My life with a traveling sideshow had been chaotic, and we’d always been on the edge of poverty. But we all took care of each other and looked out for one another. I was never alone, and no one here ever treated me like I was a freak or different, because I wasn’t. I was just one of them.
“Mara.” Mom held up her hand to me. “I want you to have the things I could never have, that I could never give you. That means that someday you’ll find love and make a home. And that’s why you must never, ever open your mind to the spirits.”
I did my best not to roll my eyes or look annoyed. “I know, Mom. You’ve only told me that about a thousand times.”
“Mara, I am serious,” she snapped. “This place”—she gestured vaguely around, wagging her fingers in the air—“the energy will tempt you, but you mustn’t let it. That’s why I’m happy you’re seeing this boy.”
“Why?” I asked. “He’s from here. Kinda.”
“Yes, but he’ll keep you distracted while we’re here, so you can avoid whatever it is that’s pulling everyone else in all directions.” She cast a derisive glance out the window, at the swamp that lurked behind the campsite. “And when the week is up, you’ll say your sad good-byes, and we’ll move on. Then you’ll find a nice boy you can really fall in love with.”
I tugged at a lock of hair that had come loose from my ponytail and stared down at my lap. “But Gabe is a nice boy.”
“He seemed nice enough, and very respectful,” Mom allowed. “But there will be other boys, nicer ones. Ones that aren’t too wealthy and don’t live in a place filled with a dangerous energy.”
Still staring down, I chewed my lip. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No, but it’s the truth, and the truth rarely makes anyone feel better.” Mom got off her bed and sat down beside me, putting her arm around me as she did. “I’m sorry, qamari. I didn’t mean to make you sad.
“I only meant to tell you that I understood and that you didn’t need to hide things from me,” she went on. “And now I’ve only succeeded in convincing you the opposite, I suppose.”
“No, you didn’t.” I leaned into her, allowing her to hug me close.
“It’s only a few more days, and then we’ll be out of here and off to somewhere brighter and better,” Mom promised, but that thought hurt so much more than it would’ve before we got to Caudry. Before Gabe.
24. tigris
Hutch leaned against a black trunk marked Gideon’s Magic Act in white paint, and caught his breath. The cargo trailer filled with supplies for Gideon’s act appeared to be half empty, but Hutch already looked exhausted.
It didn’t help that the temperatures were already over eighty with humidity that made it feel like the air was sticking to my skin. Hutch was shirtless, and his wiry frame was covered in a thick layer of sweat.
But I understood it. I spent the morning practicing with my crossbow at the edge of the camp. It was an old crossbow, with the stock literally held on with duct tape. It was all that we’d been able to afford, but it still shot straight, so that’s what mattered.
It’d been hard taking aim with sweat dripping down my forehead and stinging my eyes, but I managed to hit every target I aimed for.
“I come bearing gifts from Betty,” I said as I reached him and held out a big glass of lemonade.
“Thanks,” he said, and gulped it down within seconds of me handing it to him.
“Where’s Gideon?” I asked, peering into the trailer with another glass of lemonade in my hand.
“He’s down at the tent, setting stuff up.” Hutch wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “You can leave his glass here, if you want. He’ll probably be back up in a few minutes.”
I set it down on the trunk beside him. “Do you need help with anything?”
“Not unless you can get Seth back here.” His joke felt empty, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “Sorry. This just really sucks without him. I didn’t realize exactly how much we relied on his strength.”
“Gideon called the hospital today, and it sounds like Seth’s on the mend, so that’s good,” I said, relaying what I’d heard from my mom. “I don’t know when he’ll be back, though.”
Hutch squinted, staring off at nothing for a moment. “Do you think that thing we saw last night was the same thing that attacked Seth?”
“I don’t even know what we saw last night.” I shrugged. “I’m not even sure we saw anything at all.”
Hutch looked at the ground and muttered, “I saw something.”
“If it was anything, it was probably a dog,” I said.
“Luka thinks it was a coyote.” He scratched absently at his knee through a hole in his jeans. “At least that’s what he told Tim when they were arguing this morning.”
“They were arguing?” I asked.
He nodded. “Tim’s angry that Luka was chasing after this thing, and it could be a rabid animal or a psycho from town. Tim pointed out that we still don’t know who spray painted ‘freeks’ on Gideon’s trailer.”