Astrid Darby and the Circus in the Sky Page 9

strange, inhuman contortions to the loud, cheerful music.

  As we watched the flying tumblers, the aerialists flew overhead and seemed to blink out as they disappeared behind curtains or into the shadowed areas of the tent, which had dimmed so imperceptibly, I had not realised there were shadows at all, though they certainly must have gone off somewhere; they had not simply disappeared.

  The lights were dimming, and the exotic throng in the ring was thinning as more of the performers disappeared, unnoticed by the audience as they watched the flying tumblers. Soon, there was but one performer left, a woman with a long, blonde braid. She was not brightly dressed as the others. She wore a sort of sari woven of such deep, rich black, it seemed to blend into the darkness beyond as though she were constructed merely of floating head, arms, feet and the slightest scandalous flash of bare abdomen. A turban of sparkling gold rested upon her head, and she held a long, slender flute of some strange, glowing and almost vibrating metal that gave the impression it was as alive as she.

  The music died, and the woman began to play. The melody was slow, lilting and insidious. It was as though the tune had insinuated itself into my thoughts and my bones, as though my body was compelled to move as hers moved, swaying and slithering like a snake rising from its basket. I could not see the other guest, but I felt movement in the crowd, a large, collective shiver that passed through us all. Before the woman, a slithering, swaying shape rose from out of the shadows, and I realised it was, in fact, a snake. It moved in the same motion, with the same rhythm as the audience, as I became aware with a certain unease that my own body was moving.

  I stilled myself instantly, clutching my fingers together in my lap. I shook my head to clear it of the melody, and, though the snake charmer still played, the tune did not seize me as it had before. There was something not quite right. I nudged Asher beside me. His eyes were glazed as they followed the snake charmer's fluid, snake-like movements, but he blinked as he felt my elbow in his rib. He shook his head as I had done. I was relieved to see cognisance return to his face.

  Asher peered around at the guests. It was difficult to see their expressions in the darkness, but their bodies still swayed with the music, as though they were still caught up, as though they had not, as we had, realised there was something unusual about the snake charmer's peculiar instrument. He looked back at me with a disquieted expression that I was certain my own face mirrored. I spun suddenly away from him to examine my young wards.

  Xander and Juliana were not, as the others, rapt. In the faint, flickering light, I could see my young cousin frowning in concentration as though attempting to uncover the secret behind the audience's eerie attention. I was most grateful they were clever, and their heads were quite sound. They were not the sort to be taken in by a spellbinding circus performer.

  Satisfied that my entourage was suitably rooted in reality, I watched the woman closely, as though I might deduce the nature of her spell. There was a strange, crackling sensation in the air. It seemed loaded and breathless, as though something was about to happen. The woman did not seem aware of her affect. She stared almost fixedly at the black snake twisting and shimmying before her.

  Then I heard a noise. It was oddly familiar, though I could not place it at first. It was so soft, I could barely discern it over the charmer's insidious melody. “Astrid,” Xander hissed. His voice was barely above a whisper, as though he feared someone might leap out at him from the darkness if they overheard him speak. “Do you hear that?”

  “Yes. I hear something. But what is it?”

  “It's clockworks. Ticking.”

  I frowned. So it was. Now that he pointed it out, I could hear the methodic tick tick tick of the works, and then there was a sort of screeching, grinding noise, a soft subtle sound that the charmer's high, lovely notes barely concealed. As I listened for it, it became easier to distinguish. The ticking seemed, as I watched, to mirror the snake's eerie movements, its strange, sinuous rhythm as though it, too, was conducted by the melody. An troubled sensation roiled in the pit of my stomach.

  The music ended as abruptly as it had begun, and silence rang across the tent. I listened for the grinding clockworks, but they, too, seemed to have quieted. Had they been my imagination? I did not think so, for Xander, too, had heard them and we were not, the pair of us, prone to hallucinations, auditory or otherwise. The snake seemed to still, and then it dropped back into the shadows, coiling upon itself. The charmer reached towards it, and it slithered up her arm, wrapped around her like a bracelet.

  And then, once again, the lights went out.

