Midnight reynolds and th.., p.5
Midnight Reynolds and the Phantom Circus, page 5
To help.
“Everything okay?” The soft look in Logan’s eyes had been replaced by confusion. Midnight didn’t blame him. In the past, she’d often been forced to cut short their conversations because of spectral energy. And while it should’ve made her feel better that at least she could tell him why she had to go, it didn’t.
Because the truth was that right now she’d rather be a normal girl, just hanging out with Logan. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.
“It’s Eliza. I think she’s trying to show me something,” Midnight said as the pink fog turned and snaked through the crowded carnival.
“Let’s go see what it is,” Logan replied.
“Thanks.” Having a friend by her side certainly made following a ghostly spirit less daunting.
The buzzing in her ears increased, but the icy panic that often accompanied planodiume was gone. With Eliza, she was safe.
The soft, pink tendril sped past rows of tents, moving faster and faster. Midnight panted as Eliza twisted her way past several more rides and campers.
“Hey, watch it,” someone protested.
“Sorry,” she called out, not slowing down.
She was jogging now, her breath coming in short bursts as Eliza disappeared. Midnight came to a halt before seeing the shimmer of pink hovering just above a small tent. It was faded purple, like a squashed grape.
There was no mistaking what Eliza was trying to tell her.
Go inside.
Logan caught up with her. “Should I come with you?” His eyes filled with concern. Midnight shook her head.
“We’ve got no idea what’s in there. I’ll go in, and you can call Tabitha.”
Logan opened his mouth as if he wanted to protest. Then he gave her a quick nod. “Okay. But be careful.”
“I will,” she said and then took a deep breath as Eliza began to flicker. Her pale colors became infused with dark streaks of gray, angry like a bruise.
Whatever Eliza was trying to show her was obviously urgent. Midnight stepped forward into the tent.
CHAPTER SIX
Despite the blazing sun, the tent was filled with inky darkness. Midnight was tempted to use her phone as a flashlight, but she had no idea what was waiting for her. Eliza’s soft, rosy hues offered enough light for Midnight to move forward into a long corridor. From the outside, the tent hadn’t been much bigger than a phone booth, yet inside, the end of it was nowhere in sight. She shivered.
The floor was covered with layers of carpet that let her move silently forward while the walls pulsed and swayed as she passed them. She tightened her grip on her backpack as Eliza continued forward into a large room.
Midnight came to an abrupt halt.
The enormous space was illuminated by a glittering chandelier that was sending prisms of light bouncing out, while the walls were covered with huge circus posters. They were old and faded, like the tent’s exterior.
One was a lion tamer, and another was a muscular man sitting on top of a cannon. A third had a woman standing on top of an elephant, and the final one was a picture of the same old-fashioned ringmaster who’d been on the circus posters plastered all over town.
Carlo’s long-dead relative, Eduardo De Rossi.
The family resemblance was strong, but Eduardo had glossier hair and a mesmerizing smile that glowed against the dull light. A tall top hat was perched on his head at a rakish angle, and his dark eyes seemed to drill into her through the paper.
It’s just a poster.
Eliza darted in front of her vision as if to break the thrall.
Midnight turned away. Everywhere she looked was circus memorabilia, almost like in a museum.
A single ornate golden carousel horse from one of the carnival rides was propped up against a huge barrel, while next to it was a small cage on wheels, its bars still gleaming so brightly she had to shield her eyes.
There were more cages farther around. Bigger, and all looking as if animals had once been inside them. To the left was an old hot-dog cart, as well as a pile of glittering costumes and a rack of swords—their blades deadly sharp.
Behind them were shelves and shelves of smaller items. Reels of unused tickets, an old-fashioned megaphone, a coiled whip. Several mirrors that warped her reflection were propped against a wall, and there was a dressing table full of wigs and tubes of face paint.
And in the center of the room was a coffin-shaped box perched on a table covered with a tasseled purple cloth.
The pink fog disappeared under the table with the same panicked urgency it had used to get Midnight into the tent. She gulped. The purple tassels trailed along the floor, and the idea of poking her hand under there didn’t fill her with joy.
Eliza’s color darkened from pale pink to a dull red, and Midnight reluctantly lifted the cloth. There was nothing there. Then she narrowed her eyes. Almost camouflaged against the rug was a balled-up piece of paper.
Midnight stretched out for it as the lights in the room darkened and a soft wind swirled around her ankles.
Something was happening.
Her fingers tightened on the paper, and she scrambled away from the table as the cloth fluttered in the growing breeze and the silhouette of a body floated just above it.
Midnight stifled a scream.
The silhouette was dark, but as the gusts of cold air quickened, patches of the figure turned to gold in the flickering light, making it look like an unfinished three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle.
More golden pieces appeared until she could see the faint shape of a head. Curling hair and a long twirling mustache appeared along with a face that she’d just been looking at.
The face of the original ringmaster, Eduardo De Rossi.
But he was dead.
He’d died a long time ago, and while planodiume could stop people from aging, surely it couldn’t bring someone back from the—
Spectral transference’s different. That’s what Peter Gallagher had said. It’s alive, and once it’s transferred, all that energy has to go somewhere.
