Eastside was a crossroads in Galanburg. An intermediary area between the capital proper and the shantytowns and ruins of the great fire. The carnival had found prime real estate, and William actually found it uplifted his spirits that the carnival had survived the prior catastrophes when so many other things had been destroyed. He stepped down a small flight of well trodden steps that were in desperate need of resculpting, and waited as a carriage ride full of children passed. To his left, a myriad of excited parents from the lower middle class clapped and smiled and waved at their boys and girls. 

He passed the road, into the carnival proper. It was a forest of white and red pavillions and lines of multicolored banners webbing the sky above the festival-goers. There were still a few hours of small daylight left, and everyone was making the most of it. The swelling crowd made the air thick, and to his surprise he heard a jaunty tune of his own people. He stepped past city folk that baltered and laughed, clapping with each step. A ghost of a smile met his face. He saw pie eating and bobbing for apples, a man in a tall hat walking on stilts, nearly colliding with William before the nimble sailor dodged the flying leg.  

He saw a man in the costume of the late king setting above a dunk tank, with an arrow target one could shoot to activate the simple mechanism to send him splashing into the murk. There was an axe throwing competition next to it, with wenches and would-be gallants standing far too close to the onlookers, drawing their axes back and nearly cutting into the roudy crowd. Will practically had to leap over a gambling ring of eight men, and as he weathered it, a pander stepped in front of him, smiling a smile that showed a mouth of ivory and faux gold teeth. Will could smell yesterday's lunch on his breath. 

"Care to fight the champion in a bout of swords, my goodman?" He asked simperingly. "Only five pence!" 

"I'm looking for a woman," Will said, failing to hide his accent, mostly out of habit. 

"What better way to woo said strumpet than by winning at a strength of arms! How would you prove-" 

Will flinched when an axe head was drawn back, nearly hitting him in the face. With an annoyed grunt, he took the axe out of the careless customer's hand, spun on his heels and launched the axe. It spun end over end (through several people's paths!) and hit the bullseye, sending the King James look-alike into the dirty water. At that, he turned back to the stunned solicitor. "I'm good enough, now where are the gypsies?" 

He was shakily led through the maze of colors as the skulking man faltered, smiling peevishly at William at every turn, before they found themselves before an impromptu structure of three wagons with draperies and exotic furnishing just in front of an old, ruined building. The luciferite lights gave it a warm, if ominous feeling, and he felt as if he was about to enter a den of wonders. Nice theater, he thought. At least there was still some bit of imagination in this land. 

"You can go-" He began, the final word sounding like 'gooo,' but the man had already disappeared into the crowd. With that, William McTaggart drew his cloak around himself, and stepped through the small entrance. With any luck, she would be here.