The Baron stopped Lucy the moment she stormed from the tent.
"Miss!" She heard him shout as she wove through the throes of people before her, her anger bubbling dreadfully in her throat, her cheeks still burning. "Miss Caramonte!"
Finally, she could bear it no longer and turning around she crossed her arms in front of her chest and presented the poor man with a stormy expression. "How did you find me?" she demanded, perhaps far harsher than she ought to have done.
"I well, I um, I was looking for you, then I saw Oz leading you away and I followed--"
Lucy held up a hand to stop him. "Enough. We can speak of the little things at some other time. Currently, we need to figure out some manner of getting you out of the carnival."
"Of course."
A pause stretched between them as they walked through the crowds, an awkwardness prickling between them the longer it drew on. A rather obvious question hanging unspoken in the air.
Finally, however, Lucy could bear it no longer, and with her sense of dread and guilt returning she searched for an answer she dreaded to hear. "How much do you remember?" she asked. "About your death, I mean."
The Baron hesitated. "I... I remember walking with you. Then falling and, um, then all of a sudden I was very cold and I--"
His words were cut off then and when Lucy glanced at him she found that he gazed listlessly at the ground, a look of empty sadness crossing his features. As though he knew that he had lost something he could never recover.
Not unless Lucy were to help him.
A spark of determination coursed through her then-- a resonance within her that said that she would make everything right once more. And with that she began to pull him the way they had come. Back towards the silver gates.
Yet as they approached, the minotaur that stood before the carnival entrance took a step forward, partially barring their path.
"Only the living may leave, Miss." the creature rumbled.
Behind him, the gates creaked in the autumn breeze, their silver sheen now seeming to have darkened at the stormy tone of the gatekeeper. The gilded details of twisted metal sharpening as though they were something alive that pulsed and warped themselves into thorns.
Nevertheless, Lucy had come too far to back away now, and with her heart thrashing in her chest she plunged onward, even as the gates darkened to a tarnished black and the thorns grew wicked, gleaming in the moonlight.
She began to pull the Baron through, her steps halting as he stopped suddenly, a cry of pain escaping his lips, his entire weight pulling her backwards just as the gates slammed closed with a shuddering force. The air between them snapping violently where her body had been moments before.
"What's gotten into you?" she demanded, her breath ceasing in her throat as she turned around to face him, shaken as the clash of metal upon metal rang in her ears.
"It...burns." the Baron said, wrenching his hand away from her own, the flesh upon his fingers now a deathly pallor, drawn tight around the bones. The hand of one who has truly died. "I, um, don't think I can leave, Miss."
By now Lucy had grown desperate, the sights of the carnival around having lost their fairytale magic of childhood, a frightening aura settling upon it in its stead. The tents were dark shadows that loomed before them, the figures both living and dead sinister in nature, masked faces grotesque as eyes peered from her in the darkness.
A cold sweat beaded over her skin, chilled in the midnight air. Her breathing labored as she tried to think of any way to bring the Baron back without being drawn into the carnival master's dreadful game.
"Are you certain you can't just..." her hands waved in the empty air, at a loss. "...Endure it?"
The Baron looked once more from his hand to the gate beyond. "I-- I'm not certain, that is to say, I don't think I can, Miss. I think the carnival keeps me alive-- or, dead? But in an alive way? I'm not simply a body here; I can move and speak, for the most part."
"And if you leave..."
"I'll be dead in a very dead way."
Gritting her teeth in frustration and with her chest tight with the urge to scream, Lucy began to pace before the gates. Her head spinning with the words of warning for the dangers she would face should she attempt to play the carnival master's game.
She felt a gentle touch upon her shoulder then, and upon looking up she found herself gazing into the eyes of the Baron, his expression tender though she was but a stranger to him. "What you do next is entirely up to you, Miss. You... You could leave me here, you know. I'll be alright."
These last words were spoken softly. A reassurance to himself as much as her, and though he put forth a brave front she could see the fear within his eyes. A knowledge that he would have to accept that his life was truly over.
Yet Lucy adamantly shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. We need only to find a few keys to set you free. I doubt that shall be very dreadful at all..." With that, she turned round once more and began to march back towards the tent of the carnival master; coming across Oz who stopped her before she could enter.
"Tell him that I've accepted his challenge." she told the Cat, unfazed by his disapproving look that she had bothered to return. "Let the carnival master know that I'm going to play his game."
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A/N; Hey everyone, thanks so much for reading! Hope you like this chapter and don't forget to give it a vote.
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The Mortal And The Wicked-- ONC 2023
FantasyONC 2023 Shortlister His features had haunted her for years; a boy with silver eyes peering out from beneath a mask of bone. His body cloaked in darkness, a wicked grin upon his lips that spoke of treachery-- a smile that had broken countless hearts...
