The Carnival of Lost Souls : A Handcuff Kid Novel (26 page)

“Turn around! Who are you?” Jack shouted.

The collar from the person’s coat shielded his face. Jack’s pulse raced. Could it possibly be a hero, coming to help him, rescuing him from the Land of the Dead? He wished with his whole heart that it was. He wanted his very own Houdini. His dry lips whispered
please
, but no one heard him, not even the man at the end of the alley. Jack stepped toward him. A gaslight flickered. He tried to think of anyone who cared enough to help him. He called out, “Professor?” The sound of his voice was smaller than he intended. Something on the figure caught the light—a glimmer, a golden spark. Jack spotted a gold ring on the person’s finger. His stomach dropped, his heart sinking like a rock to the bottom of the black river. The guy he saw was
no
Houdini, and not the professor, either.

“You!” Jack spun around and stormed back out the alley. The figure chased him and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back into the shadows. The coat slid from his shoulders, revealing a confident smirk that Jack could’ve recognized from looking in the mirror. It was the thief, Skimmer.

“Who’s the professor?”

“No one.” Jack shoved his fists into his pockets, disappointed.

“Told you I’d be seeing you again.”

“Is business so bad that you have to come and spy on me?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Why did you run away from the camp?”

“I want to keep a low profile. I don’t want Mussini catching wind of our deal.”

“No thanks. I’m not making any deals.” Jack turned away, but Skimmer’s wiry fingers clenched his arm. Jack pulled out of his grasp and spun around.

“Don’t walk away. Give me a chance.”

“A chance for what?”

“Hear me out,” Skimmer said, clearing his throat. “As I see it, we make a perfect team for thieving. You’re my alibi. I’d do all the work, all you would have to do is sit out in the open in a respectable establishment for everyone to see, while I’m relieving the dead of some materialistic burden.” Skimmer shined his ring on his sleeve.

“Looked like you were doing fine on your own.”

“The Death Wranglers came looking for the thief, and I had to give up a lot of merchandise to avoid punishment.”

“They do that? I thought they just kept everyone from crossing the wall,” Jack said.

“They keep the dead in, the living out, and they make sure things stay reasonably fair in the towns—if you have enough to bribe them.” Skimmer rocked back
on his heels. “But with you and me working together, they would never catch me.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Is that what you were doing at the theater tonight? Stealing from the crowd after the show?”

“I’m an opportunist. It’s the first commandment of thievery—never let a good crowd go to waste. It was easy. The show must have been a good one, because everyone was all glassy-eyed and smiling. And the masks make sneaking around almost too easy. It was a great night.”

“Look, I’m not going to work your scam with you, because I’m getting out of here.”

“Well, I hate to state the obvious, but Mussini tried to cook your goose tonight. The way those trees went up in flames was not natural. The Amazing Mussini is one of the most powerful guys in the forest. He has centuries of bad deeds under his belt.”

“Mussini likes to keep us on our toes for the good of the show.” Jack glanced away from Skimmer. He scratched his neck. He could still feel the tiny, frantic legs of the insects crawling all over him. “I knew the tree was going to catch on fire. I thought it made the trick exciting,” Jack said, blustering. “It was all part of the act.”

Jack averted his eyes. Skimmer was right, and he knew it. Mussini’s trick had
almost
cost him dearly.

Skimmer snorted. “You can’t kid a kidder. I know Mussini personally, and I know what he is capable of. You’re the star of his show, but fame is fleeting. The
dead have a very short attention span. Soon the Amazing Mussini will need another trick to satisfy the crowds, and who knows what he’ll do to you.”

Skimmer had a point. The dead bored easily, always needing more and more excitement and danger to feel alive. Jack knew it was only a matter of time before Mussini pushed him too far.

“Come on,” Skimmer said, motioning toward a tavern. “We can’t talk out in the street. Someone could be listening.”

Jack followed Skimmer inside a gloomy tavern and sat at a low-lit booth in the corner. A waitress followed them over, and they ordered a round of root beer. Then Skimmer leaned over the table and addressed him in a hushed conspiratorial tone. “Who’s the head kid at Mussini’s show? The one in the hat?”

“Jabber. Why?”

