Ned’s Circus of Marvels

Kitty

When he eventually crossed over from deep slumber to the first glimmers of being awake, Ned was smiling. There was a gentle hand patting him on the head. Dad hadn’t woken him like that for years. It didn’t matter, he’d either dreamt the whole circus thing up, or his dad had come to get him. Life was going to go back to normal, or at least the Waddlesworth version of normal.

“Hi Dad, I had the weirdest dream …” he said groggily.

There was no answer, which wasn’t the only thing that was strange. Dad’s skin felt rough and clammy. It also smelt horrible.

“Now, Alice, come on girl, we talked about this. You can’t go pestering the boy, he’s trying to sleep.”

Ned opened his eyes abruptly. An elephant, oddly like the one in his dreams and apparently called Alice, had opened a window from the outside, reached in to his room and was stroking him with her trunk. A man, who Ned couldn’t see but assumed was her trainer, was clearly trying desperately to move her away.

“Morning, Mr Waddlewats,” wheezed the man, poking his head round the door, “I’m Norman, sir, Alice’s trainer. So sorry about this, but I think she likes you.”

Ned could see from looking around that he was no longer in George’s container. He seemed to be on the ground floor of a huge, pink, multi-storey bus. Judging by the beds and the equipment he could see, he guessed it must be the circus infirmary – the perfect place to recover from the shock of the last twenty-four hours. At least it would have been without an elephant trying to break in through the window, or the three emperor monkeys he now saw approaching his bedside, finishing off the remains of his breakfast.

“No, no, no, this won’t do at all!” squeaked an elderly lady, as she hobbled in through the infirmary’s entrance. “How many times have I told you to leave the newlings alone. He’s a josser, for goodness’ sake! Julius, Nero, Caligula … out of here this instant!”

The three emperors stuck out their tongues and leapt out of the window, sliding down Alice’s trunk, which disappeared seconds after them.

“Name’s Kitty,” warbled the elderly woman, holding her hand out to Ned for shaking, which he did. Her skin was old-lady soft. Ned guessed she must be in her late eighties at least. She had grey-white hair, but, somewhat strangely, she was carrying a pink plastic schoolbag, which Ned noticed had a Hello Kitty label on it. In fact, she was dressed from head to toe in Hello Kitty merchandise. She wore Hello Kitty shoes, badges, bracelets, and even Hello Kitty hair clips.

“So, here we are, my little gum-drop,” she said, breaking into a beautiful smile.

“I’m Ned, Ned Waddlesw—”

“Yes, I think you probably are. But how are you, dearie? That’s the question.”

Ned had plenty to say on that subject.

“Honestly? Well, let me see … The most safety-conscious dad on the planet has abandoned me to a bunch of –” Ned paused for a second – “a bunch of weirdos, no one will tell me why I’m here, I’ve been chased by homicidal clowns, and last night I walked in on a giant talking gorilla. It talked, you know? Actually talked. And Dad is somewhere—”

“Tea, dear?”

“Oh, err, yes that would be nice, thanks. But—”

“Now. That wasn’t really what I meant, Ned. What I want to know is how you are inside, what it is exactly that you’re made up of. Whether it’s snips, snails or puppy dogs’ tails. Benissimo needs to know about you before he can tell you about us. I’m the circus’s Farseer. It’s my job to see where our new arrivals are heading and where they aren’t.”

Ned had no idea what she was talking about.

“I’m not really sure what you mea— oi!”

The old woman had taken an alarmingly large pair of scissors and cut a strand of hair from the side of his head.

“Jossers always yelp the first time!”

Kitty giggled like a small schoolgirl, before busily tying his hair with a knot of old lace. Job done, she locked the bundle in a tiny safe nearby.

“Wha … why, why did you just do that?”

“Well, to make a spirit-knot, dearie, why else? All the newlings get them. They’re quite dangerous in the wrong hands, but only one can exist at a time. Now I have yours, you’ll be quite safe from any of that sort of mischief.”

It was at this point that Ned realised Kitty was as mad as a box of frogs.

“Why don’t I show you?”

The old lady reopened the safe and reached into a tray of tiny containers, pulling out a bundled curl of elephant hair, tied together with grey ribbon.

“What goes around comes around,” she announced, before chanting something under her breath and stroking the bundle with a small white feather.

Through the bus window, Ned could see Alice the elephant and Norman. As Kitty stroked the knot, Alice’s leg started to twitch, before kicking back gently and knocking her trainer into a barrel of water.

“Don’t worry, dear, he’ll dry out soon enough, and next time he might just stop the old girl from waking up my patients!”

Ned’s mouth was hanging open. Where had his dad sent him?

“Umm, I’m sorry, but I think there’s been a mistake.”

