The Ringmaster's Revenge

Phase One

44 Hours until the Ringmaster’s Revenge

Grifter

The moon swam low and large against the blue-black sky playing master over its celestial brethren.  It outshone the stars and bleached the once vibrant countryside so newly green after a hard winter.  Even the freshly budding trees were sobered by the silver licked night in which the heart of the living land seemed to cease beating.  However any discomfort of the senses experienced by most creatures unfortunate enough to be awake at such an early hour, under such surreal circumstances, went completely unrealized by two dark travelers standing on a stout incline overlooking the moors watching with a couple kissing there.

Embarrassed by this trifling act of voyeurism, the smallest observer, a boy who would have laughed at such a touching scene upon other circumstances, turned towards his companion.

“That’s her.  I know it is.  But I don’t know who that man could be.  Aviraz?”

 Because it was the hub of night, the shadow-man’s features were blacker than char against the lunar glow, yet the boy didn’t need to see his face to know the expression there was grim.  Hollow even.  Like the hours, it was predictably fixed.  Only the whites of his eyes showed briefly as they regarded each other.  Then there came the hesitant whisper of a cool finger across his forehead brushing aside the inky curl dangling between his eyebrows and, with it, a feeling not unlike regret.  It filled the space between them as if it was solid and confounded Grifter, for though the two of them had been closely bonded over the last few months their escapades had rarely been enjoyable.

The man’s silhouette began to grow fuzzy as his legs merged with the shadows cast by the springy weeds beneath them.   His hand lingered only a moment more, cupping the boy’s chin, before it receded into the empty air.

“Wait,” said Grift.  “Don’t you want to meet them?  We’ve come all this way and you’re leaving now?”

For a moment he thought Aviraz would ignore him and disappear, but then the shade’s torso hardened.  Strong once more, he took Grift’s hand.  From his fingers a heavy silver pendant swung.  Quickly he placed it in the boy’s palm, saying, “My debt is paid.  I have brought you to her, as I said I would, and have no further obligation to you.”

Detecting a raw note in the shadow-man’s voice, he shook his head and began to whimper.  “But I don’t understand.  Don’t leave now,” he said.

Aviraz closed the boy’s hand around the necklace.  “I will not be bound to this any longer.  Take it.  Keep it safe.  Speak of me to no one.  Especially her.”

Then with that mysterious command the shade was gone.

Grift swallowed the lump of bitterness working its way up his throat and gave the pendant a squeeze hard enough to leave a sun-and-moon imprinted on his flesh.  When eventually his hand began to ache, he started off towards the moor where his past and future unwittingly sat snuggled in the cattails.