“Because he followed you here. I spotted him a couple blocks back.”

Jack jerked around in his seat.

“Too late now. He’s coming over. You’ve got a lot to learn.” Skimmer smirked.

Jabber moved so quickly and silently over to their table that Jack hadn’t even noticed him. “Everything all right, Jack? We missed you back at camp.”

“Everything’s fine,” Jack said, even though he didn’t mean it.

Why did Jabber have to follow him? He ruined everything. Sure, Jabber had never outright lied to him. But Jack still didn’t trust him—he was too honest, and the things he said were too hard to hear.

“Who’s your new friend?” Jabber asked, narrowing his eyes at Skimmer, who with a swipe of his hand cleared the peanuts off of the table. Jabber had clapped his hand on Jack’s shoulder and was trying to guide him out of the chair, but Jack wasn’t budging.

Skimmer cracked a peanut shell between his teeth. “Shove off. Can’t you see we’re talking business here?”

Jabber crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Skimmer from under his hat. “Jack works for Mussini, and any business he does goes through him,” he said.

Jack did a double take at Jabber’s comments. “I might work for Mussini, but he doesn’t own me. I’ll talk to whoever I want to.” He could be honest, too, and Jabber needed to leave them alone.

“No need to get hostile. You two don’t mind if I join you?” Jabber pulled up a chair and sat down. “What kind of business are we talking? Maybe I’d like to get in on the action.”

“Right.” Jack smirked. “The only action you want in on is how to get rid of me permanently.” Jack couldn’t forget Mussini and Jabber plotting to kill him.

“Ah, that.” Jabber looked concerned. “So you know.”

“I know Mussini wants to kill me. I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“You might not believe me, but I don’t want you dead. If you’re dead, then you are a part of the show forever. And this is my show, or it will be, and I don’t need you.”

Jack huffed.

“I came to warn you,” Jabber said.

“I could have used a warning about the bugs or the fire.”

“I knew it wasn’t planned!” Skimmer exclaimed.

“What else is there to warn me about besides death?” Jack asked.

“Mussini has a trick planned for you. He’s having it brought in tonight. The very best trick he could find.” Jabber crushed a peanut shell between his thumb and forefinger.

Jack knew that the trick would be the most dangerous one Mussini could get his hands on, maybe even one of Houdini’s tricks. And then he instantly knew what it was. “No, not that. That’s impossible!”

“Mussini deals in impossible. He wants you to do the famed Chinese Water Torture Cell, and he expects you to be an utter failure.”

“I won’t do it. I can’t. I’ll just have to leave before the trick, and I’m guessing since you’re telling me all this that you have an idea of how I can escape.”

“You could escape to a life of crime.” Skimmer smiled,
leaning across the table. “Why work with Mussini, when you can join my gang and live a life of criminal leisure? Forget about Mussini and his torture.”

Jabber flicked a peanut at Skimmer. “No chance of that if he stays in the forest. Mussini will never forget about Jack. He’ll track him down. So he can’t stay. He must escape.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he considered his options, they were dismal at best. What was clear was that he needed Jabber’s help. He didn’t have the energy to hold a grudge anymore, and deep down he was relieved to have some help, even if it was for Jabber’s ulterior motives.

Skimmer cracked a peanut shell between his front teeth. “How do you expect to get Jack out of the forest and, more importantly, past the Death Wranglers? You can’t just whisk him away,” Skimmer said.

“Do you know what Mussini traded for safe passage?” Jack asked, but even as he said it, his hopes sank. The only thing he had to trade to the Death Wranglers was Mussini’s book, and he wasn’t getting that back anytime soon. “I was going to give them Mussini’s magic book before Runt betrayed us and Mussini took his book back.” Jack stared down into his glass.

“Mussini would never trade them the whole book. Are you mad? That book is priceless. You want to trade
as little as possible. Mussini performed one trick, giving the Death Wranglers a beautiful gift.”

“I won’t ever be able to match Mussini in magic. What are we going to do?”

“There is another way to get through the North Wall without dealing with the Death Wranglers.” Jabber paused for dramatic effect.

“Well, are you going to tell me?”

