The Wilds (Reign and Ruin 1) (19 page)

And the answer
was no.

"I need to get
out of this game," Marty whispered to himself.

Chapter
17

Across the sand, there floated a buzzing noise.
The dreams heard it and disappeared for a while, hiding their faces
in the sand and in the sky until the sound faded away. Then they
peeked their heads out and looked around at each other. Something
altogether new and different, much more dangerous and clever than
any of them, had entered the Wilds and was flying towards something
else with a fearsome determination. They went back to their paths,
flitting in and out of the Wilds, but with a new caution.

They were no
longer the most frightening nightmares in Palet.

***

And when she was bad,
she was horrid . . .

The man took a moment
to light a torch. The flame flared up to lick the dark air and in
the light I saw that we were in the middle of a cluster of cages,
many of them containing animals that must have been performers in
the circus. It nearly broke my heart to look around at the
menagerie of pure mourning that surrounded me.

A sad lion
paced up and down, licking at the broken skin around his ankle
chains. A group of bears sat in a circle and looked resolutely into
the middle; their backs were stripped with candy-cane red welts.
There was even a little monkey on his own who held his head between
his hands like a lost child. I wanted to sweep them all to me and
cover them.

A breath of
smoke and my attention turned to what could only be described as
the Ringmaster of them all.

He was tall,
taller than any man I had ever seen in person. The top of his red
top hat might have easily reached eight feet. And he smelled of
sawdust and cotton candy.

An air of smug
cruelty washed down over me, his lips curling under an oiled black
slug of a mustache. His eyes were slanted down towards his long
nose and unlike Tyler, there was something in his eyes that was not
even trying to hide; something that seemed a lot like confident
malice.

He smiled
needle teeth and I inadvertently took a small step back.

"So here I have
the prize. Let me take a look at you," the Ringmaster said. His
voice slid out of his mouth like the trail of a snail. His accent
was slightly Spanish and his thin black eyebrows moved with the
inflections of his voice.

Dark eyes took
in my small stature, dirty face and brown hair, which must have
been caked with sand and salt. He didn't linger on my necklace, but
I noticed him register my chin, held high, and the way I clenched
my fists to keep them from shaking.

"The Daughter
of Palet. You look so disappointingly normal."

"What did you
expect me to look like?" I asked.

"Smoke! Glamor!
Fire!" the Ringmaster crowed ecstatically. "You are the heir to the
throne. You could at least have washed your face."

"Your friends
back there didn't give us much time to freshen up," I answered. The
Ringmaster flicked his cigarette lazily towards the door and
shrugged.

"Charming
ruffians, but they have their uses. Quite the team. And you should
see them perform!" He blew a smoke ring into the air, which grew
bigger and bigger until it passed through me like a giant hula
hoop. "We here are all about the dramatics."

"Obviously."

"Well, at least
I can admit it. Unlike you friend Lucan in there." With that he
started to move through the tent, and I had no choice but to follow
the pool of light. "He is your competitor's brother, did you know
that?"

Flashes of
cages emerged and disappeared again into the dark, eyes glinting in
the torch light as the animals watched us pass. "He mentioned
it."

"Funny choice
of teammate." His arm pushed aside a hidden fold of fabric and we
were suddenly in the light again, a warmer glow of gas lamps. The
room was swathed in red cloth and couches and as he fitted the
torch into a bracket on the wall, he waved me to sit with his
smoking hand.

Perching
gingerly on the edge of a settee, I watched him pull out a bowl of
marbles and set them pointedly on the table. They were like the
ones Marty had and the one I took to enter into Palet. Funny, how
something so innocent looking can be so different to your childhood
memories. He flicked back his coattails and sat down across from
me. His silver rings glinted in the gas light.

"So when do I
call Cirrus to pluck the petal from the bud?" he murmured, picking
a piece of tobacco leaf from the tip of his tongue.

"I'm surprised
you're even asking," I replied. The Ringmaster tsked and shook a
finger in my direction.

"Why? Not eager
to be reunited with your love?" His smile grew nasty. "Does he
suffocate you? Do you yearn to be free?"

