Page 4 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)
The Hall of Mirrors
We shuffled past the crowds of people who were heading in the same direction we were.
Up ahead, bright lights glowed in pinks, blues, and greens, illuminating the large tents and high-tops of the carnival.
The lights moved and hovered above the participants like so many fireflies, causing more than one child to hop up to try to catch one.
There was an assortment of humans here, from far off Balingua near the Pouroe Desert, their bronze skin glistening in the lights.
Some were from my own realm of Camlynn, based upon the green dragon insignia on their lapels.
Others from here in Gastona, the central country Evraka was situated in, judging by their silk sashes and velvet attire.
But there were also non-humans too. The inquisitive, brawny elves from smog-filled Tirvinir meandered about, effortlessly parting the crowd with their towering presence. There were various fey too, of course.
A large toad, as tall as me, walked along on two legs, carrying a curved cane and bowing with his top hat aloft to every lady he saw. A swamp crone slinked about, with her tell-tale hunched posture and squinted black eyes looking over the assembled.
I didn’t see any dwarves, but that was no surprise. Having only met two myself, they didn’t like to leave Fomona unguarded, after their original home of Kibel was destroyed.
As we moved into the clearing that housed the entrance gate, there was a dizzying display of jugglers and fire eaters blowing puffs of multi-colored flame out above the heads of screaming, excited children.
Beyond the gates, games, no doubt rigged, dotted the landscape.
What looked to be the Hall of Mirrors took up a large plot of land to my far left.
It was an inevitable destination, so I noted its location.
A haunted house made up the other end to my right.
An enormous amphitheater sat in the center, with its bright lights and loud music.
A large human family consisting of two parents herding four squirrelly children jostled me when I had stopped to look at the area.
Stating my apologies, and bowing my head, one of the children looked up at me, wide-eyed.
She touched the shield covering my back, its steel surface showing a golden four-pointed star, and whispered, “Are you a protector?”
“I am.” My smile dimmed when I noticed the child’s fingers were covered in chocolate. At least, I hope it’s chocolate. A series of brown fingerprints now blemished my shield, and I dug into my pouch for a cloth to clean it.
“Wow,” she whispered. “I’ve never met one of you before.”
Plucking the cloth from my pouch, I knelt in front of her. “Do you know what a protector is, honey? What we do?”
The girl dipped her head shyly, chewing on her lip. “You help people.”
My smile returned at her succinct answer. “Yes. A protector follows Horyn. We are sworn to someone who needs protection.” I took my shield off my back and pointed to the four-pointed star.
“Each point of the star stands for one of the four-” I searched for a smaller word than ‘tenet’ so the child would understand. “...beliefs of a protector. Do you know them?”
When she shook her head, I pointed to the first. “Vigilance. We are always ready. ”
Then, the second. “Self-sacrifice. We give so others may live.”
With the third point, I said, “Patience. We aim for calmness and understanding.”
My finger stopped at the final point. “And fortitude. We bear what others cannot.”
Protectors often found themselves the bodyguards of the rich and powerful, guardians of the church itself, or, on the rare occasion, adventurers - going where needed and guarding whomever needed guarding. I was the latter, at the moment.
They almost always had a purpose. Someone or something to protect. A charge.
Not yet, but soon.
Wiping down my shield to remove the brown mystery substance, its surface gleaming once more, my hand froze when the girl’s brown-covered fingers neared my shield again.
“Come along, Mira.” The girl’s mother took her hand before she could touch and pulled her away to get into the queue that was now forming at the gate entrance.
A nudge from Raewyn drew my attention as I stood.
She adjusted her mask and hood as she looked on.
A trash receptacle stood off to the side.
Knowing better than to toss it from a distance, I simply walked over to throw the dirty cloth away.
Raewyn nudged me again when I returned, harder this time. “We’d better get in line. You’re paying.”
“And why exactly am I paying for you? Do you not have funds?”
She grinned without looking my way as we joined one of the lines. “I do, but the bigger sister is supposed to take care of the little sister. Besides, you paid last time, remember?”
I sighed, stepping up when the line had cleared ahead of us. “Very well.”
It didn’t take long before we made it to the booth, though Raewyn was beginning to hop on her toes and grumble about the queue’s efficiency.
A small green man, with large pointed ears and sharp pointed teeth, hopped up on his stool and spread his arms wide.
