continued on with your lives, but this—" she spread her arms wide, fingers splayed to encompass the whole carnival, "—this has made me realize I was never truly alive in the human world. I have a purpose here. I can help others who were cast aside, broken, forgotten. And I am not about to let you take that away from me too."

She whirled, gray dress swirling, and shouted, "Lira!" in a voice like a whip crack.

As the two syllables were flung across the midway towards the violinist, Owen saw two horses appear on the hill, one with a rider silhouetted against the sky. They paused for a heartbeat and then turned towards the track that led to the carnival, dust kicking up behind them. Hurry, Owen thought, gripping the flap of the tent. Please hurry.

Owen's ears caught on the note that did it. Goosebumps flared on his skin as the violin gave a shrill cry and the music went from a low, steady rhythm to a tumult of racing, blending notes in jumping pitches that sent his heart crashing into his chest.

Several things happened at once.

Genzel rushed at Bebinn who turned on her heel and drove her elbow into his chest, knocking him to the ground. The fury took flight, aiming for the struggling pair, screaming horribly. Zabaria shouted an unintelligible command to her troops. And the carnival erupted.