Luke found Zac squatting in the hallway outside his bedroom. He’d been wondering whether Zac had actually even bothered to stay here last night. Now that they were out of Dwight, there were probably plenty of places Zac could go.
He’d mentioned brothers. He must have had friends or family he could hide out with.
But Zac was there, waiting patiently at his bedroom door.
‘Don’t you ever sit like normal people?’ said Luke.
‘I’m comfortable like this,’ said Zac.
‘What is a vegan, anyway?’ said Luke.
‘What’s that got to do with how I sit?’
Luke shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You are weird, though. What are you doing in the hallway?’
‘I don’t like it here,’ said Zac.
‘Yeah, I can really understand why you feel that way, Zac,’ said Luke. ‘I mean, it really is rundown and dirty, and there’s hardly any space for us. I suppose it would have been much better to sleep under a bridge or out in the freezing rain last night.’
‘Have you seen the cats?’ said Zac.
‘I’ve seen
a
cat.’
Zac gave him a meaningful stare.
Luke laughed. Cats? Now he doesn’t like cats?
‘You’re freaking me out, Spiderman,’ he said, reaching down a hand and dragging Zac to his feet. ‘Where’s our host?’
Zac shrugged. ‘When are we leaving?’
‘Where do you want to go?’ Luke began walking down the hall, towards the kitchen.
‘Where do
you
want to go?’ said Zac.
‘I want to find my sister,’ said Luke.
‘Agreed,’ said Zac. ‘I think we need to do that, fast.’
Luke stopped walking. Suddenly, thoroughly, he’d had too much of the riddles. He turned and prodded Zac in the chest with his forefinger. Hard.
‘
We’re
not going anywhere, Nguyen,’ he said. ‘In fact, I’m
going to take off right now and have nothing to do with you, unless you tell me who you are and who you think
I
am. And why you’re so interested in helping me find my sister.’
‘Deal,’ said Zac, moving back a step. ‘I think I now have something I can tell you. I really didn’t know before why I was sent to help you, but if you are who I now believe you are, you’re gonna need all the help you can get.’
Zac turned and began walking.
‘But if you ever poke me in the chest like that again,’ he said, throwing the words back over his shoulder, ‘you’d better be prepared to live with only nine fingers.’
They found Georgia upstairs in a decked-out lounge room ranging across half of the middle level of the home. The entire back wall of the room was glass, looking out over the harbour. Georgia curled cat-like on a sprawling red leather lounge, her eyes on a massive flat-screen, killing aliens with the gaming control in her hands.
Another haughty Siamese cat sat on an armrest next to her, staring down its long nose at them. A black-and-white cat sat like a miniature panda beside her, cleaning its belly. It raised its lime-green eyes to judge them, and then resumed its duties with particular gusto.
‘Well, don’t you ladies sleep forever,’ Georgia said, without taking her eyes from the screen. ‘Help yourselves to whatever you want in the kitchen.’
Luke figured they may as well eat before they left, so he and Zac headed back downstairs. He cracked the door of the fridge and leaned in. A giant chocolate cake beckoned at face height. There were strawberries, a cling-wrapped bowl of fried chicken, a two-litre bottle of chocolate milk and half a leg of ham.
‘This place,’ Luke said. ‘I love this place.’
He pulled out the ham, a jug of orange juice and a block of Swiss cheese.
‘What can you eat?’ he said.
Zac peered over his shoulder into the fridge. ‘Just pass me the strawberries,’ he said. ‘And I’ll have some toast.’
‘How do you live like that?’ said Luke. ‘Not eating meat?’
‘Well, I don’t know how you live like you do,’ Zac said. ‘You see, when you realise that all animals are sentient, and they just want to live like we do, it seems rather, um, disgusting to murder them and eat their flesh.’
Luke grinned, slicing ham. ‘You don’t seem particularly fond of the cats, though,’ he said.
An orange cat sat on the granite benchtop watching them. His fat hindquarters spread out across the surface like a giant puddle of marmalade.
‘I’m not happy with these cats,’ agreed Zac.
‘Well, I
like
them,’ said Luke. ‘And I like their house a lot. You reckon you can figure out how to use the griller on that oven?’
Luke sliced more ham and some cheese while Zac grilled four slabs of bread. He decided that now was as good a time as any to find out more about himself.
‘Tell me what you know,’ he said.
‘I don’t think this is the right place to talk,’ said Zac.
