Carnival Souls

Dealing with a Witch

           

Lira tried to keep her hands from shaking as she stepped through the cold glass into Bebinn's quarters. She rehearsed the story she had told Owen over and over again in her mind. Violin had made her memory sharp, but Bebinn's presence turned her head into a sponge where everything—thoughts, defiance, reason—leaked out through her pores. The little girl who had first stepped into the carnival four years ago had more fight than she did now and Lira hated herself for that. Who was Bebinn but another form of tormentor akin to the pig-headed kids who used to pick on her in school?

Magic definitely makes the playing field uneven, she thought.

She hadn't been in Bebinn's quarters for a while now, having done everything in her power to stay away from them, but, as before, it felt like she was stepping back in time. The furniture was antiquated and faded, fit for someone's great-grandmother's house rather than an evil sorceress. She supposed it was to make the stolen children feel more at ease before she ate them—or whatever it was she did.

The witch in question was at her desk, clothed in a royal purple dress with pointed sleeves and a black sash across her hips, counting out an odd assortment of objects on her desk. There were several glossy blue-black raven feathers, a sand-timer, and a pile of tiny multi-colored stones that Lira suspected were from the River Cantus. Bebinn draped a white lace handkerchief over them as Lira approached, hiding them from view. She smiled when Lira took the facing seat.

"Hello, dear," she said.

Lira thought again of what she had learned at the lake—that Genzel was Bebinn's father. She searched Bebinn's face for any family resemblance but found none. She must've taken after her mother.

"Hello," said Lira politely. It was always best to be polite with her.

"I heard you had quite the adventure," began Bebinn. Here it comes, thought Lira, steeling herself. She called up the story again, ready to play it for her audience for the first time. "And that you conducted yourself most admirably in the face of danger. I have to say I'm quite pleased."

Lira was momentarily stunned. This was not what she had expected. Where was this going?

Bebinn clasped her hands on the desk and leaned forward. A black diamond and emerald necklace swung free of her collar and dangled over the pile of feathers. "Your success with the kelpies has opened the door to many new possibilities. Why, I'm surprised I hadn't thought of it myself long ago."

Fear reared its ugly head in Lira's stomach, fangs poised and ready to strike.

"If your music works on the kelpies then it has the potential to work on other spirits as well. Though of course, it will have to be fine-tuned. Kelpies are one of the most—naïve—spirits. The more intelligent ones may stand to be a bit more complicated." Bebinn was talking like Lira wasn't there, but then her gaze laser-focused. "How did you know what song to play for the kelpies?"

Lira's mouth gaped open for several seconds before she managed to pull her voice out of her stomach. "I—I didn't. I mean I didn't know—it just sort of came to me."

Bebinn's mouth thinned in displeasure. "Hmm, I don't think that'll do. We can't rely on you getting it right every time after all. It is you or is it the music? We'll have to run some experiments---"

"Experiments?"  said Lira, cutting her off. Her fingernails dug into the old wooden chair as she leaned backwards.

"Yes, dear" said Bebinn, impatiently. "We can't know for sure if it works on everyone. They'll have to be controlled tests of course. I'll have a room prepared."

"What kind of experiments?" she countered loudly. Black spots danced along the edge of her vision and she sucked in a deep breath.

Bebinn leaned back, eyeing Lira like a toddler who was throwing a fit in a supermarket. "It'll be perfectly safe."

Yeah, right. Lira dug deep to pull out the anger her twelve-year-old-self had felt back when she first arrived. "What if I don't want to be an experiment?"

Bebinn tsked, obviously not caring about Lira's anger. "I thought we were making progress with you, dear. You've been doing so well, especially with reigning in that boy—the carver. And Atlas has said you've been quite settled, finally thinking of this place as home."

Dammit, Atlas. Tears sprang to Lira's eyes. She knew the little girl only wanted to help, but whatever she thought she would achieve by telling Bebinn had clearly back-fired.

"And now with your new level of musical ability, I thought we could finally move forward together as partners. I feel terrible that our relationship has been strained all these years and this might be a chance to get to know each other better."

She's nuts. But with her wide blue eyes that had melted from their usual ice chips into inviting blue pools and her down-turned red lips, Bebinn's act was almost believable. Almost.

"Of course," continued Bebinn when Lira said nothing. "I don't need your permission. You belong to me and you'll do whatever I say regardless if you want to or not. But, I'd rather not do it that way. I might have something that will convince you this is your best option." From her pocket, Bebinn pulled a leather bracelet that was carved with a whorl of symbols and glyphs with tiny jade beads inlaid throughout the design. It winked in the firelight.

"What is it?" asked Lira.

Bebinn laid it flat on the desk between them. A gold leopard ring glittered on her right hand, one of its paws seeming to reach out and guard the leather bracelet. "Do you remember Baleros?" she asked.

Lira's eyes flashed from the desk to the witch's face which was turned up in a knowing smile. She didn't wait for Lira to answer. She didn't have to.

"This will help stop you from becoming him. Stop the violin from stealing your soul and your humanity. It's yours if you agree to help me."

Lira bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Not to fling herself over the desk at Bebinn and tear her apart.

"Do we have a deal, dear?"

Lira hung her head.