  I leaned towards Asher. “I want to get a look at that machine while everyone is distracted.”

  “Machine?”

  “The clockwork. Didn't you hear it?”

  He was silent a moment. Then he clutched my fingers in his. “Yes. I wondered what that was. I thought it was part of the music.”

  “No. Xander is quite sure it was a clockwork. He is most reliable in these matters.”

  He squinted through the darkness beyond me. It was impossible to see Vera, but she was murmuring softly beside Juliana. I did not think she was speaking to the young lady. The other guests seemed to be muttered softly, as well. Perhaps they were discussing the experience or perhaps they had transcended to hitherto unrealised planes of consciousness that were, somehow, speaking back to them.

  “Juliana, will you be so kind as to inform my mother that Astrid and I are going to take a look around?”

  Juliana was silent moment, and then I heard her speak to Vera in a low voice, as though she were speaking to a very young child or a senile old person. “Oh, you go on, darling,” Vera replied in a slow, dreamy sort of voice, and I suspected she had not shaken the snake charmer's trance.

  “She doesn't sound quite herself,” Juliana whispered.

  “I will be fine,” Vera added. In the flare of flickering torch light that once again flooded the centre ring, her expression looked dreamy and vague. “I'll just stay here and enjoy the show. Oh! They have a tightrope walker now. Look, darling.”

  I frowned. “Xander, we're going to attempt to discover the source of the ticking sound.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You, Astrid? Do you believe you will succeed?”

  “It is most unlikely I will be able to discern the clockwork from the ship's ballonet, if we're to be completely truthful.”

  “Juliana and I will accompany you, then.”

  “Are you quite certain?”

  “We have already seen the funambulists, and they were quite amusing. I am not entirely certain there is not something quite wrong with this circus. The audience is acting rather strangely. I am beginning to heartily believe our client might be correct in his suspicions.”

  “Indeed.”

  Whilst the light was dim and the audience was thoroughly engaged with the tightrope walker, who wobbled and swayed and seemed likely to plunge to his death at any moment, Xander and Juliana followed Asher and myself through the shimmering red curtain and out of the arena. The lounge was most fortunately deserted, and the air seemed lighter, more breathable than it had been in the circus arena. We could speak normally, for there was no one to overhear. Nevertheless, we did not raise our voices above a whisper; if Eitenne had been correct in his suspicions about his master, it was not unlikely there were listening devices about the place, another large, featureless man waiting to pounce upon the first utterance of sedition.

  “Juliana and I will attempt to locate the ticking apparatus,” Xander murmured softly, as though, he too, suspected there were listeners all about. “If we discover it, we will catch you up.”

  I nodded. “Ace. Asher and I will see what else is about. Meet us back in the arena in...” I removed my gold pocket watch from the breast pocket of my dress. “Half an hour should suffice. I shouldn't wonder our hosts may deduce our hidden agenda if we are much longer.”

  “That, I suspect, would be very unfortunate,” Juliana murmured.

  “I am in
agreement. Step lively, then. Time runs short.”

  My two young wards spun smartly on their heels as though in perfect agreement of their destination. I had little idea where such a machine as we heard from the arena may be located, but they must have, as often is the case, known more than I. Perhaps they had discerned the direction of the noise already or had spotted something quite queer upon our arrival that had drawn their attention.

  Asher smiled and offered me his arm again. “Shall we, then, Astrid? I am most eager to discover what secrets lurk in the shadows at the circus in the sky.”

  “As am I.”

  The walls of the lounge were draped in the shimmering red curtains through which we had entered the arena. It was not the only door hidden behind the curtain, however. Some were locked, through which I suspected the performers entered and exited the lounge. I was eager to peek inside the rooms, but Asher flatly refused to pry the locks. Behind the curtain directly across from the arena entrance, however, was a large, shining brass door with the words Oddities. In very small, unobtrusive hand-letting were the words: Beware ye who enter, lest thine faint heart give way and carry thee off into the next world.

  “A bit dramatic, do you not think?” I asked. Asher's mouth turned up slightly.

  “Ah, I believe we have come upon the infamous side show. What do you think we will find in there?