When she woke up, Tilly found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling in an equally unfamiliar room. Pushing herself up on her elbows proved to be a terrible idea, as her bones felt like they had been replaced with dull knives and the thing draped over her—a man's canvas coat in a worrying shade of police uniform brown—seemed to weigh no less than a thousand pounds. She sank back down. The cot beneath her squeaked in protest.
There were metal bars on the far side of the room, separating her from that same tin man as before, who was doing his best impression of an officer definitely not asleep on the job, cheek propped on a knuckle over a set of papers. A single snore bolted him upright. He blinked blearily, casting around, his attention finally settling on her.
"So you're awake," he said, standing from his desk. A set of keys jingled from his belt.
Jail.
Tilly was in jail.
The thought of it was enough to give her the strength to sit up. The coat drifted over her knees, pooling on the floor.
The officer cleared his throat in warning. "You, uh, might wanna pick that back up, missy."
She stared at him in confusion but did as she was told. Smoothing the coat back over her torso, she noticed the cause of his concern: A split seam in her dress revealed much of her petticoat, lace edge caked with dirt from her tussle with the Ferris wheel. "Oh, that's just my crinoline, sir."
His eyes were locked pointedly on a window. "That may be true, but you're still compromised. Be glad we didn't slap you with an indecent exposure charge on top of everything else."
"'Everything else?'" The air in Tilly's lungs flash froze. "Where's Sprout? What'd you do to my dog?"
He nodded to a door across from him. "They're both in the next room over."
"What're we in for?" She balled her fists into the coat. "You can't just detain us for nothing. That's gotta be illegal."
"Calm down. Yain't being detained. Think of it more as..." He grasped at the air as though he could pluck the right word from it. "Protective custody. You were unconscious when we arrived and we need you to answer a few questions, is all."
"Well all right then, but what are you protecting me from?" she asked.
"Lot of talk going around town." The cell door squealed open. He beckoned her out. "Reckon everybody knew the Lafayettes did some magic here and there, but what they did in their own home was their own business. But wrassling with that Ferris wheel like that—"
Tilly's voice had an edge to it. "That wheel would've crushed half the town before it stopped."
"We realize that, miss, and we're much obliged." He held up a hand again, annoyance simmering in his tone. "But knowing there's some fey-blood walking round these parts with enough power to stop three hundred some odd tons of freewheeling metal dead in its tracks has got people, well, a touch unsettled. It's really for your own good we put you in here 'til you recovered."
"That's mighty thoughtful of you. Thank you kindly." She examined her fuzzy reflection in the tin man's metal badge. "So what do you need to know?"
"Right." The officer was all too happy to return to his desk. Papers rustled. He clicked a pen open, closed, then open again, prepared to take notes as he read off the information. "When did you arrive at the fair this morning?"
"Don't rightfully know." She folded the coat and laid it on the edge of the desk. "Maybe four or five AM? It was just getting daylight."
He nodded. The sound of pen scratching against paper was like an animal clawing at a wall in the otherwise deafening quiet. "Unusual time to arrive, seeing as the fair didn't open until eight."
"Yes sir, but I had no other means of transportation other than walking, and I didn't know how long it'd take me carrying that big pumpkin," Tilly explained. "Rather be three hours too early than a minute too late."
He peered up from his notes. "Awful punctual for somebody your age."
"Thank you, sir." She straightened what remained of her dress. "I always like to be prepared for things."
The officer made a noise that let Tilly know that it had not been a compliment. "So you got to the fair before sunrise. What did you do next?"
She wiped a bedraggled strand of hair from her face, its surface reflecting the birch paneled walls of the small room. "Settled down under that tree and took a nap. The one you found me under this morning, sir."
"That's right, yep." He wrote out another line. "But nothing in-between? Nobody around, whole fair to yourself... It'd be awful tempting to jump the fence and take a lookie-loo, wouldn't it?"