"You don't know
what you're talking about," I said.

"It's a toxic
relationship, and it's him. He clings, doesn't he?" he asked,
leaning forward as if to start gossip. I drew back in disgust and
he flashed me a knowing smile. "I see, then. You are really
Walking, then?"

The Ringmaster
reached above his head and pulled a thin string, and the faint toll
of a bell rang somewhere far away.

"Please do help
yourself," he said suddenly, motioning to the marbles. I shook my
head and his face fell a little in disappointment. He considered
the bowl and used his long fingers to fish one out from the bottom.
Meanwhile, I noticed for the first time the whip he wore on his
hip. It clung to his side as a sleeping millipede. I moved my eyes
away quickly and found him watching me with sly eyes. His tongue
was rolling the marble around in his mouth slowly.

"There are
stories flying around Palet, the main rumor being a couple's spat.
Two crossed lovers fighting it out for the throne." He wrung his
heads mockingly and pulled the face of distress. "
If they could
only work it out, we would have peace! And they could rule
together
." He broke out laughing and swallowed the marble in
one smooth gulp. "You are really the golden couple to those who
don't know better."

"But you
do."

"I do," he
whispered. Shutting his eyes, he leaned back in the chair and drew
a great sigh. He ran his hands up and over his chest as the drugs
kicked in and the blood rushed to his brain. And at that point, the
crimson fabric of the wall was lifted up by Leof, pulling along
Lucan. Timothy followed obediently behind. The Ringmaster stirred
and opened his eyes. Upon seeing Leof, his face lit up with pupils
the size of the moon.

"Oh what
fun
! What an absolute hoot. A prize for me!" The Ringmaster
rose, teetering a bit, and began to circle Lucan. "Do you recall
when I last saw you?" Lucan clamped his mouth shut and watched the
Ringmaster stroke his the whip tenderly. "You were gearing up to be
quite the protégé. Cirrus had very high hopes," he said. "Too bad
they were so high you ended up ten feet off the ground."

Leof laughed
and Timothy joined in, but I doubt he understood why. I took in
Leof's pistol, Timothy's fists, the Ringmaster's whip. What I
wouldn't have given for something to help me fight back. I was
beginning to get really sick of being toyed with.

The Ringmaster
was delicately rubbing a marble along Lucan's lips. Lucan jammed
his teeth together and tensed his jaw, but the Ringmaster was
whispering soothing noises in his ear.

"Come now,
petal. Open up. It all feels so good, don't you know? We would all
have so much more fun." His teeth closed over Lucan's earlobe and
tugged gently.

I couldn't take
it anymore.

"So now what?"
I asked, standing up pointedly and opening my hands. The men turned
towards me and I saw Lucan raise his eyebrows. It was a warning,
probably a really sensible one. But I ignored it. "It's not the
first time I've been kidnapped. You must have a plan. Care to share
it?"

Leof glanced
uneasily at his boss. The Ringmaster's whip was unrolled and his
eyes were only for me as he idly dragged it through the hard packed
dirt floor. He casually tossed the marble back into the bowl where
it landed with a soft clack.

"Well, I could
turn you in for a sizable reward if I wanted." He flicked the end
of his whip with a sharp snap that made me flinch. "And I
desperately do want to. I want to turn you in, Maggie, for the
money; in addition, I would love to see the little bastard brother
Lucan put back in his place."

Leof gripped
the back of Lucan's neck and gave his cheek a little lick. I could
see the effort Lucan was making not to explode.

"And what about
Cirrus, Maggie? Something in those rumors must be true. Does he
hold a torch for you? For what he wants?" The Ringmaster sucked his
needle teeth and winked. "You cannot be so impervious to him,
either. But I don't think you know what you want. Yet."

We remained
silent, although I wanted to knock the pointy teeth out of his
jaw.

"However, I
have a new proposition for you." He flicked the tip of his whip
towards Leof. "Leof, please step over here for one second."

Leof slicked
back his hair and stepped around Lucan. The Ringmaster clapped him
on the shoulder and pinched his cheek.

"Did you know
he was my nephew?"

"No, I did
not," I said.