Luke stabbed his knife into the wood. ‘Well, I’m not waiting any more, Zac. I thought we agreed.’
Zac met Luke’s eyes and then dropped his gaze to the floor. He raised his left foot and rested it against his right leg. He lowered it, and balanced on the other foot. Finally, he blew a huge sigh.
‘Well, firstly, I’m an elf. So there’s that,’ he said.
Luke left the knife where it was. He didn’t think he could trust himself with it right now.
‘Come on, Luke,’ continued Zac. ‘You know I’m not like you. You people are sooo slow. You’ve seen me run.’
‘So you can run fast.’
‘And fight.’
‘You’re a good fighter.’
‘And what I did with the mushrooms.’
Luke snorted. ‘So, you’re not a gardener or a cook. That doesn’t makes you an elf or a pixie or whatever. Oh my God, Zac, why would you even choose to be an
elf
if you were going to go all fairytale on me? Couldn’t you at least have been a vampire or something? They’re all the rage at the moment.’
‘You’re hilarious,’ said Zac. ‘Well, how did I open the gates at Dwight when we were about to crash the swamp rat right into them?’
‘You said the guards did it,’ said Luke, faltering. ‘To let the ambulance through.’
‘How did we leave the running track without Singh or anyone else seeing us? Why did the transit cops walk right past us on the train, and not see us at all?’ Zac pulled the bread out from under the grill.
‘Lucky?’ said Luke.
‘Magic,’ said Zac. ‘I have a little. Some elves have a lot. We can draw upon the forces of nature to change the way people see things. And we’re very fast.’
The orange cat stretched out along the benchtop, head on its paws, listening carefully.
‘There’s no such thing as elves,’ said Luke. ‘There are
such things as psychiatrists, though. And we need to hook you up with one.’
Zac cocked his head to one side. ‘Black,’ he said.
Luke raised his head.
Zac leapt up onto the bench in one lithe bound, grabbed the knife from the chopping block, flung it across the room and then disappeared. Luke blinked and Zac stood on the opposite side of the large kitchen, holding the quivering knife.
The marmalade cat hissed, scrabbled fat feet on the granite, and took off.
Luke climbed onto a barstool. He needed to sit down.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘that changes things.’
Samantha tried to sit up, decided that was probably not going to work, and lay back down. Her head hurt so much that it felt like her brain was a lump of metal and a magnet beneath the floor was doing its very best to suck it out of her skull.
She opened her eyes.
‘You look like crap,’ said Birthday Jones.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said. ‘And, um, where
is
here?’
The ceiling above her was pitched to a point and painted in thick pink and lime stripes. The colours were a tad bright right now, and she closed her eyes again.
‘We just saved your arse,’ said Birthday Jones.
‘What was wrong with my arse?’ she asked, eyes still closed. ‘And who is
we
?’
She had a feeling that something bad had just happened to her, but exactly what, she was not sure. And right now she was thinking that maybe that was a good thing, because of her metal brain and the magnet and all.
‘Sam, this is Seraphina Woods,’ said Birthday.
Sam opened her eyes. A beautiful woman’s face appeared.
‘Call me Sera,’ said the woman, smiling down at her. ‘Hi.’
‘What’s going on?’ said Samantha.
She raised her head and managed to lean up on her elbow. Her stomach lurched with the movement. And suddenly everything flooded back – Boldo and Shofranka, the ninjas …
‘Tamas!’ she screamed, struggling to her feet.
The room spun, faded to white and she would have fallen had the woman not grabbed her.
‘Samantha, honey. You’re weak right now. Don’t panic,’ the woman said.
‘Where is Tamas?’ she managed, panting.
‘He’s out there,’ said Seraphina. ‘The paramedics are with him.’
‘Is he –’ Samantha couldn’t think it, let alone say it.
‘He’s going to be okay, thanks to you,’ said Seraphina.
‘I need to see him.’
‘You can’t go out there, Sam,’ said Birthday. ‘The Yakuza took off when we snatched you and the police arrived –’
‘But they’re still out there,’ said Seraphina. ‘And they’re Japanese mafia, Sam. They will take on the police if they believe they can capture you.’
What do the Japanese mafia want with me? thought Samantha, followed by, I have to sit down. Right at that moment her knees gave way.
‘Birthday, bring me that chair, would you,’ said Seraphina.
