Chapter Three: The Fun Before the Storm

So this is where all the people were, I thought to myself. As we crested the hill, the carnival came into view. The first thing I noticed was the people milling about, the second was the thick wall of blue ice that surrounded the encampment, glistening in the early afternoon sun.

We'd looped back up and around after exiting Callisto, heading further upriver. Some kind of rule or statute prevented monsters and dangerous animals from being brought within city limits, with exceptions being made for individuals like the hunter, Tad and his cat-wolf companion. The actual name for the creature was a thylacine, but mine describes it better and is easier to say. By this point, it had gotten underfoot often enough where I was determined to kick the damn thing as hard as I could if it got in the way again. Stumbling while fully encased head to toe in body armor is something you generally want to avoid at all costs.

At this point, you might be wondering: who the hell wears armor to a carnival? I'd like to tell you that, no, it wasn't usual that I'd strut around in my fifty pounds of shiny metal. I'd had a dream, or something, a premonition of danger. That somehow, with the attack on the town earlier that week, it was a prudent choice to make in case of emergency.

But the truth was, I'd gotten to like my suit. Wearing it was almost… comforting. Like I was born for it. Not only did it make me all but impervious to most of the danger I could possibly come across within a small city like this, but as a bonus it masked my gender, race, age and even hair, each of which tended to attract undue attention, as long as I wore my helmet. It also added a couple inches to my height and about fifty percent to my mass, which can be surprisingly important when you're going toe-to-toe with someone. Try pushing over a fat man some time and you'll see what I mean.

Besides, everyone else was doing it, so I didn't feel too uncomfortable.

Taj was very animated as we waited to get in, looking through the gate eagerly and chattering with excitement. "Did I tell you that I am no stranger to the life of a wandering entertainer?" I heard the unmistakable sound of a groan. "I grew up in the traveling menagerie, never knowing my true family. Perhaps it is best this way, for I cannot imagine a better mother than Ursala, the bearded lady, nor a better father than Gregor the strong man, nor a better uncle than Stan the beast tamer, nor a better older sister than Tamitha the fortune teller-"

I tuned out the story, which, in point of fact, had been told us on at least two occasions within the past twenty hours, each time with minor variations and inconsistencies. Instead, I watched a young girl pleading with the ticket salesman who stood like some kind of guardian before the fanciful gate. I looked up, and saw the sign which read: Abandon Hope, All Ye-

No, what it actually said was Quinn's Carnival. Yawn.

The man who greeted us was a snaggle-toothed carney with small, nervous hands, flanked by a pair of muscle-bound strongmen. Snappily dressed in a striped suit, a flamboyant purple scarf and deep read cloak, he needlessly exhorted the people already waiting in line to purchase their admission to line up and buy tickets. He stood on a stool, behind a tall counter. Entry was eight copper. One thing about money in this place; their names for coinage is completely unimaginative.

Amaya, partly hidden beneath a dark grey cowl, eyed the man's neck hungrily. I'd noticed her predisposition towards garish colors, the more violent and shocking, the more fascinating they were to her. I'd caught her looking at my hair once or twice in a way that almost made me fear for my scalp.

I'd listened to the girl pleading and begging to be let in since we'd gotten in line, and felt bad for her. When I approached the heartless ticket salesman, I offered to pay for the girl and a few other children who were lingering nearby. Okay, let's see... eight copper for a ticket, ten copper to a silver, ten silver to a gold, five tickets would come to...

He looked at me with condescendingly polite skepticism. "A...hem? Are you certain, sir, that is wise?" His eyebrows rose astoundingly high on his forehead as he asked, "You realize that, since they have no money themselves, they will make merely make nuisances of themselves when they get inside?"

The others were clustered behind me, waiting, so I was feeling a little rushed. Stupid fucking math! I slipped a golden coin into his jar, muttering "Keep the change," and after staring at the coin for a moment he punched out five tickets and handed them to me with a snaggle-toothed smile, already looking over my shoulder for the next customer. He searched in vain, not finding him until Lodrin cleared his throat gruffly from down below and the seller peered over the counter in surprise.

"You overpaid," Taj pointed out, drowning out the Dwarven oaths that had begun behind us.

"A small tip never hurts, right?" I asked, confused.

"Ah, not so small. You gave him more than the price of admission for you and all those little urchins."

Wow, he was right. They were urchins. "Okay, well whatever," was my reply as I tried to cover my embarrassment. I was seriously starting to regret sleeping through so many math classes; worryingly, this was not the first time. "So he gets a generous tip, then."

He shook his head sadly, the oily smile never leaving his face. "There's a special name for people like you that carnival folk have." He paused dramatically. "It's called a mark."