The old woman’s face shifted, to clear, cold focus.

“Mistake? I don’t think so, my little seedling. Those clowns don’t make mistakes, and if they’ve seen you, things from here on in will be different. Your old life may well be over, dear. What we need to find out is where your new one might take you.”

Ned suddenly felt very small.

“I don’t want a new life, I just want to go home. My dad sent me here but I haven’t heard from him and I don’t know if he’s—”

“Safe and long gone, dearie, and don’t worry, you’ll see him again,” cut in Kitty.

Ned lit up. It was the first glimmer of hope that he’d had since leaving his father, though he didn’t understand how she knew. The last time he’d checked, his dad’s phone had been disconnected.

“Are you sure? Did he contact you?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. You’ll be staying with us for a little while, anyway. Now have a sip of that tea and we’ll take a wee look at you, shall we?”

The tea tasted strange but was hot, sugary and soothing. It seemed to flow through his body, warming him right to the ends of his eyes. Somehow it managed to make him feel calm.

What happened next did not. Kitty took his hands into her own and gave them a good long squeeze, checking over the length of his fingers one by one.

“Hmmmm,” she pondered, then smiled wildly. “Do you play the piano?”

Before he could answer, Kitty drew back her arm and slapped him in the face.

“Owww! What was that for?”

“It’s how I do it, my boy. Blindness, you see, has forced me to do my readings by touch and your boney little hands are not giving much away. Sorry, dear, but the only way to get the proper measure of you is through your face.”

“What? You’re blind? So when you cut my hair just now you—”

S L A P !

The next ten minutes were extremely uncomfortable for Ned. Kitty repeatedly slapped, pinched and prodded his cheeks, nose, ears and neck. Never hard enough to actually hurt, but always enough to shock him. The strange thing was, with every slap, pinch and prod came a squeal of joy from the old woman, even at one point an attack of the giggles that made her snort through her nose.

“I think I want to go home now,” Ned scowled as soon as she paused.

“Sorry, dear, I just haven’t had such a fun reading in ages, and your skin is so very soft, isn’t it? Now let me see,” she said, continuing her strange exploration, “interesting, not keen on homework … and not that good with a football either. Face not entirely remarkable, but not by any means plain. Something of a blank canvas on which to paint.”

This was the part Ned was dreading. If Kitty really could read his mind and was hoping to discover anything exciting about him …

“Not really the rising star, are we? Oh yes, I see … a bit cross with dad, but some new friends and a longing to grow roots. Hang on, I sense … Oh dear, a little sadness. We’ll have to see if we can’t fix that …”

Ned was already feeling increasingly uncomfortable when Kitty’s fingers pressed down particularly hard on his forehead.

“Oww!”

“Interesting,” she whispered.

“What? What have you seen?” Ned asked, trying to sound casual but secretly praying that she’d found something about him that was worth remarking on. “And if you prod me like that again, I’m leaving, clowns or not.”

Kitty smiled. “There’s no reason to get all snippy, my little powder-keg. Nearly done, pinky promise,” squeaked Kitty. “Just close those eyes and breathe …”

Suddenly he felt a pressure in the back of his mind. It was the same feeling he’d had outside the big top and again at the end of the show. It was as though someone, or something, were in there with him. “Heyyy, you’ve … bin here … bef … orrrr,” he slurred.

“Yes, dear, I did have a little peek or two. Now pipe down, I’m trying to think.”

In the darkness of his mind, Ned saw a pinprick of light a million miles away from his troubles. It was disorientating and strange, as though he were in the room and somewhere else at the same time.

“Kitteee … moy stomach … feeeeels …”

“A minute more … OK, just as I thought. Open your eyes, that’s enough for today,” said the old woman.

Ned felt strange and very slightly sick, as the room came back into focus.

“What just happened?”

“Yes, Kit-Kat, what did just happen?” came a deeper voice from the bus’s doorway.

Ned looked up. There, framed in the doorway, was the huge figure of the Circus of Marvels’ Ringmaster – Benissimo.

Ned felt a mix of awe and hope. Perhaps he was finally going to get some answers. This was the man his father trusted, the man who would get Ned’s life back in order.

“It’s unclear, Bene. On the one hand, something … on the other, most definitely nothing,” answered Kitty brightly.

“Hell’s teeth, Kit-Kat! What kind of answer is that?”

“It is the only answer you’re getting till you mind your manners and ask the right question,” she retorted, now in the deeper voice of an elderly but formidable woman, all traces of giggly girlishness gone.

“I just did!” snapped the Ringmaster, his bushy moustache twitching irritably.

“Not to me, you fool, to the boy.”

The great tower that was Benissimo changed, his face shifting from irritation, to new-found understanding.

