Spurned

  Chapter Sixteen

  Malone ran up to her doorway and shouted, “It had better be done by tomorrow morning or you'll be left behind!”

  The roadie she was shouting at shoved between two groups of people practicing their acts and disappeared.

  Malone's gaze alighted on them. Her wispy hair was piled atop her head and her face looked puffy from drink or lack of sleep.

  She snapped, “What do you want?”

  Kara nearly lost her nerve. It was strange, how she faced down a demon a few hours ago, then a rhone addict, yet this frazzled woman made her nervous...

  “Can I talk to you? Privately?”

  Malone sighed and stepped back into her wagon. Kara squeezed Lyla's elbow and whispered, “Stand here looking vacant. Or sit in the dirt staring at the sky. Improvise. Okay?”

  Lyla's face drifted away from her. Kara smiled and let go of her elbow.

  “I haven't got all day, Kara!”

  She hurried into the wagon house then shuffled her feet and pretended to be a little sad. “It's about Lyla.” She edged aside a bit so Malone could get a good view of poor, crazy Lyla.

  “What about her?” Malone was sitting back down at her overflowing desk. It was crammed across from her elegant divan. She was staring at a teetering pile of parchment like it was a nest of vipers ready to strike.

  “She can't pickpocket. Trust me on that.”

  Malone looked up and opened her lips, which were painted a bold red. Too red for her pale complexion and light hair.

  Kara rushed on. “She's soft in the head. She does not have the wits or speed to be a thief. But she spent all morning with Justi and the elephants, and I saw her. She seems to have a talent with the beasts. Look at her, Malone. She isn't strong enough to do roadie work. But she is really, really into the animals and I am sure she will work hard keeping them happy and well fed so they will do a great job in the acts.”

  “I don't have the time to hold her hand. I can't manage a soft-headed girl-”

  Kara used her last and most effective bargaining tactic. “Just a little time. See how she helps with the animals while we are traveling. You know how uneasy the heat makes them. Justi will need all the help he can get. A few days is all she needs to prove herself. If she can't handle it, I know the steward at the Brahm estate. I am sure he can find work for her there.”

  Malone glanced past her and at Lyla. Kara sneaked a peek over her shoulder and saw her friend looking so forlorn and dreamy she could break the heart of a stone statue. Her arms and legs were stick thin, her bruises bold under the bright summer sun. Her gorgeous face, touched with the innocence of a small child.

  “Bah!” muttered Malone as she looked back at the pile of parchment. She waved her hand at Kara. “Fine. The day after we are at the new camp we'll figure out if she stays or goes.”

  “Thank you, Malone! You won't regret it, I promise!”

  “Never make promises you can't keep. Go on. I'm busy.”

  Kara turned to leave. Malone added dryly, “You didn't have to put her in rags and smear her with dirt to move my heart.”

  Kara's cheeks reddened and she mumbled 'bye' as she hopped down the steps. She grabbed Lyla's shoulder and veered her towards the lunch line. She whispered, “Let's get something to eat. Then you can go tell Justi you are working for him.”

  A smile wandered over her face. She whispered, “Good. I was meant to be here. I have much work to do.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “It is not only the animals that need tending in this dark carnival.”

  Kara sighed. Much as she liked Lyla, she constantly said the oddest things.

  ...

  She slipped behind her last mark. It had been a fantastic draw tonight. When the carnies knew they were moving on, they could risk a lot more stealing.

  She had made six trips to Malone's wagon to drop off the pilfered purses. One had a diamond ring in it, and she hoped it was not an engagement ring...

  Kara was in Icari's crowd, and they were mesmerized. He was truly spectacular, making the scarves dance with him as he used his minor illusion magics. He was wearing a green mask with a leaf design on it. He became something surreal on stage, a man of mystery and floating beauty...

  She shook her head. She had to hurry. It was so easy to be distracted by his serpentine movements, his heft and flow. She whisked her small knife out and focused on the mark before her. Tall, average looking, thick sideburns. She sidled up and watched him raise his arm then bite into a candied apple. She hoped his shirt hem lifted up enough for her to see his pouch...

  His shirt did lift and she frowned. He was one of the few who wore a belt, which was a piece of leather cleverly sewn to wrap around his front and tie at his back. They had narrow pockets to tuck coins in, and were much more secure than purses.

  She lowered her knife, hesitant. Why was he marked? Belts were too difficult to get to. She glanced at his shoulder and saw the tell-tale chalk smear.

  She took a deep breath and just as her knife darted up and sliced through the leather cord, she realized her mistake.

  This was a trap. Likely by that man who had caught her the other night.