I didn't respond, knowing him well enough by now to realize an explanation was coming.

"As in, marked for future hustling. And don't think those kids didn't notice, either. Watch your coin purse," he finished ominously.

The sun was still high in the late afternoon sky, the brisk spring air not nearly cold enough to support the immense wall of ice around us. It was a good ten feet high and almost as thick, surrounding the entire perimeter of the carnival that had been set up. It was decidedly strange, and strangely impressive.

The encampment sprawled across the placid river north of town, the surface of which had been frozen solid. Throngs of people wandered about, clutching food, loved ones, or the occasional small, strangey creepy-looking doll. A cluster of tents were set up ahead of us; further on I could see what looked like a large wheel sticking up over some scattered wagons, some of which looked inhabited while others seemed to contain games.

To our left, hugging the undoubtedly magically-constructed wall of ice, a string of more functional appearing wagons were lined up, a few desultory figures shuffling around. Past these, a huge pavillion-style tent rose twenty feet into the air, a flag at the top displaying a mug of some kind of foaming beverage displayed for all to see as it snapped in the wind.

Amaya pointed to the right, where a freshly constructed wooden bridge spanned out over the frozen river, leading to a mixed group of tents and wagons. The wind shifted, and I could make out a heady mixture of mouth-watering smells. The grey lady said, simply, "I want pie."

Too bad for her, after some intense discussion we voted down food in favor of checking out the freak show, since it was on the way. I couldn't keep from rubbing my hands together like some evil villain; I'd never gotten to see an actual freak show before.

It certainly lived up to its title. I was a little worried at first, when the "dog girl" came out and I realized she was merely an unfortunately ugly woman with some extra hair glued on. It got better when the proprietor pulled out the "Living Dead Baby," which was a disgusting, moving fetus-looking monstrosity contained within large glass jar. I cast out my senses, and was alarmed to find that the thing emanated a foul aura. I'd hoped it was being moved by strings or something.

Just as the main attraction was about to be presented, Amaya paid the man to be able to hold the disgusting jar with the nasty floating thing inside. I felt myself shudder as I noticed her seeming to caress the surface of the glass, staring at the creature within. Shaking my head, I kept a worried eye on her until the ground began to shake.

Looking over, I heard the crowd that had formed collectively gasp as a gigantic figure stepped out of an almost comically small tent. Towering high, high above the rest of us, the creature stood up... and up, and up. It's massive shadow engulfed the crowd, blotting out the sun that had crept halfway down to the horizon. Seriously, the thing was a good four meters tall. And twice as tall has a way of looking twenty times as tall when you're standing at something's feet.

The creature carried a large sack in one hand, lumbering slowly toward us. As people around me began to back up fearfully, I suddenly wondered if I should be joining them. Or perhaps even pulling my sword… my hand was itching to yank it out of the wire mesh that had been placed on it earlier. The creature's body was oddly misshapen; the tree-trunk legs, massive body and long, swinging arms gave it a distinctly primitive appearance, and it's face reminded me of the filthy green-skinned race with their pig snouts, beady eyes and jagged teeth known as orcs. But the way its head sat on the shoulders, not in the center where the spine would be, but off to the side... it looked very odd.

As it approached, I realized what was wrong. Something was missing. I looked carefully, seeing the wide stump that sat to the side of the thing's head. It placed the large leather bag at its feet, and beckoned the children forward. Hesitantly, they approached, but scurried backwards when the bag shifted, untouched.

"Ghaar, no worry, wee uns," the giant bellowed, a hint of mirth in its gravelly voice. "Come close. See wut's innit." The children approached, gathering around, as the creature's massive, thick fingers undid the simple knot around the bag. He opened it up, the kids peering inside-

"AAHHH!" "EEEEK!" A half dozen screams burst out as the children jumped and fled as the giant roared with laughter. I may have smiled myself, and am certain I did when it bent over and picked up a large, dark object from the ground.

"It's me head," the thing grinned, holding out the dead-looking thing to the crowd, and applause broke out, along with some shaky laughter.

I'd never seen an ettin before. I'd only heard about giants; ettins were unique in that they possessed two heads, equally autonomous. Except for sharing a body, I guess. I appreciated the irony: in this case, the freak being a one-headed ettin.

Of course I tried to feel if he had what I'd come to think of as an "evil aura". To my surprise, the creature did not. It conversed with us for a short time, then retreated into its tiny tent.

Amaya spent the next half-hour purchasing pie after pie, consuming the first with startling violence and dropping the rest, nearly a dozen, into her magical bag, "For later." She also purchased a colorful red scarf off of a woman for an exorbitant price, despite numerous loud protests from Taj, who by the end of the deal wore a look of disgusted dismay.

