Circus: Fantasy Under the Big Top Read Online Free PDF Page A

fang-sharp in the red light.
    The platform was empty and Jacob and Salem waited in the shadows. She could barely make out the words White Bear on the cracked and mildewed sign.
    “They built this town for the train,” she whispered, her face close enough to Jacob’s to feel his breath. “But the Texas and Pacific never came, and the town dried up and blew away.”
    “This is a hard country. Even gods go begging here.”
    Footsteps echoed through the silent station; a moment later Salem heard a child’s sniffling tears. Then the Conductor came into view.
    A tall man, dressed like his name, black hat pulled low over his face. Even across the platform Salem felt the angry heat of him, smelled ash and coal. A sack was slung over one broad shoulder, and his other hand prisoned Memory’s tiny wrist.
    Salem swallowed, her throat gone dry, and undid the clasp around her neck. The chain slithered cold into her hand. Jacob’s hand tightened on her shoulder once, then he stepped into the moonlight.
    “Trading in dead children now?” His growl carried through the still air. “You called yourself a warrior once.”
    The Conductor whirled, swinging Memory around like a doll. His face was dark in the shadow of his hat, but his eyes gleamed red.
    Jacob took a step closer, bootheels thumping on warped boards. “You fought gods once, and heroes. Now you steal the unworthy dead.” He cocked his head. “And didn’t you used to be taller?”
    “You!” The Conductor’s voice was a dry-bone rasp; Salem shuddered at the sound. “You died! I saw you fall. The wolf ripped you open.”
    Jacob laughed. “It’s harder than that to kill me.”
    “We’ll see about that.” He released Memory and dropped the bag as he lunged for Jacob.
    Memory crawled away, cradling her wrist to her chest. The chain rattled in Salem’s hand as she moved; Jacob and the Conductor grappled near the edge of the platform and she had no clear shot.
    Then Jacob fell, sprawling hard on the floor. The Conductor laughed as he stood over him. “I’ll take you and the witch as well as the dead. The things below will be more than pleased.”
    Salem darted in, the chain lashing like a whip. It coiled around his throat and he gasped. His heat engulfed her, but she hung on.
    “You can’t trap me in a bottle, little witch.” His eyes burned red as embers. Char-black skin cracked as he moved, flashing molten gold beneath. A glass bead shattered against his skin; another melted and ran like a tear.
    She pulled the chain tighter—it wouldn’t hold much longer. The Conductor caught her arm in one huge black hand and she screamed as her flesh seared.
    “Didn’t the old man tell you, woman? His companions always die. Crows will eat your eyes—if I don’t boil them first.”
    A fury of white feathers struck him, knocking off his hat as talons raked his face. The Conductor cursed, batting the bird aside, and Salem drove a boot into his knee.
    He staggered on the edge for one dizzying instant, then fell, taking Salem with him. Breath rushed out of her as they landed, his molten heat burning through her clothes. Her vision blurred and White Bear Valley spun around in a chiaroscuro swirl.
    “Jerusalem!” She glanced up, still clinging to the chain. Jacob leapt off the platform, landing lightly in a puff of dust. “Hold your breath!”
    She realized what was coming as he stuck his fingers into the ground and pulled the world open.
    White Bear Lake crashed in to fill the void.
    “Wake up, witch. You’re no use to me drowned.”
    She came to with a shudder, Jacob’s mouth pressed over hers, his breath inside her. She gasped, choked, rolled over in time to vomit up a bellyful of bitter lake water. Her vision swam red and black, and she collapsed onto weed-choked mud. Cold saturated her, icy needles tingling through her fingers.
    “Did he drown?” she asked, voice cracking.
    “His kind don’t like to swim.” He turned her over, propping her head on his soaking