The Faire (Harrow Faire #5) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,25
other again. Make each other laugh again.
He tried to break off the kiss to speak. He muttered muffled things against her lips. Finally, he laughed and caught her head in his hands to pull her back. “Let me talk, woman!”
“No.” She was going to sob if she weren’t careful. “Wait.” She tried to get the words out a few times, only to have her voice crack, before she finally managed. “I don’t want to say goodbye. I won’t.”
His eyes creased in sadness as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Oh, Cora…That’s not what I want to say.”
“What is it, then?”
His voice softened. She saw nothing but a wealth of emotion in those black-red-white eyes. “Cora Glass…I—”
The dream blinked away. Darkness took her.
“Cora Glass…I—”
She disappeared from his arms. One second, she was there. The next, like a phantom, she was gone. He howled in rage and kicked his heels into the grass. “Damn it!” He pressed his palms over his eyes. “Damn it all to hell! You did that on purpose, Harrow Faire. I know you did!”
“You only have yourself to blame.”
Simon lifted his head in surprise. There was a man standing at his feet. A man wearing very old clothing. A man he thought he might recognize. He squinted. Oh. “Hello, Clown. I didn’t recognize you without all the…” He motioned his palm vaguely in front of his face in a circular motion. “Skull business.”
The man at his feet looked down at him dourly. Simon knew that look. It was the expression of a stern and disapproving father.
Simon rolled his eyes and, folding his arms behind his back, made himself comfortable. “Harrow Faire, I take it?”
Silence.
“And this is how you appear to Cora?” Simon hummed. “I would have chosen a better-looking appearance, personally. But I suppose my beautiful visage was already taken.” He smirked. “Can’t have her confusing the three of us, now, can we?”
Still, the ghost of Clown-gone-Faire stared at him flatly.
“I’m hysterical. I don’t know what the problem is with all you people.” Simon shut his eyes, enjoying the sun and the breeze. It was much better than hanging by his ankles. Or being skewered on a statue like poor Cora. “Very rude to interrupt us, by the by. I was about to make her very happy.”
“You had so many chances to tell her you love her. And each time you couldn’t do it. Why?”
“It’s undignified.”
“Simon.”
He opened one eye. “What?”
“If I told you that you had the power to save her, would you do it?”
That got his attention. He popped up to his feet, pulling down on his suit coat. “Why didn’t you start with that? Of course! What do I need to do?”
“You told her you would sacrifice yourself to spare her.” The Faire glared up at him. “I need to know if you meant it or if you’re lying again.”
Simon wavered. “Wh…what?” He took a step back, suddenly remembering that the Faire, however neutered as it might be in its starved state, was still very dangerous.
“Are you willing to sacrifice for her, Simon Waite?”
“Well.” He straightened his tie. “How much are we talking?”
The Faire sighed heavily.
A third voice entered the fray. Well, technically, it was still only one of the two voices. But it was unexpected all the same. “I am. I’ll do anything you need.”
“Gah!” Simon jumped a foot in the air as he looked at himself. “Oh. Ah. Hah. See. See, now I know I’m hallucinating.” He pointed at the mirror image of himself. Only a few things were different. The suit was an older style and jet black. Eyes of cyan looked back at him. Eyes he used to own but hadn’t seen in the mirror in a very long time. “See? This is all just a dream. I don’t need to give up anything, because none of this is real.”
Simon’s mirror image looked at the ghost of Clown. “I’ll sacrifice anything you need. Anything for her.” He stepped toward the other man. “I love her. I would do anything to protect her, and you know that.”
Clown took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Oh, you poor thing.” He reached up and placed his palms on the chest of Simon’s black-clothed reflection, and for a moment, he expected to feel them on his own. The Puppeteer took a step back from the scene, finding it deeply disturbing. “So twisted up, you don’t even know what you are anymore, do you?”
“I know—perfectly well—” Simon sputtered. “I am just fine, thank