The Ringmaster (Harrow Faire #4) - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,55

hiding behind its mother, teetered forward on unsteady legs. Rudy let out a strange, low click, lowering his hand more to the smaller thing. It was a baby tiger-moose. To be fair, it was about the size of a donkey, so small was relative.

And it was adorable.

The little thing cautiously approached Rudy, sniffing the air, eyeing her as it came closer. But soon enough it sniffed his palm and nuzzled its head into his hand. He petted the thing gently between the ears.

Rudy glanced to her. “Go on. They will not bite. They look fearsome, but they are herbivores.”

Carefully, not really certain she believed him, she reached her hand into the pen. The baby tiger-moose sniffed her fingers, then bonked its head against her, looking for more attention. She chuckled and scratched it gently between the ears. It sat down and let out a happy sound, shutting its eyes.

“How is this possible? I thought we couldn’t breed.”

“We can’t. They can.” Rudy watched her as she used both hands to scratch the baby tiger-moose. “Animals only exist to dole out life and death as much as is possible before they, too, must die.” He turned to face her, the coils of his tail looping into a neat spiral. “Harrow Faire is more than death, Contortionist. Even those of us who cannot make life create in other ways.”

“How so?”

“In happiness. In art. In the joy we have with others.” He shut his eyes thoughtfully. “You love Simon, do you not?”

“I…” She sighed. No point in denying it. “Yeah.”

“That is the creation of something out of nothing. When we perform for the mortals, we bring them joy. We give them the memory of happiness and wonder, even if they do not remember us when we are gone again. We take from them a penny to give them back a dollar.”

The baby tiger-moose began nosing her hand impatiently. She had stopped petting it to listen to Rudy talk. “Yes, yes, hello. I haven’t forgotten you.” She smirked. “Y’know, for someone who doesn’t talk much, you’re quite the poet.”

“Perhaps.”

“I get your point. I do. I just…I don’t know yet.” She smiled sadly at the tiger-moose blissfully basking in the attention and head scratches, completely unaware that the creature that allowed it to exist—the Faire itself—might soon die. And with it would go everyone and everything.

“You must decide who to kill. You will not get away from this with your hands clean.”

“I will if Simon gets his way.” She sighed.

“He seeks to rob you of this gift from Clown?”

“Of course. Have you two met?” She eyed him narrowly. “I think he was scheming how to take over the Faire from the moment he set foot in this place.”

“You aren’t naïve, at least.” Rudy grimaced. “The notion of Simon in charge is…unsettling.”

She laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“But yet you love him?”

“I know who he is. I know exactly who he is. It makes me a terrible person, but…I do.”

“Then if you have found a place in your heart for someone as callous as he, I am confident you will find room enough for the rest of us.” Rudy began to slither away.

“Bye for now, little guy.” She patted the tiger-moose one last time and walked after Rudy, tucking her hands in her pockets.

“You can come and visit my creatures whenever you like. If it brings you a measure of peace. Clown used to come visit the young ones frequently. I think it consoled him.” Rudy paused. “I think he wished he had been a father.”

Cora nodded sadly. She could see that. She chewed her lip. “I don’t want to kill someone. I don’t even know if I can, or how to even go about trying. I think I just have to touch him, but…I really doubt it’s going to be that easy.”

“Nothing ever is. And no…he will not go quietly.” Orange, snake-like eyes met hers. “But you will not fight alone.”

She smiled faintly in return. She knew he was just after his own survival, but it was still comforting. At least the monster man wasn’t out to kill her. “Rudy?”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to be friends someday.”

He went silent for a long time, and she wondered if she had offended him. When they reached the flap of the tent, he pulled it aside for her. It wasn’t until she stepped outside that he spoke. “We already are, Contortionist.”

“Th—” she started, but he was already gone. Vanished into the shadows of the tent. She let out a small sigh and