Eyes closed, Sam heard a chair being scraped towards her and she dropped into it, guided by the woman holding her. She put her head between her knees and tried not to vomit. The musky smell of Tamas’s blood saturating her T-shirt and jeans didn’t help with those efforts. But it was much more than that – she had never felt so incredibly weak and exhausted.
What is wrong with me? she wanted to know.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ she groaned.
‘You performed a very powerful healing spell, Samantha White,’ said Seraphina. ‘And given that you’ve absolutely no training, you’re lucky to be alive.’
Oh great, thought Samantha, eyes on her sneakers. This must be some Roma witch who’s spun so much bull to the Gaje that she’s convinced herself it’s true. I need to get out of here. Is Tamas really going to be okay?
The image of blood pulsing from his throat caused a sob to rise to her mouth. She bit down on it. Did Boldo still have Shofranka? What if Lala had woken up and was frantic for them? Was Mirela okay? She needed to find them now, and Birthday Jones and this woman were not going to stop her.
The woman knelt in front of her, dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Her skin was fresh cream, flawless. Underneath a khaki trucker’s cap, her eyes glowed amber, multifaceted, golden. They emitted so much warmth and kindness that Samantha had to blink. Why did this stranger seem to give a damn about her?
‘Who are you?’ she said.
‘I work for Save the Children. We help street kids all over the world. Birthday Jones is my friend.’
‘Are you Gaje?’ asked Samantha, not because that mattered, only because she was trying to figure things out.
‘I’m not from Romania,’ said Sera.
‘Samantha, you’re being rude,’ said Birthday, folding his arms across his black T-shirt.
A khaki trucker’s cap hid his curls and Samantha suddenly did a double take. Sera was wearing the same outfit, right down to the cargos.
‘What are you, my private army?’ she said.
‘Um, kinda,’ said Sera.
‘You don’t look like a social worker,’ said Samantha.
‘Well, thank you,’ said Seraphina, with a wink.
Did she just wink? thought Samantha. I
have
to get out of here. She doesn’t have a clue how bad all this is. ‘I have to go back out there to them,’ she said.
‘Not going to happen,’ said Sera. She smiled sadly. ‘Best I can do is allow you to peek outside at what’s happening, but then we’ll have to go.’
‘Go?’ said Samantha.
‘Yes, honey. We have to get you out of Romania. Tonight.’
Okay, so she’s crazy, thought Samantha. At least we’ve established that.
‘Riiight,’ she said. ‘Okay, then.’
She gave Birthday a look which clearly said: what-the-hell-are-you-
thinking
-hanging-around-with-this-fruitcake?
She put on her most reasoning tone of voice. ‘Well, maybe I could just have a look at what’s going on out there. I am really worried about my friends, my family.’ And as soon as I get near the door I’m getting the hell out of here. Ninjas with killing stars, kidnapping cowboys and now some psycho social worker. Why the hell didn’t I stay in camp tonight, like Lala told me to?
‘Of course, honey,’ said Sera. ‘Just make sure you keep all parts of your body inside the Funhouse.’
The Funhouse?
Samantha took a better look around the room. The candy stripes from the ceiling continued jauntily down the walls, giving the effect of a striped circus tent, although, as far as she could tell, the walls looked solid. The floor was a
giant checkerboard; its glossy black-and-white tiles looked as though they’d never been walked upon. Opposite them, against the wall, leaned a giant mirror in an elaborate gilded frame. The chair she was sitting on was heavily padded in deep red velvet. It was the only chair in the room. And other than a royal blue door with a glass doorknob, that was it. She had definitely never seen a place like this at any other carni.
Her heart began hammering at her breastbone. She turned to Birthday.
‘Are we still at the Carnivale?’
He stared at his shoes. Not good.
‘It’s just out there, Samantha,’ said Sera, nodding towards the blue door. ‘Take a look.’
She raced across the tiles and grabbed the door handle, pausing for just a moment. What if the ninjas were still there and they spotted her? There was nowhere to hide in here. She’d be cornered. But the need to know was too strong.
She hid her body behind the door and cracked it carefully, peering out into the night. She knew that with the bright lighting behind her inside this freaky room she’d be lit up as though on stage, but she had to see what was going on.
She could glimpse just a little from this angle. The gravel road of the carni met the front door of the Funhouse, and she spotted the food tent opposite; it looked like the same one she’d seen when the ninjas were chasing her. But now it seemed to be closed for the night. A couple of carnis walked by, smoking and talking; she could hear them grumbling about losing money.