The Ringmaster (Harrow Faire #4) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,54
him, or does he submit to you?”
These people and their insanely personal questions. But Rudy was literally mostly an animal, so…she shouldn’t exactly be surprised. “Whenever anybody asks a question about Simon, the answer is always ‘both.’ He’s insane.” She paused as Rudy huffed a laugh. “We take turns. Depends on the mood.”
He grinned, a flash of white fangs in the dim light. “Worthy is the leader who knows when to kneel and when to hold the chain.”
She glanced away into one of the cages. “I guess. I’m not a leader.”
“Not yet.”
“You want me to kill Ringmaster?”
“I want to hunt. I want to feed. I want to not be starving. Death is the way of life. We must eat to survive.” He began slithering off again, and she followed him.
“And if I decide not to? Will you make me?”
“No. This is your choice to make. But I know your kind, Contortionist. You will linger at the crossroads for too long. That will bring us all death because of your fear of committing to a choice. That, I will not accept.”
She understood that. She wanted to argue that she wasn’t going to refuse to make a decision, but…he was right. She would put it off as long as possible. “That’s fair.”
“You don’t deny it?”
“You’re right. I don’t want to kill him. But I don’t want to condemn us all to death. I’d stand there staring at the road sign until we all died, if left to my own devices.” She paused. “It’s cowardly.”
“You are no coward.”
“How do you know?”
“I have seen enough of you. That you recognize such impulses in yourself is the first step.”
They passed cages and stalls as they walked, one after another. Most had real animals in them. Horses, a donkey—even a few giraffes! She wanted to go pet them, but she figured there would be time enough for that later. But many of the cages held monsters in them that weren’t…normal. Weren’t from Earth.
Their twisted shapes resembled the animals she might see at a circus. Lions, tigers, elephants, bears, and the like. But they were…warped. Nightmarish versions of themselves. “Do you ever let them out?”
“They are not caged. They are not my prisoners. They may go and run about in the Inversion as they like. But they prefer their kennels. It gives them security. But I do not let them out while guests roam the park.” He smirked. “You can imagine why.”
“What if we weren’t confined to the Faire? What if they could leave?”
“As we are meant to do?” He shut his eyes. “Yes. I would let them hunt the woods. Predators are meant to hunt. Prey is meant to graze. This state we are in is…unnatural.”
She imagined taking Simon out for dinner. Sitting at a nice restaurant or going to see a movie. A pang of regret struck her. She wanted to take him to a 3D film. Not because they were any good—but because he’d marvel at the technology.
Or a museum.
Or a mall.
But they were trapped. Starving. Dying.
Because we’re monsters and we should be.
He left her to think as they walked. He wasn’t much of a talker, anyway. It was clear he was speaking more to her now than he usually did to anybody in a week.
At the far end of the large tent was a section with a bigger stall with several animals inside. He waved her closer to the wooden gate that partitioned the animals off. She approached the gate, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.
There were two animals inside. Long-legged things. They almost looked like someone had photoshopped tigers onto a moose’s body. Their long tails had barbs on the end like a scorpion. They were so bizarre she couldn’t tell if they were frightening or funny looking. Like most things in Harrow Faire, she settled on both.
The bigger one, the male, growled at them. Rudy made a noise in response, some sort of guttural sound that was very, very not human. The male tiger-moose flattened its ears back, let out a quiet pruff, and stopped growling.
“You can talk to them?”
“All animals communicate with each other. Humans use too many words. We forget the simple things. All animals wish to know is—are you friend, or are you foe?” He held out his hand to the creature. It padded forward, claws digging into the dirt, and nosed his palm. “He is being overly protective of his mate and child.”