Was someone trying to bring Eduardo De Rossi back to life?
Midnight’s head spun. This was like nothing she’d dealt with before. In the past, the spectral energy had been trapped in some kind of object, or a person was using it to give themselves power. But this was worse.
I need to stop it.
She swung her backpack off her shoulder and fumbled for CARA. She’d done this a hundred times before, but it was the first time she’d ever used one of her weapons against spectral transference.
She braced her shoulder for the recoil and eased her finger down against the cool brass button. A burst of bright-white sparks shot out of the nozzle and hurtled toward the middle of the room.
The sparks encircled the glowing golden figure, and Midnight caught her breath at what was to come. But the sparks melted on impact and fell harmlessly to the ground.
It hadn’t worked.
She pressed the button again, but the white burst of sparks didn’t even reach the figure before it faded away. She rubbed her chin, trying to think, but her concentration was broken as the lights flickered.
A sharp buzzing hit her ears, and flashes of burning golden mist burst into the tent. The flashes ricocheted around the tent before darting into the prostrate glowing body on the table.
No.
Midnight instinctively aimed CARA at the raging golden light, but her fingers froze as an ear-shattering roar filled the room. It was followed by a throaty snarl that reverberated down her spine. She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to move. All she wanted was to sink into her own bed and pull a comforter over her head.
But that wasn’t an option. She dragged her reluctant gaze around to the large cage. In it was a lion.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and her heart pounded.
It roared again. Its sharp teeth flashed white as it raised a paw to try to smash open the grate.
Midnight was too terrified to scream as a second lion appeared in a nearby cage. It also let out a thundering growl and dragged its claws along the wooden base.
Dissonant music flooded the room, and lights flashed and flickered. Everywhere she looked, more animals appeared, their eyes a blaze of golden fury.
Pale-pink fog danced in front of her, and her legs finally began to work.
She thrust her weapon away and followed Eliza as the cacophony of predatory roars chased after her. She ignored them, sprinted back down the twisting and turning corridor.
Wind whipped her hair in her eyes, and it was as if dark fingers were trying to drag her back into the tent. Panic caught in her throat, but she ran until she finally reached the purple flap and blinked as bright sunshine greeted her.
Tabitha and Logan rushed to her side as she leaned forward, trying to catch her breath.
It was several minutes before she could even stand up.
“Are you okay? What happened? We’ve been worried sick.” Tabitha’s words came out in a tumble, and her usually cool, calm demeanor was panicked.
“It’s not good.” Midnight hugged her arms, letting the warmth of the sun push away the darkness of the tent. She steadied herself and told them what had happened. She was shaking by the time she’d finished.
“Lions?” Tabitha’s voice was little above a whisper. “As in real lions?”
Midnight nodded. “Whoever’s stealing the spectral energy has figured out a way to conjure things up. I was so scared, I couldn’t even move my finger.”
“Whatever they’re made from, it’s obvious what they’re doing there. Guarding Eduardo De Rossi,” Tabitha said.
“They did a very good job of it,” Midnight said. “Oh, and CARA didn’t work. In fact, it made things worse, because as soon as I pressed the trigger, the menagerie woke up and started to attack me. Which means we need to find another way to stop them.”
“We’ll figure it out. We always do,” Tabitha insisted before narrowing her eyes. “What’s in your hand?”
“Oh.” Midnight opened her palm to the crumpled piece of paper. “I forgot I had it. Eliza led me to it under the table. But then the lights went dark and the lion roared.”
“It looks like a letter,” Logan said quickly, as if not wanting her to relive what she’d just seen. That made two of them.
“Let’s see what it says.” Tabitha took it from Midnight’s hand and flattened it out. They stared at the flowing cursive. “Dated the tenth of July eighteen ninety-nine. That’s the day before Eduardo De Rossi died.”
They didn’t bother to ask how Tabitha knew the date of his death. Instead Midnight coughed and read it out loud.
“To the Bearer of This Letter,
I, Eduardo De Rossi, leave you my legacy. I am the greatest showman the world has ever seen and have dedicated my life to perfecting the true magic. Not for me some sleight of hand or tawdry back-alley deception. I’m talking about real magic. Made from the fabric of the world! Which is why I don’t fear death—because I know it’s not eternal.
If you’ve found this letter, then you’ve found my journal. Everything you need to help me return to life is there. It will show you how to get more power than you ever dreamed possible. Use it to bring me back to life, and I will share with you the final secret. A way to have everything you’ve ever dreamed about.
Until we meet again,
Yours, etc.
Eduardo De Rossi.”
“Someone’s trying to bring him back to life by using spectral transference. And they’re using his journal to do it.” Logan whistled.
“I can’t believe we’re up against a planodiume-powered dead ringmaster with a menagerie of animals. It’s the stuff of bad horror movies,” Midnight said, still trying to shake the overwhelming chaos from her mind.
“Did you see a journal when you found the letter?” Logan asked her.
“No.” Midnight’s head began to pound.
“The way I see it, we have two problems.” Tabitha studied the letter. “We need to figure out how to get past Eduardo De Rossi’s circus guards, and release the spectral energy so that it’s returned to the victims.”
