Carnival Souls

Small Talk (part 2)

Owen made sure Genzel was set for the night, laying out food and a glass of water, before the old carver barked that he "wasn't a damn dog," and Owen excused himself to go in search of food for himself. But as he stepped off the porch, Jacks stuck his head out of the barn and called him over.

With a sigh and a resigned growl of his stomach, Owen pivoted towards the double doors. The inside was murky, lit only by a single lantern that threw long shadows on the walls. The two new kelpies were stalled side by side. The black mare poked her head over the half-door at the sound of Owen's approach, only to huff in a resigned sort of way when he stepped into the pool of light.

"She likes Lira more," said Jacks with a wane smile.

"Yeah, I would too," said Owen. His face flushed when he realized what he said, but Jacks didn't seem to notice. "Anyway, what's up?"

"I wanted to ask how your trip went," said Jacks. He turned back to forking hay into the stall so the scrape of metal against the stone floor and soft rustle of settling hay masked their voices.

"It was interesting..." said Owen. All the strange events of the last three days ran through his mind like a highlight reel. Once again, the weirdness of where he was and what he was doing rolled over him like a cold, salty wave. I'm going to need so much therapy if I ever get back.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Owen kept his face impassive—he had had a lot of practice between Ethan and his mom—he had known this was coming. He had just hoped he could face it on a full stomach. Jacks' question brought Zabaria's riddle to the front of his mind again and he was tempted to get the horse keeper's take on it, but held back. He thought of how they had found no answer, no way home, and instead a piece of Genzel's past that could throw things in jeopardy. If he was taking the question literally— "No," he said aloud. "We didn't."

Jacks had his own practice keeping his facial expressions in check, but as his shoveling faltered and his head turned, Owen swore he saw his tiny glint of hope die. Jacks stopped shoveling, placed the sharp edge down with a clink, and took a deep breath. He looked directly at Owen. The thin, wiry muscles in his arms stood out as he held the pitchfork in a white-knuckled grasp.

"Then it's nothing gained, nothing lost," he said.

Owen took a half-step back. "I'm sorry, Jacks," said Owen, quietly.

Jacks went back to shoveling. "It was a long shot anyway."

Guilt gnawed at Owen from the inside, but he bit his tongue. He just hoped Jacks would forgive him when the time came.

#

The next morning while Owen was helping himself to more jam to put on his toast (a homemade peach-cactus jelly of Mitsi's design) he was interrupted mid-bite when Lira rushed into the dining room. She spotted him and made a beeline for his table, nearly scrambling over chairs in her haste.

"What's wrong?" he asked, half-standing, his toast forgotten.

Lira collapsed into the chair across from him. He sat back down. "She—Bebinn—sent a message for me—to report to her office this afternoon," she gasped.

Owen could understand why a summons might have alarmed Lira, but for her sake he remained calm. He handed her a piece of jammed toast. She took it on reflex and then appeared puzzled as to why she was holding it. Using her elbow, he guided the toast to her mouth and she took a tentative bite, giving him a questioning look.

"I get why your freaked out," he said. "But it doesn't mean she knows."

"And what if she does?" Lira said around her mouthful.

"I think she would have dragged both of us in there if she knew."

Lira took another bite, and Owen tried to resist the urge to laugh at her bulging cheeks. "And what if she's trying to crack us one at a time?" she asked.

"Then we make sure our stories match," he said decisively. He leaned back in his chair. "Pretend I'm Bebinn and I've asked you why it took so long for you to return."

Lira just stared, pupils wide. He could practically see her mind going blank. Like a shaken Etch-a-Sketch. He sighed and pushed the plate of toast and jam towards her. He almost wished he was the one being summoned. Lira, while head-strong in other ways, was clearly and understandingly terrified of Bebinn.

"Stick to the bare facts," he said. "Genzel was injured. We lost the two he caught and has to start over."

Lira took a deep breath, her thin shoulders almost touching her ears. "We got to the lake on the second day..."

----------------------------