Nate stayed in the shadows, watching the drama. It seemed almost surreal to him. None of these folk were ordinary folk. Not like Nalia or himself. Add that to the intensity of the confrontation and he felt, for a moment, very out of his depth. 

That moment passed and he got over it. He always did, logic prevailed. He would survive, find a way to do what he was contracted to do, and be on his way. The end justified the means in this case, even if he was the one to take the hit. Nalia would need protecting here, she was too hot headed. Judging by what he just witnessed her fiery temperament could get her in a lot of trouble here. She would have to carefully choose targets for her ire. Some folk would just as soon as kill her as put up with her, he would have to watch her back for that. 

He stood once the others had left, his mind dark and brooding. Lia wouldn’t be able to handle this new life, Nate was pretty sure of that. For all her bluster she was used to the ordinary, the explainable. And she actually had a soft heart, when someone hadn’t pissed her off. None of this was explainable and most of the folk they would have to take souls from would be innocent. Only her anger would keep her shielded from what she would have to do; keep her from getting melancholy and depressed. He would just have to keep reminding her of things that made her angry and be as annoying as possible. 

He grinned a little as he walked along. She did sacrifice a lot to stay with him, the least he could do was annoy her for her own good. The night was dark and there was a chill in the air. He had learned much tonight, though to most it would not seem that way. Most importantly he had realized that this was no illusion, game, or dream. He squared his shoulders and headed back to his sleeping cart. He would think on what to make of himself now, it had to be something good.

The cool emptiness of the wagon greeted him when he entered. His eyes went immediately to the place Nalia had dropped her jacket. It was gone and Nate was surprised. Normally she didn’t like wandering about in the dark, or in general. With sigh Nate turned around and headed back out to look for his sister. She would probably get into trouble if he wasn’t around, she took so much looking after sometimes.

***

Nalia wandered from the party, the music still ringing in her head. It was somewhat discordant, disjointed in tone but the tempo was good. Nalia found herself mentally dancing to it. She hadn’t danced in years, well before she had quit gymnastics she had quit dancing. But like gymnastics she loved it. It was the movement, the flow she loved. There was something that gave her an edge of freedom and as she walked she began choreographing the dance in her mind. 

That thought lead to another and she was seeking out an empty tent. The large carnival tents were somewhat spooky in the night. Empty of all people they were silent and even though the walls were cloth they echoed. Nalia found one that was not completely dark, low lamps flickered around the tent, throwing odd shadows on the stage floor. She didn’t stick close to examine the lights but rather made her way through the dancing shadows to the stage in the middle of the tent. The sand in the center ring was soft but not very deep and looking around to judge if any watched Nalia was satisfied with her solitude. She shrugged out of her bulky jacket and stripped off her shirt and tossed her shoes and socks to one side. Clad only in her bra, jeans, and bare feet she walked to the center of the ring and took a deep breath. It had been a long time.

As she exhaled she spun in a pirouette, a very ungraceful pirouette. Man she was out of practice. She tried again and her balance was a bit better. And so she continued. Each move was a little more stable. She hadn’t warmed up or stretched out or anything so as she moved she felt each move in her body, sore in a way she hadn’t been in many years. Still the music in her head led her dance and she was moving through the shadows mixing ballet with a more modern style blending the two as she had once been taught. 

It freed her mind to wander and soon she was unaware of anything save her own loosely floating thoughts. It was, in a way, meditation. The music in her head led the dance and her body followed. By the time she stopped she was coated in a sheen of sweat, her body aching terribly. She was a bit short of breath and she sat on the edge of the center ring to catch her breath. She didn’t notice the eyes that watched her from the shadows.

Once she had caught her breath she rose. She was cold now, her sweat drenched skin made matters worse and she shivered as she tugged her shirt on. Her shoes and socks and jacket followed and she turned to leave, almost tripping over Nate who was standing in the shadows. 

“Hey Lia” he said casually and smiled almost impishly up at his sister. 

Nalia frowned. “How long have you been there?” 

“Long enough to see you dancing half naked around the room. I’m sorry I mean to say falling half naked around the room.”

Nate was fast enough to dodge the blow that Nalia aimed his way. 

“I mean come on Lia, you haven’t danced in what, forever. I bet you feel like that time Tommy Masathon beat you to a bloody pulp”

“He DID NOT beat me to a bloody pulp!!” Nalia hissed back. “I broke his nose and his arm, he merely bruised me.”

“A lot of bruises” commented Nate helpfully. 

“Hey I did it for you brat” said Nalia defensively. 

Nate nodded. He hadn’t forgotten. Most of the beatings Nalia took, and dished out…she hadn’t been exaggerating on what she did to Tommy…were to protect Nate. 
“I know Lia” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Nalia looked at the boy and nodded as she slung her arm around him. 

“Lets head back to our rooms brat” she said softly. “We can worry about stuff in the morning.”

Nalia was feeling better, sore as hell, but better. Nate was also more relaxed, though his mind was still working through problems he felt better than he had earlier. He and Nalia walked comfortably back to their wagon. They never noticed the other pair of eyes that had been watching Nalia in the tent. 

*****

Vol loped through the darkness with ease. He wasn’t a thief now, but anyone who saw the casually disheveled siren move through the shadows with such familiarity could tell he was comfortable in shadows and darkness. He avoided meeting anyone with a skill that was partly natural and partly honed on the streets. He was not “himself” at the moment…divested of his usual costume he was more “himself” than ever. He just didn’t share this side of himself with anyone if he could help it. 