“Hehe, welcome to the Fey Carnival, misses! Shall that be two tickets?”
I nodded at the little goblin and shelled out some coin. “How much?”
“For adults, five silver per, my dear! One gold coin in total!”
My heavy coin plunked down on the window’s sill, and it disappeared, making my sister clap and gasp in delight as she watched.
“Oh, how clever! I need to learn how to do that.”
Distracted with closing my coin purse, I hummed absently then replied, “Do what, Raewyn?”
She chirped. “Make money disappear as soon as it’s in front of me. It would make gambling so much simpler.”
Eyeing my sister, it suddenly made sense to me why I was paying. I didn’t know she gambled.
The goblin giggled. “ Crowns or lapel pins for your tickets?”
“Crowns, please,” I answered him while keeping my suspicious gaze on Raewyn. “Am I to understand you aim to pilfer funds before you’ve won them?”
Raewyn shrugged. “Maybe… oh, our tickets!”
The goblin held out two flowered crowns, one to each of us. They were the same as they had been so many years ago, and my anxiety spiked.
“To signify you have paid, my dears, and here’s a program of events! NEXT!”
I plucked the program and the crowns from the teller with a grateful nod, handing one of the flowery pieces to Raewyn as we moved to the side. Raewyn immediately donned hers, adjusting it over her porcelain mask.
“How do I look?” She turned this way and that to give me the best vantage.
“Lovely, Raewyn. As always.” It was unnecessary to lie. My sister, despite the scars hidden under her mask, was a striking woman, and the flowers only enhanced her beauty .
She beamed and motioned to me. “Well, put yours on!”
The delicate crown of real flowers sat limp in my hands as I admired the silken petals and woven stems. It was a pretty piece, I admitted to myself. Maybe I could do this. Adjusting it over my hair carefully, my sister confirmed it sat well with a cheery smile.
“Beautiful, now let’s go !”
She grabbed my hand and began to drag me to the nearest game as a child would their parent.
The sights and sounds and smells of the carnival hit me fully.
Sprites and pixies danced above, tossing tiny globes of the colored lights between them.
Though I did not care for the scent of roasting meat, the sweet smell of pastries made my mouth water and my stomach grumble.
Raewyn stopped me in front of a tossing game, one with three blocks in a pyramid set in an open tent with a cloth backdrop.
“No, not these. They’re rigged,” I said, pointing while shaking my head.
Raewyn groaned and turned toward me. “I know, but the games are half the carnival!”
Sighing for what would probably not be the last time that night, I handed the carnie a silver piece. Enough for three balls. Raewyn squealed, taking up the balls in her small hands and gave a feeble throw. It hit the blocks but only jostled them with none falling.
“Aw, that’s a nice throw, lovey. But you still have two more. Give it your best shot!” cried the carnie.
Raewyn grumbled, rolling the two remaining balls in her hands. “What are these blocks made from? Concrete?” She gave another throw. This time it sailed past the blocks to hit the sheet behind them with a dull thud.
She exhaled in exasperation then handed me the last ball. “See if you can, Nat.”
Taking the ball from her, I stepped up to the table. “I will try, but throwing is not my strong suit, Raewyn. ”
Everything has a weakness.
Aiming between the lower two blocks, my arm pulled back and released. The ball careened toward the blocks and then curved to hit the platform holding them. It shook the blocks, but they still did not fall.
“Missed! You missed! I can’t believe it!” Raewyn yelled, throwing her hands up. “You did worse than I did!”
A bitter part of me wanted to ask the carnie if the balls were enchanted to curve like that. “I told you. Throwing is not my strong suit.”
Raewyn let out a groan, and the carnie stepped up.
“One more silver gets you four balls. Yes, four. I said four. Would you be willing, loveys?”
Raewyn looked at me with childlike hope in her eyes, only to have her hopes dashed when I answered the carnie, “No. We’ll find some other game.”
“But-but…four!” Raewyn looked back at the game and the carnie, who was now yelling about five balls.
“Come, Raewyn. We’ll find something else to do.” My eyes shifted again to the area where the Hall of Mirrors sat, as though silently beckoning me to another meeting. Dread clawed my stomach with frosty fingers.
“Like finding you company for the night.” Raewyn sidled up beside me, grinning as though the game no longer existed.
Distracted, I turned to her. “Huh?” What she said finally registered, my teeth clenched. “Raewyn…”