The Faire (Harrow Faire #5) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,19

wild card in these scenarios. Finally, after a long moment, he spoke up. “For how long?”

“As long as it takes for them to give up their plot.” He paused. “I do this with Mr. Harrow’s blessing. We spoke on the matter last night.” It felt terrible to lie. But it was a practiced skill at this point in his long career. He took solace in the fact that he spoke the falsehoods to protect them. To shelter them from the truth, not hurt them with it.

Rudy growled by the back of the tent. It was a low, bestial noise. He bared his teeth at Ringmaster and stormed from the enclosure.

Louis shook his head. “To have no trial, even if what you’re saying is true, it’s wrong, Turk. Everyone stands trial before going into the tower.”

“She’s a threat, Magician. A dire one. One touch from her alone, and you know what she can do.” Turk shook his head.

“Then box her hands, like we do with Simon.” Louis put his arm around Elena, holding the Seamstress close. The redhead’s usually chipper expression was drawn into concern and fear. “Why not let her speak? Explain what they’re after?”

“Because Simon whispers dangerous lies into her ear, Magician. You know how manipulative he can be. To let them spread that poison is too dangerous. Trust me, they were beyond reason. There was nothing that could be done by having a trial except threaten all your lives.”

“But…” Louis trailed off and shook his head.

“It makes no sense,” Bertha interjected. “She kept him in check. She wasn’t his doll. I saw how they were together. And fine, don’t let her touch you. But why not let her talk?”

“Words are more dangerous than anything else in this world, Bearded Lady.” Ringmaster frowned. “They seep into the soul. He corrupted her. I will not let her corrupt you all as well.”

“Bullshit.” Aaron stood and began to pace. “This is bullshit, Turk. This—and you—reek of it.”

“He’s telling the truth.” Jack stood from where he sat near the side of the tables. He stepped forward. “I was there. I helped him put Cora and Simon in the tower. And…she was plotting to kill him. She wanted to take over Harrow Faire.”

The crowd murmured. The Twins shook their heads in unison and held their hands together in front of them. Jim the Mechanic rubbed his hand over his scruffy face and looked off into the distance.

“It’s not like her.” Bertha folded her arms across her ample and tattooed chest. “Not like her at all. I’m with Barker. Something smells off. Cora didn’t want to rule Harrow Faire. She only just started to want to be here at all.”

“But Simon does want to rule,” Pierre the Juggler argued back. “He would take any opportunity to see us all put beneath his heel. You know that.”

The argument descended into chaos.

“Fine. But he had no way of controlling her.”

“He tricked her into loving him!”

“You saw them together. You saw how he looked at her.”

“He’s acting.”

“They were together before Clown died. What about then? He couldn’t have known what was coming.”

Ringmaster rubbed his hand across his brow. This was giving him a headache. He was glad he hadn’t told them the truth. He was also glad Jack was keeping his mouth shut. At least for now.

On and on the bickering went. Once more, Ringmaster slammed his fist into the post. “Enough. Enough of this. I am the Ringmaster, and it is my duty to uphold the code of the Family. Cora and Simon broke our code in their covenant to see me destroyed and our Family sent into upheaval. I sentenced them to the tower. But I’ll give you all this. I’ll let them out for a formal trial when we next Invert and there are no patrons for them to endanger.”

That calmed their concerns. Even Bertha seemed somewhat comforted by that. They only spent a few months at most “topside” before they went to the void.

However, Ringmaster knew that this time would be a longer stretch. Harrow Faire would struggle to keep hold of its life as long as possible. But there was nothing it could do now. Eventually, it would wither. Eventually, it would starve.

Turk wasn’t lying. He also wasn’t telling the truth. He left the tent without another word, his mood foul. The whole ordeal left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was tired but knew any attempt at sleep would be pointless. His mind, wishing him to suffer for his deeds,