"No, sir," Tilly laughed. "By then I was so tired I couldn't see straight. Had no gumption to galavant around the fair."
The rise and fall of his eyebrows put a trio of wrinkles in the tin man's forehead. "You got anybody who can verify that story?"
"Ain't nothing fictional about it, officer. That's the truth."
He slapped the desk, rattling a collection of half-drank coffee mugs. "Just answer the question, Ms. Lafayette."
"I..." She worked her dog. "Booger can tell you."
The tin man gave her a flat look. "Booger?"
"That's my dog," she said.
"Right, yes," he said with an infinitely deep sigh. "A half-breed Wolf. Not exactly a prime character witness."
"'Character witness?' I—" Tilly shook her head. "Sir, you best tell me what this is all about. You putting me on trial?"
"All right, then, I'll cut to the chase." The officer dropped his notes flat onto the desk. "After your little incident at the fair, that wheel was inspected. Showed signs of improper construction resulting in catastrophic failure."
"That may be true, but I got no idea what that has to do with me," she said.
"Royal Entertainment says the ride was built to specification and passed for safety this morning," he continued, "which suggests that it was tampered with. You were at the right place and the right time to do it."
"Are you kidding?!" Tilly spat.
"Calm down, Ms. Lafayette, or I'll lock you away for real." His hand slammed on the desk a second time. "It's been known that your kind don't like iron machinery too much. Prone to sabotage, cause accidents—"
She bristled under the accusation. "Gremlins cause accidents, sir."
"Be that as it may, it's plenty convenient that you just so happen to have the ability to save the day, ain't it? Right place, right time?"
"Do you think I ruined my best dress for—for attention?" she hissed, all sense of propriety dropped from her tone. "That's the best explanation you can come up with? Them rides are put together and torn apart over the course of a couple hours and a dozen men. Heck, I saw 'em this morning putting the foundation together, and—"
The words died on her lips.
"And?" The officer looked up expectantly.
"—And he dropped his wrench." She staggered into the chair across from the officer, arm slung over the back. She blinked, trying to gather her thoughts. "He dropped his wrench and it hit one of the other workers beneath him. There was a big to-do about it. Do you think they might've forgotten what they were doing in all the commotion? Skipped a step?"
His lip curled, rearranging his notes. "Could be. Don't explain why it passed inspection."
"They got a deadline to have that thing operational," Tilly said with exasperation. "Lost time means lost profits."
He gave a begrudging nod. A moment later he was opening the door for her. "You're good to go, Ms. Lafayette, but don't skip town. Y'all have a good evening, now."
Sprout bolted from her seat. Booger perked an ear, curled up on the floor. Her tail thumped excitedly. GP wasn't with them.
"Everything all right?" her sister asked.
Smile faltering, Tilly nodded. She glanced back towards the office, but the tin man was already back inside, door slammed shut behind him. "I think so. Let's go home."
***
From the moment they crested the last hill before home, Tilly knew something was wrong.
"The house is dark," she whispered, the pads of her fingers caught on chapped lips. For some reason this revelation was more terrifying than a dozen runaway Ferris wheels.
Booger stopped, a single hoof held midair as though she had forgotten her currently equine nature, instead a bird dog pointing to fallen prey. Her ear twitched, listening, waiting.
"Maybe Mama went to bed," Sprout said, but it seemed it was more to convince herself than her sister. Her arms around Tilly's waist tightened.
"Could be." Tilly urged the horse on, heart and hoofbeats thundering as one. "But it seems like she would've left a lantern on for us. She knew we were coming back tonight."
The road smoked behind Booger as she took off towards the small farmhouse perched among vast shade trees and sprawling fields of uncut rampion. Tilly rolled from Booger's back as they came to the few worn flagstones that blazed a trail through the tall grass, bounding up the ancient front steps. The screen door banged in its frame. Her shadow fell long and thin against the column of moonlight that leaked in behind her.
"Mama?" she called into the void.