Then we got to the games. I was kind of disappointed; there was a big wheel to spin, almost like on that one show, and there was a ring toss deal with, you guessed it, bottles.

Tad shouldered his way past me, having made a point of making "colorful" comments about every single woman we seemed to see, loudly and in front of me. Mocking some of their attributes, grotesquely admiring others. It was getting annoying. Anyway, he marched over to the spinning thing, a banner overhead proclaiming it to be "The Titan's Wheel".

"Lemme show you what a man can do," he muttered challengingly. I rolled my eyes, but my hand nevertheless crept towards the hilt of my sword before I stopped it. I watched, knowing that the man was indeed strong. Confidently, he gave the giant wooden circle a spin with all his might… and I watched the thing click four times before stopping.

There were, perhaps, twenty segments to the wheel. He hadn't even made it halfway around. Not even halfway halfway, whatever mysterious fraction that is called. From inside my helmet, I grinned wildly. This was too perfect.

Mumbling something about "fixed," and "rigged," a stoop-shouldered Tad shuffled away from the wheel, and I gave him a friendly shoulder-in-the-chest as I walked by him, paying the man at the wheel several silver for the privilege. That's how they got you, here. The price of admission was cheap, but everything else was sky-high.

Come on, burning man, I thought fervently. I know you don't answer prayers, but all I want is to be able to show up this pig of an ass… I gripped a peg halfway up the wheel. The thing was, indeed, titanic; easily three or four meters. Up close, it appeared much more massive. Holding my breath, I pulled down with all my might-

I stepped back, watching the thing spin around. Two full rotations; the attendant watched, goggle-eyed, as it passed the starting position for the second time. Less jovial than a few moments ago, the man silently handed me two silvery tokens. "What's this?" I inquired.

"Game tokens; you get them for winning the games here," the man explained, eyeing a couple of potential customers standing behind us.

"What are they for?" I said, more demandingly.

He looked back at me. "You turn them in for prizes. The big prize are these special dolls. They're in the commissary tent, go ask 'em over there."

I took off my helmet so that the annoying human got a good look at my smirk. Then I batted my eyes prettily, pocketing my winnings. I heard someone sputtering behind me. "B-blue hair? Is that really-" and left, determined to ignore any attention I drew.

I walked over to the ring toss game, watching Taj expertly flick a few of the rings into the massive grid of bottles, each one plinking away. He bought another batch, again with no result. I couldn't help but wonder at his supposed worldliness as the wiry man bought yet another batch of rings. I decided to join him, even though it looked impossible.

The first two bounced out of the grid entirely. I bit down on a slight sense of irritation; the smile my failure brought to Taj's conniving face had been my motivation to begin with. I tossed the third, and watched it bounce… directly on to the bottle that appeared to be in the very center.

"What?" cried Taj. Remember, Taj is the boastful, talkative rogue human who has two daggers and a kind of sleazy charm. Tad, my earlier opponent, was a sour-smelling ranger woodsman with a pet cat-wolf and a large two handed sword. Anyway, it was Taj who was looking at me. I watched the man behind the counter reach down, and take the ring off of the special, expensive looking bottle… only to grab the plain looking one that stood next to it.

"Ah, it was that one," Taj pointed out before I could think to, his sharp eyes and worldly ways allowing him to notice the man's sleight of hand. The game worker shot the wiry man an evil glance, and picked up the proper bottle, handing it to me with a decidedly surly expression. It made the victory all the sweeter.

I couldn't believe my luck. I'd never won anything before! And now, twice in on day… "So… what is this?" I asked, before turning the bottle to read the label. The flowing, elaborate cursive script was clearly Elvish, and I could read it clearly. It was just a name, though, not something I'd assign any meaning to. Taj whistled, leering over my shoulder.

"That's some four hundred some year old elf firewine," he whispered, and was somehow holding the bottle up to the sun, inspecting it. I glanced at my hands, which hung stupidly in the air before me, empty. "Uncorked, wax intact… you can see the magical seal still present here."

"Uhh, okay," I said uncertainly.

"It's worth a lot of money," the rogue explained. It was my turn to whistle when he mentioned a price. I walked over to Amaya, who was playing with her scarf and had evidence of more pie on her cheeks. I mimed wiping at her cheeks, but she just stared at me in confusion. I placed my ornate bottle inside the bag at her feet, watching it get sucked into, essentially, another dimension. It seems utterly crazy, but I have a vivid recollection of a black haired evil-eyed girl who did exactly the same thing with a magical shield. Bizarre, right? Still, every time I reach into that bag, it's like an itch running down my spine.

