Doug spit a huge wad of gross tobacco spit on the ground, right near Zeke’s feet. “We need to get rid of those damn tigers.”
“Doug, we’re not getting rid of anything,” Brendon told him firmly. “And the carnival opens in a couple hours, so why don’t you go back over and calm down your people?”
“The carnival is still on?” Doug laughed darkly. “You must be joking.”
“I’m not.” Brendon turned to survey the crowd around us, speaking to them. “Seth was hurt, and we’re all sorry about that, but that doesn’t change anything. We still have a job to do, and yesterday, we hardly made enough money to get us out of this state, let alone put food on the table. We need to go back to work.”
Doug looked like he wanted to say more, but he just shook his head and started trudging back toward his camp.
“With Seth out of commission, we have to find something else to fill his strongman act,” Brendon continued.
“Luka could step in,” Hutch suggested. “He has his sword swallowing and fire breathing.”
“I could work with Luka,” Roxie offered. She’d been sitting on the steps in front of her Airstream, taking it all in, but she stood up now. “Make it a bit more elaborate and exciting.”
I thought about mentioning the crossbow trick I’d been working on with Luka, but truth was, I didn’t feel much like performing, and Roxie had it covered. But I still planned to get my crossbow out tonight and practice with it—if there was something attacking the camp, I wanted to be prepared.
“Why don’t you two talk it over and see what you can come up with?” Brendon asked.
With Doug gone and under Brendon’s direction, the carnival slowly rolled into motion. Brendon was right—there was still a lot to do if we wanted to open today, and we had to if we wanted to get out of here eventually.
Hutch came over to me, and without saying anything, he grabbed a sponge from the sudsy bucket and started scrubbing beside me. A bandana had been looped around his forehead to keep his shaggy brown hair out of his face, and it highlighted the dark circles under his eyes. None of us had gotten any sleep last night.
The campsite had started coming alive—people chatting with each other, things being moved around, breakfast being made. But then it all suddenly fell silent, eerily so, like someone had hit an off switch on a radio.
And then I saw him. Coming in between the trailers with blood staining his clothes, Gideon had returned, and he was alone.
14. divination
Everyone kept their distance, silently watching Gideon, as if he’d become contagious, and if you went near him, what happened to Seth would happen to you too.
My mom must’ve been watching for him from inside the Winnebago, because she ran out toward him, her shawl billowing out behind her.
“How is he?” Mom asked, her voice soft but desperate.
“It’s not good.” Gideon took a deep breath and spoke loud enough so everyone would be able to hear him. “Seth is alive, but … Carrie’s staying with him, and I think she should be up there for as long as he is.”
“Does that mean he doesn’t have very long?” Hutch asked.
Gideon rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know.”
“Did Seth say what happened?” Betty asked, frowning through her beard.
“Did they rule out the tigers yet?” Zeke asked. “Doug has been insisting it’s my tigers, but you know that it can’t be.”
Gideon held up his hand, silencing everyone. “I will be out to talk to all of you, but can you give me a few minutes to get cleaned up?”
“Back up, everyone,” Brendon commanded. “We’ll have a meeting before the carnival starts. Go about your business.”
Mom put her hand on Gideon’s back and walked with him into his trailer. I’d been cleaning the side of it, but I walked closer to the back door, where their words could travel through the screen door.
“Lyanka, love, will you get me your cards?” Gideon asked.
“You want me to do a reading?” my mom asked.
“If you can, please,” Gideon said, and there was a desperation in his voice that terrified me.
“Yes, of course. I’ll be right back.”
I took a step back, so I was more hidden around the corner of Gideon’s trailer, and watched as my mom darted out of the trailer. As she walked across the campsite to our Winnebago, she pulled her shawl more tightly around her, as if keeping out a chill only she could feel.
If I tried to talk to Gideon while my mom was there, she’d only tell me to leave him be and that he needed his rest. And I knew she was right, but I couldn’t shake the image of Seth, the darkness of his blood covering him. I had to find out what happened.
Slowly, I climbed up the steps of Gideon’s trailer. The only light came from the morning sun streaming in through his dusty curtains. He sat hunched over the table with one hand buried in his black hair, still in his bloodied clothes. A half-empty glass sat beside a bottle of whisky next to his hand.
I pushed open the screen door without knocking, and Gideon lifted his head to look back at me. Outside, he’d kept his eyes down, but now he was looking right at me so I could see them—how the light blue had gone so dark, they were almost black.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He looked away, but it was too late. “It’s nothing.”
“Gideon, I saw it in your eyes, and I saw Seth before he was taken to the hospital.” I stepped closer to him. “What happened?”