Part 21
"Sniffing Around"
Lewis held his breath as he twisted the full garbage bag shut and lifted it out of the can to replace it with a fresh liner.
It had been a full week of keeping his head down, emptying trash cans and gathering bits of trash discarded by customers as they explored the carnival. He had managed to earn the approval of Casey and keep within the good graces of Mr. Storm, all while avoiding Krasimir Schlimme and the Phantasmenagerie. He couldn't even look in the direction of those creepy black gates without shuddering. Occasionally, he'd see Adolf stomping through the carnival on some sort of errand for Mr. Sclimme, but as Casey had said, the boundary between Storm's carnival and Schlimme's attraction was not breached often.
Some of the cans Lewis had to empty were close enough to the "menagerie" that he could see the milling forms of the "attendants"--slouching, awkward figures that passed for human on first glance, but the one time Lewis couldn't help staring, he found that they all had an eerie quality about them that betrayed their true natures, even if the unsuspecting public couldn't see it.
On the Saturday after Lewis' first full week, a large group of teenagers on some sort of holiday passed by the entrance booth of Storm's carnival, and every one of them bought admission to the Phantasmenagerie. Lewis wagged his head as they didn't even pause at any carnival games or rides, but headed right for those shining resin gates. He imagined he could hear the cries of the gryphon and Gathlen's pained whinnies issuing from somewhere in that fog-ridden wasteland. Every so often, he'd hear a high-pitched cackle, but it was so consistent that he could dismiss it as a sound-effect from some display. It irked him, how clever the so-called artist was: mingling things that were obviously fake among his real captives, also done over to look artificial, so that anybody looking at them would automatically assume that everything was fake.
Just as he was about to pick up some refuse that missed the trash can five feet away, a flurry of movement caught his eye. Lewis almost flinched, but it was only Ashwyn who came to land on the rim of the open can.
"Someone is looking for you," she chimed faintly, taking a covert moment to slip into the pocket of Lewis' uniform polo.
Lewis winced. "Who, Mr. Schlimme or Mr. Storm?" What if it's Adolf? he thought. He had avoided encountering the burly security guard ever since the meltdown at Moulton House, after Lewis had witnessed the man transform out of his werewolf state, but if Krasimir Schlimme suspected him at all, then Adolf would be just the man--or wolf--to uncover the connection.
"Neither," Ashwyn answered. "It's somebody from the big learning place, the long-haired one. I heard her say that she knows you work here." Lewis felt her movement against his chest as she climbed up to poke her head up near the edge of his pocket. "Do you want me to gather reinforcements to stage a diversion?"
Lewis hefted the full garbage bag and put it in his dumpster cart. A carnival-goer finished the last bite of funnel cake just as he was walking by Lewis, and without even looking, the man tossed the greasy paper plate into Lewis' cart and kept moving.
"No," Lewis whispered to Ashwyn as soon as he was alone. "It's just Quincy, probably. I know her, she's harmless." He heaved the cart to get it rolling toward his next stop.
Minutes later, just as he'd left the rides and moved toward the games section, Lewis heard a familiar voice yell, "There he is!"
He glanced toward the voice to see Quincy, Jesse, and Brayden headed toward him.
Quincy grinned and waved like she was greeting a long-awaited friend returning from an extended trip. "Lewis! Good to see you! Man, it's been a while!" She gave him a small side hug as the guys opted for a more subtle greeting.
Quincy grinned and waved like she was greeting a long-awaited friend returning from an extended trip. "Lewis! Good to see you! Man, it's been a while!" She gave him a small side hug as the guys opted for a more subtle greeting.
"'Sup?" asked Brayden, as Jesse held out his hand for a friendly fist-bump.
Lewis obliged. "Hey guys. Welcome to Storm's Carnival."
"It's nice to have somewhere we can get away on the days we don't have classes," Quincy remarked, toying with the neon paper bracelet on her wrist. "There's a discount on admission for Browning students."
"Not the special exhibit, though," Jesse pointed out.
Quincy waved a nonchalant hand. "Meh, I just wanted to be able to see it at least once before it goes away. I typically like spooky stuff, especially while the weather is still cold!" she shivered and wrapped her coat closer around herself.
Lewis could tell from the nervous expressions on the group's faces that they weren't as keen as Quincy. He shifted the topic of conversation. "So, I know I haven't been in the same circles at Browning for the last couple weeks, basically just attending classes and then spending the rest of my day here. What have I missed since then?"
"Oh, big changes!" Quincy jumped in again. "You know that big catastrophe that happened at Moulton House?"
"Of course he knows, Quincy! He was there!" Jesse grunted before Lewis could say anything.
The dark-haired girl blinked. "You were? I thought you were at the other place for your new job this semester, the Warehouse."
"I did sign up for Warehouse 31," Lewis confirmed, eager for something to divert their attention away from his proximity to the place. "I might have been in the area of the museum that day, but I wasn't still working as a janitor when everything kind of fell apart."
Quincy was too eager to tell her story. "Well, anyway, word is the old building, while an important piece of history, was too damaged in the collapse to be able to restore it at all. They've moved whatever art they could salvage over to a warehouse--not the same one as you worked at, but a different storage facility--and they're tearing the whole thing down to build a new one."
"I still can't get a straight answer from anybody on what happened," Brayden said. "Some girls from my art class said they saw an actual unicorn running across the road in front of the museum, while Zane from Chemistry class swears he could see a giant hand as big as a car reaching out of the roof--but nobody had any proof of these things. I mean, just looking at the damage, it does match what the faculty says happened."