“I see … yes, yes, of course.”

He raised one of his large eyebrows, then lowered it and raised the other, before studying his subject more closely.

“So this is him and here he is. Not much to look at and very young, Kit-Kat, too young,” said the Ringmaster, now drawing uncomfortably close.

Ned’s shoulders tensed again. Benissimo may have seemed saner than the rest of the circus crew but he was also slightly terrifying and he was staring at Ned so closely it was as if he was trying to read the pores of his skin.

“Err, sorry, but too young for what?”

“Too young for us, pup,” said Benissimo, “for the Circus of Marvels and the road we travel. Tell me, did your father explain anything about what we do here and where it is we come from?”

Ned shrugged. “He garbled a lot of stuff, none of it made much sense though …”

Benissimo did not look impressed.

“Just as I thought. Underaged, unprepared and frankly … underwhelming.”

The brutish Ringmaster was intimidating, but he was also rude and Ned had had enough.

“Look, I don’t know who you lot are or what my dad’s mixed up in, all I know is you’re supposed to help me, and right now you’re not being very nice, so what I want to do is … call the police, or something, so if I can use your phone …”

“Help you?” said Benissimo with a snort. “That’s not it at all. You’re here to help us – though I seriously doubt a josser like you will be anything but a hindrance.”

Ned didn’t know what Benissimo meant by “josser” but by now he was somewhere between the salty welling-up of tears and outright anger. His dad had told him to trust Kitty and Benissimo, and one of them was mad – and clearly a, well, witch – and the other was rude, bordering on foul. What was his dad thinking and how could he possibly help anyone when he didn’t actually know what was going on?

“Why don’t you tell him about your little box, dearie?” cut in Kitty’s singsong voice.

Ned suddenly remembered the birthday present and how it had slipped through his fingers the night before.

“How do you know about that? Dad said I should give it to you, but I think I lost it last night …”

“Fear not, lamb chop, George found it when he scooped you up off the floor,” said Kitty, pulling the box from her pocket and handing it to Ned.

He studied the cube and for the first time noticed a tiny O embossed on to one of its sides.

“Yes, this is it. It’s a puzzle box I think. I’m usually pretty good at stuff like this, but I can’t figure out how it opens.”

Benissimo’s eyes grew wide.

“Jupiter’s beard! That’s no puzzle box, boy, that is something else … entirely.”

Lots & Lots of Marvels

“If it’s not a puzzle box, then what is it?” asked Ned.

“My suspicions will need a pinch or two of verification, but if I’m right, this may well be the second half –” the Ringmaster paused, eyeing Ned up and down – “of a very slim chance.”

“Chance of what?”

“Of keeping the world’s biggest secret a secret, boy. And of keeping your father alive. Come with me, there are some things you need to see.”

Ned’s chest tightened. “Keeping your father alive” were not words he wanted to hear. Was his dad really in that much trouble?

The Ringmaster stepped off the bus and beckoned Ned to follow. Outside, Ned realised they were nowhere near Grittlesby green. The sun was rising and he could see now that the circus had pitched its tents by the side of a motorway. In front of them was the abandoned building site of a half-constructed shopping mall. A single large sign across its fencing read ‘OUBLIER AND CO’. Beyond that, thick untameable forest.

“Where are we?”

“Across the Channel, southern France.”

“France! How did we get here so quickly? Did you get the entire circus on the ferry while I was asleep?” gasped Ned.

“Our presence was required to take care of a local disturbance. It’s what we do, my troupe and I.”

“Disturbance? I thought you like … juggled and stuff?”

“Juggled and stuff?” Benissimo sighed. “This is going to take longer than I thought … I’ll start at the beginning, shall I? You see, the circus, as you and the rest of the world know it, is a place of harmless fun, but its roots are of a more secretive nature. When the old Roman Empire used to rule, they would scour the world for its best fighters and train them in mortal combat. Back then we fought as gladiators, for money, and for fame. It was barbaric, they were barbaric times, but it was done for a reason – to ready us to manage certain borders, to keep what was in in. We’re descendants, Ned, of those very same circuses, those very same warriors, the gatekeepers of a border or borders that we collectively call ‘the Veil’, behind which certain things hide or are kept hidden.”

“I still don’t understand. What hides? And what’s it got to do with me and my dad?” Ned asked.

“What you need, young pup, is a little orientation, a little bit of knowing your up from your down,” said Benissimo. “Come with me.”

The Ringmaster turned abruptly and marched Ned over to the circus’s empty animal cages, then stopped by its smallest.

“Do you believe in fairies, boy?” he asked, without a hint of sarcasm.

“Course not, I’m thirteen.”

“That is a shame … but you did? When you were younger, yes?”

“Maybe.”

