It would be nothing, if Tim was an average acrobat. But he wasn’t. Tim, his older brother, Brendon, and Brendon’s daughter, Alyssa, all had the power of levitation—meaning they could float, suspended high above the ground, from sheer power of will.
In all the years they’d been traveling with us, I’d never once known any of them to fall.
“Are you all right, Tim?” Gideon asked. He’d taken his position, standing in front of us, and his dark eyebrows pinched as he studied Tim.
“Yeah, it’s just a sprain.” Tim shrugged again. “I’ll be fine for the show tonight.”
“But you fell?” Gideon pressed. “While you were performing?”
“Yeah.” Tim shifted in his chair, and his face began to redden. “I lost my grip, and then I just … I couldn’t catch the air, I guess.”
Gideon seemed to consider this for a moment, then he shook his head, clearing it of whatever had been filling it. As he surveyed the crowd, his eyes were light blue, and I found some relief in that.
“As you all probably know by now, I visited with Leonid Murphy today,” Gideon said, speaking loudly as he addressed the carnival. “There have been strange things going on here. Those of you with extra senses have most likely felt it.”
People began murmuring then, adding their own stories to the ones I already knew—my mom’s excessive mania, Gideon’s faulty divining rod, Roxie’s weak fire. Luka said that his badly scraped knee had healed up just fine yesterday, only to reopen for a while this morning before healing again.
Even those without extra senses, like Betty the Bearded Lady and Zeke the Tiger Tamer, complained of problems. Betty had been having headaches, and Zeke had been having nightmares.
“Maybe that’s what happened with Seth,” Tim said, his voice just above a whisper. “Maybe his strength went out the same way my flying did, and he couldn’t fight off whatever attacked him.”
“So we’ve all felt it?” Gideon asked, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “Leonid thinks this strange energy comes from the water here, specifically the swamp and tributaries that surround Caudry.”
“What is it?” Betty asked, her usually confident voice trembling.
“Is it dangerous?” Brendon added.
“Leonid claims it isn’t, and he’s been living here for some time, as have the people in Caudry,” Gideon explained as best he could. “With our extrasensory abilities, I believe we’re more sensitive to it than the average townsperson.”
“What about Seth Holden?” Brendon’s wife, Jackie, asked. She sat clutching their young daughter in her lap. “What happened to him? You can’t say that that wasn’t dangerous. And Blossom Mandelbaum is still missing.”
“Blossom isn’t ‘missing.’” Roxie used air quotes. “She’s just … not here. And if this energy or whatever is affecting all of us, it had to have been messing with her, and her telekinesis is extrasensitive. She probably got agitated and took off to hang out at the music festival. She’ll be back before we leave.”
“You don’t know that,” Jackie said, her voice growing sharper as she spoke. “And that still doesn’t explain Seth.”
“It stands to reason that if the energy is affecting us, it’s most likely affecting the tigers,” Gideon replied carefully.
Zeke was instantly on his feet. “My tigers would never do this!”
“Zeke, calm down,” Gideon said. “No one is saying your tigers are at fault. Whoever spray painted my trailer probably thought it would be funny to leave their gate open, and with everything going on, the tigers were probably spooked and reacted. Seth just got caught in the middle.”
“Gideon—” Zeke started, but Gideon held up his hand.
“There isn’t a better explanation right now,” Gideon said firmly. “I’m not proposing we get rid of the tigers—not yet—but we do need to take greater precautions. While we’re here, there will be no tiger shows, and that gate is to be kept locked at all times.” Zeke lowered his head. “Is that understood?”
“Fine,” Zeke relented, and sat back down.
“Now, I know some of you probably think we should pack up and cut our losses,” Gideon said.
Only a few murmured their agreement, with Jackie Phoenix being the loudest.
“Our contract stipulates that we don’t get paid until Sunday the twenty-second, the last day of our show.” Gideon spoke loudly so his words would drown out the protests. “The midway has made some money, but we’ve only had one night of shows. We haven’t even made enough to cover the cost of getting out of here.
“I won’t force anyone to stay,” Gideon said. “Everyone is always free to go, whenever they choose. But I am staying.” He paused. “Would any of you like to leave now, before you’ve gotten paid?”
Someone coughed, and a few chairs creaked as people shifted their weight. But no one raised their hand or stood up. Everyone was staying.