Next up was a really cool maze. And not because it, too, was made entirely of ice. The place refracted with a zillion or so rainbows as the sun pierced the smooth, crystalline structure. As we entered, the man to extorted more of my dwindling silver from me lay down the only rule. "If you're not out of there in half an hour, we let the minotaur loose." He looked at us strangely at the mixture of eager smiles and blank, unfazed stares. Muttering to himself about "crazy locals" he let us through the gate.

The maze seemed to be nothing but dead ends. Tad led us in, being a supposed expert tracker, but when we passed the same spot twice we made him stop. I got us to the center, where we found the golden ring we needed to claim our prize, but getting out was trickier, and eventually the grey-skinned Amaya backtracked us and found the right path out.

The man at the end gave us each a pair of tokens, laughing about how so few of those who'd gone into the maze had come out. This side, at least. There was, indeed, a monstrous three meter tall man, obnoxiously muscular, with hoofed feet and a massive, villainous-looking bull head. I definitely felt a nasty aura coming off that thing, never mind the smell.

As we walked back to where all the tents and stuff were, there was a collective gasp among the crowd. Since leaving the maze, we'd seen a marked increase of attendees, and the throng surrounding us began looking where some people were pointing. Feeling like a lemming, I turned my head, and watched an exotically dressed man stride down the path, people parting before him.

Suddenly the man stopped. Whipping around, long cloak fluttering behind him, he leapt high into the air, coming down on a stack of crates before pushing off, landing on one foot, balanced atop a high pole... a pole, I noticed, that appeared to be suspiciously purposeless. Continuing his performance, the man spun around, and there were two small swords in his hands now as he twirled, flashing darkly in the midday sun in an intricate, interwoven display of swordsmanship. He paused, then hurled himself off of the pole, somersaulting the fifteen or so feet to the ground, rolling as he landed. He stood, and caught both swords as they spun through the air just before they would have impaled a suddenly-frightened-looking onlooker.

People began to clap and cheer, and I couldn't help but feel impressed at the man's acrobatics. Before I could get a real good look at him, though, he was gone. Literally, as in vanished before my eyes. The crowd let out a collective gasp, then began applauding thunderously.

"That was Quinn," a man nearby explained. "Isn't he amazing?"

Quinn, of Quinn's Carnival, perhaps? My mind is like a steel trap sometimes, I know.

"He had magic all over him," Amaya commented casually. We glanced over at the quiet, ethereal woman. "I checked," she admitted. Casting magic on other people without their permission or awareness was generally frowned upon, and rightly so. Even spells as "innocuous" as those designed to simply detect the presence of magical auras.

We approached the commissary tent, and decided to take a look. There were various pieces of crap being offered as prizes for one or two of the tokens. Pure garbage. Then, there were the dolls.

There was just something… off about them. They kind of creeped me out. But hell, I had the tokens, so what was I supposed to do? I turned them in, hastily stuffing the vaguely-ugly thing inside the sorceress's miraculous backpack.

Wandering outside, we saw the brightly colored "Pleasure Tent" in the distance. The dwarf wanted to "Get his beard wet," which, after my shocked outburst, he explained meant he intended to quench his thirst with some strong ale. The others were not so circumspect, Taj and Tad nudging each other with their elbows.

"I want one of those dolls," said Amaya. Strangely, Lodrin, then the humans, and even the dour-faced Malgos agreed with her sentiment. We decided to go back and try our hand at the games again.

I won again at the Titan's Wheel. This was after Malgos had made three unsuccessful attempts, and my sense victory was deflated a bit by his obvious shame and disappointment. Amaya must have done something tricky, because she too succeeded at getting the wheel to go all the way around. The attendant gave us the tokens and politely asked us to fuck off, never wanting to see our ugly faces again.

We went back to the prize tent. This time, everyone got dolls. After a few moments holding them, though, every last one ended up in the bag, except for Lodrin's, who he gave to a random girl he saw as we walked by.

Their masculinity restored, the men decided they had important things to attend to in the seedy-looking "Pleasure Tent". Amaya and I could only shrug in resigned disgust. Better them than us, was probably our mutual thought. Wordlessly, we entered the nearby refreshment tent, and ordered.

"Wanna share?" I asked. It was possible to use magic to cure the wooziness that came from indulging in too much drink, but no magic would keep you from passing out, and if you got too wasted spells were difficult and potentially dangerous. One thing about being a girl; your serving of liquor is almost always generous.

A few minutes later, a large mug of some red-brown fluid before us, we took turns sipping from the vessel. It was thick, with a faint, unpleasant vegetable taste underneath the pint or so of honey that must have gone into it. The sweetness was delicious, and I gulped the drink eagerly for a moment before handing it back.

I sighed in contentment, kicking up my feet. Without the men, it was almost peaceful.