The Seam Sorceress

Rare Specimens, part 2.

The girl on the flyer looked a lot like Tilly but it wasn't her. From the drawing's scalp came painted hair that fell in silver ribbons that coiled and turned to frame the edges of the advertisement. Her face was almost featureless—little more than a flick or two of the artist's pen to give a hint of eyelashes and lips set in a mysterious smile—to not draw attention away from her wings, sketched lovingly in mottled shades of pink and lavender.

'ᴄᴏᴍᴇ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇʀʀɪꜰʏɪɴɢ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ ꜰᴇʏ,' the flyer read in hard, crisp letters that reminded Tilly of bones. 'ʀᴀʀᴇ, ʀᴇᴀʟ, sᴀᴠᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ!'

"He's had dozens of them made." Loose powder fell like snow from Lavender's brush as she tapped it against a small tin. "The whole fair is wallpapered with them."

"But—" The flyer drifted to Tilly's lap. "—But I don't even got wings."

Lavender set the young girl's face. "You will after tonight."

"I will?" Creases appeared in the paper as Tilly gripped it tighter. "What's happening tonight?"

"Did you see those men on the way in? Fooling with lighting, setting up chairs just outside the trailer?" Lavender ashed her cigarette and reached for an eyeliner pencil. "They're getting ready for your first show."

"I thought I was just gonna meet the fair's owner."

"Oh, you will." The eyeliner pencil came to a needle-sharp point. "You'll meet him and the other forty five people who paid for the show. The owner doesn't like to invest in talent until he can be sure they'll bring in money. Now hold still."

Dust motes floated lazily through a column of sunlight provided by one of the trailer's rare windows. In the brief silence, the sounds of the carnival began to leak inside. Somewhere, people were clapping.

"No." Tilly shook her head as she tore the flyer in half, then to pieces. "I ain't gonna sit still, and there ain't gonna be a show tonight. Or a show tomorrow. Or a show ever. I'm leaving."

"Then you'd best hurry." Lavender capped the eyeliner. Her long, painted nails grazed Tilly's cheek like the talons of some particularly benevolent beast. "Not many come home after joining the Fair."

"C'mon, Booger." The tattered remains of the flyer fluttered to the floor as Tilly stood. She parted the beaded curtain. "Do you miss it sometimes? Home?"

Lavender's face was unreadable. "More than you could know."

"Then why don't you leave? You can come with us. Not like they got you locked up in a cage."

"I wish I could." Lavender smiled. Her gaze moved to the overhead lights. She blinked hard and fast. "But sometimes the cage isn't one you can see."

Tilly frowned. "'Fraid I don't understand, ma'am."

"And I hope you never do," Lavender answered. "Hurry along, princess. I bet they miss you at home."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am, for the warning." Tilly stood at the door. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I promise I will be. And when I do, I'll figure out what I have to do to open that cage of yours. I bet they miss you at home, too. You have a good evening."

"You too." Lavender nodded. "You too."

They were about to go when the brass knob beneath Tilly's hand turned from the outside. The door whipped open. Bright light flooded the room. A dozen hands reached for her. Barking wildly, Booger charged the door, hackles up and teeth bared. Someone planted a boot to her sternum. The dog hit the wall with a whine.