“And at that time, you were probably a little scared of the dark too? Saw things in it when nothing was there?”

Of all the people Ned had met, Benissimo was the very last he’d want to admit that to.

“I … erm …”

“Seeing things in the dark,” continued Benissimo, “we call that ‘sight’. The gift of it leaves us when we come of age. The less we believe, the less we see. The Veil takes away that sight completely. Do me a favour, pup, and look into that cage.”

Ned did not like being referred to as “pup” and he certainly wasn’t Benissimo’s “boy”, that privilege was his dad’s alone, though he was starting to wonder if he’d ever forgive his father for leaving him in the Ringmaster’s care. Nonetheless, the man had a way of asking that made you feel like you had to say yes. He stared through the bars.

“What do you see?”

“Just the cage, that and a little sunlight, I guess.”

“Dusk and dawn are the best times to see them, especially the Darklings that we have caged here. Your youth and Kitty’s tea should be enough to break the glamour. Look again.”

This time, as Ned stared through the bars, something began to form. In the dance of shadow and light, he saw a shape. Something small and sinewy, something with teeth.

“Wha … what?”

Before him stood a ferocious creature, which snarled and lashed at the cage bars. Its clothing might once have had some colour, but today the creature’s threadbare rags were reduced to a grimy mush. It had white clammy skin, orange slits for eyes and a pointy, evil face.

“That, my boy, is a hob-gor-balin, only a level three menace, but quite clearly on the wrong side of the Veil. The effects of Kitty’s tea at your age should be permanent, though breaking the strongest glamours needs more aggressive magic …”

Ned’s jaw dropped.

“Ned Waddlesworth, son of Terry. Feast your eyes on the truth. Drink it down like a warm cup of honey. This …” said Benissimo as he led him round the corner to where a large troupe of performers were having their lunch, “… is my circus, the real Circus of Marvels,” announced Benissimo, gesturing in a circle, his chest puffed up with pride.

Ned looked over the troupe and his already dropped jaw gaped wider still. The cook was an unshaven, gruff-looking man who had clearly never washed his apron. He also had tusks hanging down from his mouth, and the snout of a pig. Pretty dancing girls in sparkly make-up laughed, as a red-faced cheery-looking woman sewed sequins and bells on to a pink dress. One of the girls had scales for skin, another short fur and the spots of a leopard, and the third was covered in tiny blue feathers.

Beside them, an excited group was laying down wagers, as Rocky and what Ned could only assume was his wife, despite the beard, went head to head in a playful arm-wrestle. Except that Rocky wasn’t Rocky any more. His bulging muscular skin had turned a hard grey and had the texture of rock. Watching the two lovebirds wrestle were Julius, Nero and Caligula, but the breakfast-stealing monkeys were now in their blue-skinned, mischievous pixie form, and the elephant that had ruffled his hair only moments ago had the pretty white wings at the top of her back Ned had seen in his dreams, where there had previously only been cardboard.

Each and every one was different, from the enormous troll that was Rocky, to the dwarven unicyclists delivering food at the food truck’s trestle tables.

“The hidden. Marvellous, aren’t they? Every myth and legend, every obscure or forgotten tale, they are all, most wonderfully, most stupendously and on numerous occasions, rather dangerously … true.”

Ned turned around to take in the other Darklings in their cages. They weren’t like George or Rocky or even the clowns. They were monsters, of every possible size and shape.

“That there is a harpy,” said Benissimo indicating a brown-winged woman sat scowling in one of the cages, her mouth covered to stop her taunting screams. “Her voice can cause instant paralysis, or madness, or both. Very nasty indeed,” explained Benissimo. Behind her, in a far larger cage, were a pair of thin-limbed creatures wearing clothes that looked like they’d been stolen from the dead.

“Nightmongers; the less said about them the better. Look into their eyes and you see your worst fears. Hear them talk and it’s already over.”

Their faces were covered by wide-brimmed hats, and instead of fingers Ned saw long claws the length of kitchen knives hanging from their wrists.

“Please, please tell me I’ve gone mad,” said Ned, suddenly longing for his dull, safe dad more than ever.

“It’s always hard on jossers the first time,” said Benissimo dismissively. “That wyvern took ten hands to capture, most of which wound up in the infirmary.”

The beast he was talking about was in the largest cage by far. It was about the size of a horse with the features of a dragon. Its leathery wings had to be chained down and it wore a heavy iron muzzle.

“Flammable spit. I’ve seen them burn bones to ashes in mere seconds.”

As still as it was, the briefest look from its glowering grey eyes was enough to chill Ned’s bones. The Darklings were nightmares come to life, only worse, only real. Ned didn’t care whether he was going mad or not. He was quite beyond that now.

BANG.