“Actually.” Logan coughed, his voice grave. “There’s a third problem.”
“Like what?” Tabitha’s brows knitted together.
“Like the fact the tent’s gone,” Logan said.
“What?” Midnight and Tabitha yelled in unison. They turned around to find a food truck selling popcorn and sodas, with an overflowing trash can next to it. Impossible. Midnight took off her glasses and then slid them on again, but nothing changed. The faded purple tent that she’d just come out of was gone.
As if it had never been there.
She stepped back to where the doorway had been and pressed her hand out, trying to feel for it. Still nothing.
Logan was right.
They’d been so busy talking that none of them had seen the tent disappear. Yet, it was most definitely gone.
And worse. It wasn’t just the tent that had vanished; it was also the floating body of Eduardo De Rossi.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You look tired.” Midnight’s mom glanced up from the many scraps of paper she used for her to-do lists. “Don’t tell me Rita kept you up.”
If only.
But it wasn’t the puppy that’d disrupted her sleep; it was the lions that had been guarding the floating body of Eduardo De Rossi.
Every time Midnight closed her eyes, the shattering roars pierced her brain, while dark shadows seemed to move against the bedroom walls, leaving her shaking and very, very wide awake.
What did it mean?
And where was the tent?
Or the journal. If they could find either of those things, they would have a chance to stop whoever was stealing spectral energy, before it was too late. But that was easier said than done.
Midnight, Tabitha, and Logan had spent the previous afternoon looking for the purple tent. They’d asked people who worked at the circus and had combed the fairgrounds searching for any sign of it. But they’d found nothing and had wound up with very sore feet.
“I’m fine.” Midnight shuffled over and filled a bowl with some of her mom’s homemade granola, hoping food would help her feel less tired.
“If you’re up to it, I thought you and Taylor could drive over to the dog park on the other side of town. Phil researched it last night. There’s a special part just for puppies. Rita will love it.”
“Rita loves everything,” Taylor corrected as she wandered in, the little puppy trailing behind her. “She loves boxes, her tail, my favorite Twenty One Pilots T-shirt, Phil’s tennis racquet, and toilet paper. Besides, why does she need a puppy park when she has a perfectly good backyard to run around in?”
“I just thought it would be a nice change,” their mom said, though Midnight suspected she was referring to Taylor, not Rita. “She loves having a walk.”
At the mention of a walk, the small puppy ran around in a circle three times before running over to the door where her leash was coiled on the floor. She started to bark at it, using her paw to nudge it toward Taylor.
“Seriously, Mom? You had to say the W word?” Taylor folded her arms.
“It will do you both good. Besides, Phil and I are interviewing staff for the café all day, so you can take the car.”
“I’ll pass, thanks. I’ve got some reading to catch up on,” Taylor said in a light voice, though her hands were clenched. Then she headed back upstairs, quickly followed by Rita who’d only stopped her barking so she could bite the leash and drag it along as she raced to keep up with Taylor.
“Since when does my seventeen-year-old daughter turn down a chance to drive my car?” Her mom frowned.
“It must be a pretty good book,” Midnight said, just as her phone rang. Peter’s name flashed on the screen. Relief flooded her. She’d sent him a full report of what had happened in the tent yesterday, but she hadn’t had a response. “It’s a babysitting job. I’d better take it. Don’t worry about Taylor. I’m sure she’ll want to go to the park later this week.”
“I hope you’re right.” Her mom sighed as Midnight hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs into the safety of her own room.
“I’m not going to lie,” Peter Gallagher said. “We’re very concerned. There’s never been a reported case of someone using spectral transference to bring back the dead. And to have the energy to also create a roomful of planodiume-charged animals is unprecedented. Not to mention being able to conceal the tent.”
“Oh.” Midnight sat down on the bed. It was worse than she’d thought. “Will you send someone else in?”
“I wish that were an option. But right now we’re dealing with three Afterglow fractures, and a Black Stream in Thailand has been drained,” he said. “Here’s what we know. To transfer energy into another person, living or dead, they’d need a relic. Something personal that belonged to the person they’re trying to resurrect. It’s the relic that’s used to store planodiume. Stopping it is just a matter of destroying the relic while it’s in the presence of the person receiving the transference. This will send the stolen energy back to the victims.”
Why did Midnight get the feeling that would be harder than it sounded?
“Destroy it with what?”
“Ah. We have a theory that one of the weapons we sent you last month should work. It’s a small black box that fits onto a brass cylinder.”
“Rockstar?” Midnight pulled the suitcase out from under her bed. She opened it and flipped away the heavy blanket she’d used to hide everything. Not that her mom would ever snoop, but it wasn’t worth taking the chance.
Midnight lifted out the small device. The box had latticework across the front with black mesh peeking through underneath. Tabitha said it looked like a guitar amplifier.
“You named it?” Peter didn’t sound amused.
“Sorry,” Midnight said as she followed his instructions and snapped the cylinder onto the side of the device. There was also a slender nozzle and a shoulder strap to make it easier to carry. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as some of her other weapons. She wrinkled her nose. “Will this really work?”
