The Faire (Harrow Faire #5) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,59

will keep this deal with you, Puppeteer. Harrow Faire will live as long as you do.”

“You say that. But how are you to prove to me that you mean it? What are you willing to sacrifice to show me you speak the truth?” Simon sniffed dismissively. “I want something from you. A gesture of friendship. Of good faith.”

“How will that stop me from breaking my word to you after all is said and done?”

“Oh, it won’t. Not really. But sadly, there is nothing to be done about that. I will just have to trust you and your honor. That is…unless I had something you cared about.” Simon’s tone dropped, no longer cordial and playful, but dark and sadistic. His grin never wavered. It just changed context. “What if I had something of yours? Something I could torture if you betrayed me. Something whose pain I could make terrible, excruciating, and complete for every split second of existence before we all blink out of the world. And trust me…I am quite skilled at making other things feel pain.”

Turk felt his blood run cold, as if ice water flowed through his veins. “What are you suggesting, Puppeteer?”

“I think you know. But! Just in case you are as stupid as you claim to be, allow me to fill you in.” Simon walked toward Ringmaster until he loomed over him, blotting the sun from Turk’s view.

And then, Turk’s day went from bad to worse.

So did his nausea.

Simon smiled. “If you want to kill Harrow Faire…you’re going to give me the woman you love.”

14

Cora walked from the midway food stalls with a handful of carrots. It was extremely—extremely—hard to find carrots in a carnival. She had gone to the cafeteria, to the kitchens, and nearly two-dozen food stalls before she found one that sold “vegetarian fried food.” It looked as disgusting as it sounded. But she finally had what she had come for. A dozen full, unpeeled carrots, with their greens still attached, dangled from her hands.

She had a mission in mind. It was a stupid one, but she needed a distraction. She needed something to cheer her up. Simon had a performance to prepare for. She didn’t go on until the next night. It felt strange taking the stage with everything that was going on, but…business was business.

What was the phrase?

The show must go on.

A full-on existential debate between two warring monsters trapped inside a man-eating murder-circus was probably not what they had in mind when somebody coined that phrase. She wondered where the phrase actually came from, now that she thought about it. She sighed. No phone meant no internet. No internet meant no search engines. No search engines meant she’d just have to be content to not know the answer.

Man, life must have really sucked before the internet was a thing.

Maybe if she won, she could introduce some modern technology to the Faire.

She didn’t want to kill Ringmaster. She would. She was committed now. Even if she hated him for what he had done to her and Simon, she understood why he had done it. It was one thing to agree with people. It was another to grasp their reasoning.

She could follow how Turk had gone from point A to point B and on to C. She disagreed. Vehemently. But in five days, the debate would be over. Votes would be cast, and the Family would decide whether they continued to live or died.

She had no intention of breaking her promise. If they voted to let the Faire die, she would let it happen. Who was she to decide? She wasn’t anybody. She was just Cora. A stupid girl from New Hampshire who majored in photography, had her body give out on her, and worked at goddamn bank for seven wasted years of her life.

There was a very short list of decisions she was qualified to make. On it were things like “what order change should be counted in” and “what setting on a camera would get a better shot.” Decidedly not on the list were topics that included whether a goddamn eldritch monster should be allowed to roam the world.

She wanted the answer to be “yes, it should.” But there was wisdom in the group. If they wanted to live, they would live. If they wanted to die…they would all die. She didn’t know how long Harrow Faire had left—maybe a year, tops. She knew if the Family sided with Turk, she would have to listen to Lazarus and Simon whine