"Since his
father died, I've been looking after him. He's a good boy.
Absolutely insane, addicted to havoc. But all in all, a good
catch."

Leof rolled his
eyes and adjusted the pistol in his belt.

"So what? He
also held me at gun point and sliced a friend open," I replied
through gritted teeth. The Ringmaster waved it away.

"Business,
business. The world keeps turning round and people are killed and
bartered and made rich by business." He placed one hand on my
shoulder – it was clammy with sweat and heat, blood boiling under
his skin from the marble, but it still sent a shiver down my back.
"And now for my business. I brought you here, Maggie, because I
could turn you in. But I won't."

"You
won't?"

"You
won'
t?" Leof parroted, looking at his uncle like he was
crazy.

"No!" The
Ringmaster squeezed our shoulders gleefully. "I will not. I will
let you live and rule this great land. And you will marry my nephew
and he will rule you."

I think both
Leof and I were both too shocked to say anything. It was almost
laughable. Marry Leof? Marrying anyone seemed ridiculous, but marry
this guy? This cruel, ugly bounty hunter? Pass.

But before I
could protest Old Weasel Face piped up.

"I am not
marrying her!" Leof said angrily. He was backing away from both of
us, shaking his head determinedly. "She has tits like a little
boy."

"Woah, slow
down cowboy!" I replied before I knew what I was doing. "I don't
want to marry you either! And you can fuck right off, you're not
getting anywhere near my tits."

"Children, calm
down," the Ringmaster hushed. He turned to Leof. "You could be
King. Don't you want that for yourself?"

"What I want is
a woman who doesn't come with such a big mouth," he shot back.
Behind him, Lucan's face was growing redder and redder. Timothy was
watching the uproar with great interest and his grip on Lucan was
getting slack. "Think I want the soiled goods of someone like
Cirrus?"

"And what is
that supposed to mean?" I cried.

"He's one sick
fuck. And you're trying to push his whore –"

But before he
could finish, Lucan's fist lashed out and struck Leof viciously on
the back of the head. Leof barreled to the side and I heard a crack
as his forehead hit the sharp edge of the ornamental table. The
bowl of marbles tipped over and scattered across the table top, the
sandy floor and under furniture. As Leof's body slumped to the
ground and the room went still, all that could be heard was the
sound of rolling glass.

The Ringmaster
looked up and I quickly took a step back. His eyes were twin
infernos of fire, burning in the gas light, and before Lucan could
move Timothy lunged forward to wrap his torso in a gigantic bear
hug. Lucan struggled, fighting desperately against the grip, but
Timothy was as solid as a pillar of concrete.

The Ringmaster
pulled the whip through his hands slowly, his gaze scorching and
unwavering on Lucan pushing and twisting in Timothy's arms.

"Take him
outside," he said softly. It was too soft, like the calm before a
terrifying, death-defying storm. "A lesson needs to be taught for
boys who put their hand in the cookie jar." And with that Lucan was
pulled out of the red chamber and back through the dark room to the
ring.

My body was
made of stone for a few seconds. They had left me alone and I could
run. I knew that I could grab my backpack, discarded next to Leof,
and run back through the sands of the Wilds. But my brain wasn't
speaking to my limbs and I found myself staring blankly at a
particularly shiny cat's eye marble that had settled by my
heel.

But then I
heard a sharp crack in the distance and all at once my feet were
moving towards Leof before I could think. I had no time to close my
eyes, calm down, think this over. My hands reached to his belt – he
was still breathing – and pulled out the pistol.

Crack.

I moved quickly
through the middle chamber, the animals following me as I sped
thoughtlessly past. No one noticed as I broke back through the tarp
into the large performance ring.

Crack!

Lucan was on
his knees and I could already see the blood dripping softly down
his tanned skin and down the sides of his muscled calves. Timothy
stood a few feet away, biting his fist and rocking back and
forth.

The Ringmaster
had removed his red coat and top hat. His hair gleamed in the torch
light and glistening sweat had begun to gather on his brow as he
raised his arm and brought it down, expertly lashing his bull whip
across Lucan's torn back.