Jabber leaned across the table and spoke directly to Jack. “We’re talking about the one night that the living and the dead mingle. The one night that the dead are free to leave the forest and roam the land of the living. When the barrier between our two worlds is as thin as a ghost.” He drew out the word
ghost
, and a tingle ran up Jack’s spine.

“So when is that?” Jack hoped Jabber was being melodramatic. Even though he was living in the Land of the Dead, he tried not to remind himself everyone around him was dead.

“Halloween.” Jabber smiled. “It is the one night that you would be free of your obligations to Mussini. The one night the dead can cross the wall and the living can escape!”

“At the end of the tour?” Jack asked. “I thought Runt was kidding about that. Are you sure it’s not just part of Mussini’s plan for a good show?”

“No, it’s real,” Skimmer said. “It’s a really stupid plan, though.”

“Why doesn’t anyone in camp talk about this?” Jack asked.

“Because it only really benefits the living,” Jabber said.

“So, if the gate is open on Halloween, why don’t you guys escape and leave the forest?”

Jabber and Skimmer smirked like Jack was the most clueless kid alive. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re dead. On the other side we turn to ghosts.” Skimmer shuddered. “There isn’t much I’m scared of, I don’t even mind water that much, but being a ghost is awful. Plus, going back just brings up memories of a life that’s over. It’s sad, really. But though some try, most don’t bother with that side anymore. I don’t know how Mussini and Jabber can stand crossing the wall.”

“As a magician, Mussini knows how to stabilize our forms.” Jabber rocked back in his chair. “It’s a temporary state, similar to the animal magic he does.”

“Well, if you’re so smart, tell Jack why it is impossible, even if he wanted to leave on Halloween, and if he tries he will probably end up dead,” Skimmer said.

“Tell me.”

Jabber’s eyes narrowed. He lowered his voice and Jack leaned in to listen. “Just because you will be free from Mussini’s contract doesn’t mean he won’t try to keep you here. The forest will be crawling with Death Wranglers paid
off by Mussini, traps will be set everywhere, and if you are caught you will be hanged and your lifeless body tossed into the Black River, where it will sink to the bottom, and your spirit will stay here in servitude to Mussini forever. I will try and help, but you must escape Mussini on your own. The gate at the North Wall will be unlocked, and if you make it that far, you are free to leave.”

“The gate will be unlocked and we can just walk out? No deal-making with the Death Wranglers?” Jack considered it.

“If you make it that far,” Skimmer said. “It’s a huge risk.”

Jack leaned back in his seat and thought about T-Ray and Boxer and knew it was their only chance—their last chance. “If it’s the only way, then I say we go.”

“Excellent. Maybe it’s time Mussini gets tricked for once,” Jabber said.

Jack knew that Jabber had personal reasons for standing up to Mussini, tricking him by getting rid of Jack, and proving that he was a worthy heir to the show. Everyone had an angle. But as long as that meant he would help, Jack didn’t care about Jabber’s motivation.

“But you still need a trick for the show. Mussini is expecting a huge finale. Halloween demands it.”

Jack stared at Jabber. “I
still
have to do the trick? Can’t we just leave before the show starts and avoid the torture cell all together?”

“Mussini’s suspicious of you. He knows you are going to try and escape. You
have
to do the trick.”

“How will I do that?” Jack asked. “You keep forgetting that I’m not actually a real magician.”

Jabber drank down the last swallow in his glass. “Magician or not, you must risk your life for the good of the show.”

“Or you could forget about the show and work with me,” Skimmer said, grinning. “Partners. Seventy/thirty split on the merchandise till you learn the ropes. Leave Mussini and the show behind.”

“I can’t leave T-Ray and Boxer.”

“I hope you’re terrified,” Skimmer said. “If I were alive, I know I would be.”

“I’ll do it. I’m not afraid.” But Jack
was
afraid. “It’s the only chance we have.”

“It’s just a little torture. Nothing to be afraid of,” Jabber said, then turned to Skimmer. “And I’ve got a job for you, too.”

“I don’t work for Mussini.” Skimmer shifted his weight away from Jabber.

“Think of it as a freelance opportunity.” Jabber stood to leave. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“If you’re not taking no, then this job of yours better pay.”

Jack stood. “I get the feeling everyone pays in the forest.”