"And what do they say?" Lewis queried in a small voice.
Brayden shrugged. "Anytime somebody asked, the teachers all would say a gas line ruptured and blew off the front wall of the building, and a water-line burst and caused even more damage." He finished with a slow shake of his head.
"Any word on when you'll be back to a normal schedule and able to join us for Study Hall again?" Quincy asked. "It's dumb that we don't get to hang out like we used to."
Lewis scratched behind his ear. "I don't know," he said. "That's going to be up to the Dean, I guess."
Jesse abruptly hunched his shoulders and scooted in closer to the group of friends. "Don't look now," he whispered, "but there's a weird guy in a carnival staff uniform over by the roller coaster giving us a creepy stare."
Lewis didn't move his head but lifted his eyes to see over Jesse's shoulder. Sure enough, he spotted the man at once, but that was because only he could tell that it wasn't a man at all. The hairline was a bit to high, the torso a bit too short, the legs bent oddly in long slacks, and the arms were just a touch too long. Not to mention that he was wearing the uniform designating him as a staffer from Krasimir Schlimme's Phantasmenagerie. It had to be one of the disguised goblins, Lewis concluded.
"We should probably let Lewis get back to work, so we can look through the spooky attractions before they close down for the day," Quincy was saying. "Catch you later, Lewis!" She waved as the three of them went on their way. Lewis noticed as he returned to his work that the goblin had moved on as well. Why would Krasimir Schlimme want to spy on his friends?
After his shift ended, Lewis headed for the food court to grab a slice of pizza. Of course he didn't forget his small stowaway, sneaking bites of pizza into his pocket for Ashwyn.
"You know that goblin wasn't watching your friends, right?" she mused from down between the layers of fabric.
"I know." Lewis kept his hands folded in front of his face so it wouldn't be too obvious that he was talking. "Do you think they've figured out that I have the Phantasmagyth?"
"Oh, most assuredly!" Another voice shimmered above his head.
Lewis pretended to lean back and stretch as he located Queen Evalia flitting among the hanging floodlights over the courtyard. "There is no doubt the Captor knows for certain that the common factor in his sudden fall from dominance is you, and that at one point you were around when the Phantasmagyth went missing."
"Don't worry," Ashwyn jumped in as Lewis felt his pulse racing. "He probably assumes you know nothing about us or the way the Phantasmagyth works, so you're not too much a threat to him as long as he believes he can get ahold of the Phantasmagyth at some point."
"So... What should I do with it?" Lewis squeaked. "I can't keep it, but it sounds like I can't get rid of it, either!"
"Oh, dragons no!" Queen Evalia bellowed. "you must never let it out of your possession, until Gathlen and the others are free from the Captor's grasp. Since you were the last one to activate the Phantasmagyth, that makes you its interim guardian, until it can be safely returned to the Red-Horned Unicorn!"
Lewis leaned forward and let his head drop into his hands. "I didn't ask for this!" he moaned.
"None of us did," Ashwyn responded quietly, "and yet here we are. I believe in you, Lewis. You can see us safely home again."
Lewis sighed and leaned back to wrack his brain. "I can think of a few places to keep the Gyth in my room where it would be safe from anybody trying to snoop around and look for it," he mused. His mind went to the puzzle box he'd hidden the Chain in when he'd gone back home for the holidays. If he put that under his travel bags in the top of his dorm room closet, no one would even think to look up in what should be a bunch of empty cases for a massive gemstone!
"What about the Chain?" Evalia asked. "It is imperative that you keep such a powerful artefact within reach, not where the Captor can get to it without your knowledge. Him laving the Gyth is one thing, but he must never come in contact with the Chain."
Lewis nodded as he gathered his empty dishes and headed toward the nearest trash can. "It's safe enough in my backpack. That thing has so many little pockets I don't even use that it would be hard for someone else to locate something that small unless they knew the right compartment to look in. Plus, I basically carry my backpack wherever I--yipe!"
Lewis had just turned around from throwing away his trash in the middle of speaking to find Adolf standing just behind him.
"Who are you talking to?" The swarthy henchman snarled.
Lewis recalled what Gathlen had said about him being in charge of the Underworlders--and just seeing the man's face reminded him of the awful sensation of being charged by the werewolf.
"N-nobody!" Lewis stammered. "I was just eating some dinner after I finished my shift. I'm leaving now!" Why did he feel obligated to answer to this creepy, brawny henchman, anyway?
Adolf sneered at him. and Lewis could hear the weird sniffling sound his breath made as Adolf said, "Do you smell something?"
The question caught Lewis so off-guard that he didn't quite know what to say. Did the fact that they were both from Phantasm mean that the werewolf could detect the scent of fairies? "W-well, the only thing I'm smelling right now is the trash can beside us." In the dark at the edge of the carnival, Lewis could se the bus arrive to take passengers back toward Browning Academy and the nearby city. "I've gotta go," he finished, and before Adolf could try anything else or detain him any longer, Lewis dashed straight to the staff lockers, picked up his backpack and caught the bus. Only then did he dare to let out a sigh of relief.
"That was a close one!" he muttered aloud. At least Adolf hadn't caught him actively sitting and chatting with the fairies. Lewis had no idea how he would have talked his way out of that situation!
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