  A gloved hand spun her around and she found herself face to face with one of the King's Guard. Her heart thundering in her chest, she glanced around and saw three more guards stepping up, each with their sword drawn. They usually prowled the carnival, there more to make the citizens happy than anything else, but it seemed they had finally stirred to do their duty.

  One of these duties was to cut a thief's hand off if they were caught in the act.

  The enormous man that had caught her a few nights ago shoved his way between the guards. “That's the one.” He sneered at her. “Told you I'd find you. You're a stupid girl with clever fingers.”

  The 'mark' stepped around and dangled his cut belt in front of her. He took a bite of his apple and grinned as he chewed. “Shame to cut off her hands. Perhaps she could be put in stocks for a few days.” He winked at her and took another bite. Juice ran down his chin.

  She was frozen for a bare second, then forced herself to act before the King's Law left her a cripple and a marked thief. Did she dare attack a guard, risking torture and execution if her plan went astray?

  She could not fail her mother, she decided. She was so close to freeing her and could not be stopped now by being crippled and possibly even arrested. And having decided, she sprung into action.

  She dropped to her knees and yanked back hard. The guard's grip on her loosened slightly. She brought the tip of her knife up, quick and silent, and dug it into the meat of his wrist.

  He took his hand off her and she barreled into his knees with her elbow. He fell over her and she scuttled, crablike, past the other guards. She pushed forward as blood surged in her head so hard she thought it would crack like an egg. If she could just wriggle into the crowd, she could disappear.

  Two gloved hands grabbed her shoulders and threw her on her back. Her head hit the ground and pain exploded in her skull. The agony rushed down to her stomach and formed a trembling knot.

  Six angry male faces stared down at her. They seemed so far away. She blinked as blackness spread in her mind. Was she dreaming? Was her head open? Did her brains leak out onto the ground, dribbling on crusty orange rinds and cigar stubs?

  She took her three deep breaths and the pain and confusion coiled back the tiniest bit. She gathered her elbows under her, determined to try escaping again.

  “What is the problem?”

  The voice was cool and familiar. It was Mr. Hither. She had never once seen the man leave his wagon. Was he here to witness her fall?

  One of the guards drew back and said in a friendly tone, “Mr. Hither. This girl is a pickpocket. I saw her cut a man's belt with my own eyes.”

  “I see.” She saw him looking down on her with wry amusement. He said, “Rise, child.”

  She stood up slowly, her foggy brain trying to interpret the subtle clue he h
ad given her. He hand not called her by name. He had said 'child.' So he was pretending not to know her. Clue number one. Why was he helping her? If you got caught, you could not admit you worked for the carnival. You were fired the second a King's Guard caught you. So, if she was technically fired, why had he materialized from the crowd to bother with her?

  She stood there and waited to find out. Mr. Hither gave her a grave look. “Why were you here? Watching the illusionist who dances with the scarves?”

  She lowered her head and played along. He wanted her to be a carnival patron, so that is what she would be. “Yes.”

  “Lies!” shouted the large man. “She works for you, Hither. Everyone knows this tired, two-bit carnival is filled with your thieves and miscreants!”

  She peeked under her lashes to see Mr. Hither giving the man a stare that would have stopped the sun in its heavenly rotation. She then peeked at the guards and saw two of them sharing uncomfortable looks. They knew she worked for Hither, but perhaps the large man had bribed them better than Hither...

  Mr. Hither turned back to her after the large man glanced away, his face pale. “You have witnesses against you, child. Do you deny that you took what was not yours?”

  She made up a lie on the spot. Her head was clear enough for thinking to pull the act off now, though the agony still sat in a dull lump behind her eyes. She raised her face and pointed a finger at the planted mark and forced a fake country accent. “He stole first! That was my dad's belt. There's only one like it. It disappeared off him a few hours ago. I was just taking back what was mine! He got no right to it!”

  Mr. Hither gave her a small smile. He turned to the guards. “She is my honored patron on the last night of the carnival. Surely such a young beauty as her did no wrong. Let us settle this amicably.”

  The glitter of gold appeared between one breath and the next. It disappeared into the guard's coat. She dared to hope the worst was over.

  The large man barked, “That's a lie!” He had apparently gotten his courage back. “She's a carny thief and probably a whore too! Arrest her and cut off her hands!”

  The head guard shook his head. “Seems like there has been a mistake.”

  “Seems like nothing of the sort to me. Seems like you lot are bought and sold by this slimy carny operator!” He was bellowing now, and Kara saw that he was attracting more and more attention, which is probably what he wanted.

  The guard raised his sword tip and said, “Are you accusing a King's Guard of loose morals?”

  The large man's beard bristled and he muttered something under his breath to the planted mark. They both gave Kara mutual looks of loathing before melting into the crowd.