He found Morgue before he found Seil and it was a simple procedure to hand off all the knowledge of his foray over the carnival grounds. He did not worry about it, it was not his problem. As far as he could tell this was a growing attack aimed directly at Seil. Vol was confident in himself, supremely confident. He was also, surprisingly, confident in Seil. The man’s only weakness was his lady, and Vol considered that a pretty big weakness. On the other hand if this attack was aimed at Seil in trying to protect his lady Seil would protect everyone. 

So Vol wasn’t worried. He reminded himself didn’t really have it in him to be worried anyway, far too self absorbed most of the time. Still he didn’t feel like returning to his quarters. There was nothing he was interested in at the moment so with a whistle to the wolverines he left Morgue with his findings and headed off into the dark. Better the dwarf handle the breaking the news anyway. Vol could guess what it meant, he had a passing familiarity with voodoo but no practical knowledge so he had no specifics. He didn’t like to admit that some of that disturbed him and he would be best away from people. 

He was in a mood to sing anyway, and like Imalia when he sang people fell. He could control his voice in normal conversation, shield others from its effects. He could pitch his voice to target only a specific person. None of this could he do if he were to sing. So he sought solitude, a place where his well trained and practiced voice wouldn’t carry to anything but the animals and trees.

There were not many places one could go to be alone on the carnival grounds. Normally Vol would have gone up…up a tree, to the roof of a building, or similar. Unfortunately a disturbingly large number of folk at the carnival could fly. Which meant that “up” was not an acceptable place to go. So he found his way to Imalia’s tent, he doubted his song would affect her and her tent was empty. She was “out”…at least not visible. Vol didn’t care, he didn’t interact much with her and left her to achieve her own ends in whatever manner suited her best. He occasionally wondered why she allowed herself to be chained and exhibited like a bug in a jar but he had never asked. 

He settled in the back of the tent, crossed his legs, and sang pouring his thoughts into his song. It was wordless, a funerary dirge, and the dark sadness Vol poured into the song would have entrapped any listener in deep melancholy that would have spiraled them deeper and deeper into depression. Vol never wondered why when he sang it was always songs of sadness, darkness and regret, rarely did he weave joy, happiness, lust, or allure into his songs. Eyes closed he sang until a few hours before dawn. It was then he rose, refreshed and relaxed, and left the other siren’s tent, gone before she returned. At least Vol still didn’t see her. He did spot a well gnawed chicken head, courtesy of one of his wolverines. Where in the heck were they finding all these chicken heads, the gnomes should have cleaned this place up, there shouldn’t be random chicken heads lying around for his mischievous friends to find. Nevertheless he scooped it up not wanting to leave trash in the other siren’s home or office or whatever this space was to her. Vol returned to his quarters and slept for the last few hours before morning pounded rudely forced him to wake and begin another day, another of same ol' same ol' routine.

He hadn’t seen Calista in a long time, he wanted to sing but he rarely performed without her. Her illusions turned his ballads into real stories. He would see if anyone knew where she was, singing seemed to be on his mind for some time. He would like to perform in that manner this day but he liked to have a partner when he did. 

He poured himself a shot of brandy as he rose for his morning ablutions. It was a long process, a routine that centered himself for the day. One that was as important to him as stretching to a runner or prayer for a priest.

********

Nate was up before dawn, he had slept poorly thoughts still tumbling in his mind preventing rest. He left the wagon before dawns light even reached the sky. He had no place in mind when he left and soon found himself just sitting in the cool air watching the sky lighten. He came up with three possibilities of things he could do to make his way and complete his contract. He would find someone later today, now finally he felt he could rest. Really rest. 

He leaned back against the tree trunk he was resting under, closed his eyes, and drifted off into a deeper sleep than he had experienced all night.

Nalia woke to an empty wagon, again. The white walls and sterile setting was starting to wear on her. It made her edgy. She slept well enough, she was exhausted after all, and woke sore and stiff. Feeling edgy on top of that did not make her happy. She groaned as she looked around for clean clothing to change into. There was none. 

The idea of pulling her grungy clothing back on, and staying in sweat soaked undergarments was revolting. More clothing was a must. In addition to a way to make their quarters more homey. And food. She realized she was starving. 

She would hunt up Ty and see if the woman could help. Nalia wondered briefly where Nate was but figured her brother would be out and about doing…whatever. Nate sometimes puzzled even her. She knew him better than anyone else did but he was often too smart for his own good. She hoped he was staying out of trouble at least. 

She pulled on her grungy clothing, wincing at the smell and feel as she did so. Wincing also from the pain of doing so. Lifting her legs was a bit of a challenge. She had been stupid last night. Her body was telling her so now. She hoped she could keep up with whatever Ty might want to teach her today. She would just play through the pain she supposed.

Pulling on her bulky jean jacket Nalia stepped outside and headed to Ty’s place. She found the other woman working out and caught her breath. Once again she was struck by Ty’s beauty and grace. Once again she felt a little embarrassed, a lot awed, and very tongue tied and she halted in her tracks. She was still for what seemed like an eternity before she forced herself to move forward.

“Miss Ty” she said softly not wanting to interrupt the woman if she was doing something that should not be interrupted. “I was hoping you might tell me where to find some workout clothes, all I have are these jeans and a t-shirt. Also maybe a bite of food. We, Nate and me, haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. I want to leave some in the wagon for him. Then I’ll be ready to start.”