Chapter 29

Moving

Everyone in the camp was gathered at the big top. The massive tent, big enough to swallow one of the smaller villages, easily held the staff and performers. They still shuffled and milled around, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Clearly, something big was about to happen, but the general drone of rain, loud enough to be heard over the chatting throng, made hearing details all but impossible.

"He's going to try and speak with this mess?" Taryn muttered to her, staring at everyone as they moved out of the entrance towards one of the ring walls.

"I guess so." Sylvie shrugged. She could see her point, it was far too loud to be heard, except with a bull horn, always possible with Nightshade.

Taryn squinted into the far section of the tent. "Well, there's Halls. Nightshade should be coming soon then." There was an undercurrent of anger to her voice. She had had to work till sundown in the rain one night because she wasn't whooping and capering loud enough to suit Halls. She had been confined to quarters the next few days with a massive cold and denied access to Sylvie for fear of the cold spreading. It was a major sore point for her. Sylvie just sighed and shook her head. Her own treatment at the hand of Halls was little better, and she grudgingly admitted that the constant effort and training had made going out on stage much easier, but she was getting tired of being treated like it was boot camp, especially one that she had never wanted to be in in the first place.

A hush fell over the crowd as Nightshade himself came strutting down the aisle, heading for the center of the rink. He had chosen his usual black ringmaster coat and hat, plus dark pants again. What a surprise. Sylvie shook her head. As far as she knew, Nightshade had several outfits, and she should know, Taryn had told her of how many had gone through the camp's wash. But all of them seemed to be the darkest shades of blue or midnight black. How could anyone wear that much black was beyond her. Still, she had to admit, he could definitely wear it well. He could frighten anyone with that suit on, or be warm and charming with it. If death was a ringmaster, he would be Nightshade, Sylvie decided. The thought gave her a shiver.

Right now, he was waving grandly at the assembled people. "Greetings everyone!" Sylvie winced. His voice blared from the loudspeakers placed throughout the bigtop, and by some sort of bad luck, Taryn had set them up right next to one.

"I have some very good news!" Nightshade seemed to swell with the weight of it, making everyone lean in. Sylvie held her breath, surely she couldn't be that lucky?― "We are going to be hitting the road day after tomorrow. While we will continue to bleed these people dry, we will be heading for Rio." A predatory grin took his face, and a series of low chuckles swept the arena. Sylvie shuddered slightly. She began to fear for the safety of the people in Rio when this band of cutthroats made its way over.

"Nightshade, baby, do you mean it?" Sylvie focused on the owner of the sultry voice. Ginger was a despicable creature, proprietor of Nightshade's harem girls, and she guarded her fiefdom jealously. Several times Sylvie had seen her angry and petulant when she couldn't get sweet nuts for her and her girls.

Nightshade bowed in her direction. "Of course." He said smoothly. "Why would you think I would lie?" His gaze held hers for a moment, before Trish licked her lips and sat back down. No one dared breath.

Satisfied that the challenge to his honor had been settled, Nightshade resumed staring back over the crowd, a slight smile on his face. The smile only broadened when it fell on her and Taryn. Taryn shrank back slightly under that smile, and Sylvie had to clench to keep from doing the same. She would not back down from him! He gave her the tiniest bow, a mere tilt of the head before continuing. Sylvie thought she might have slumped when that smiling face had turned away, but she wasn't sure. She tried to stop trembling.

"We will make our way to Rio." Nightshade continued, "And there we will put on our greatest shows. Already, the city is fat. We will stay until the Great Party, milking those fools of all they possess. And then we will take our earnings and we will cross the Atlantic. There, in South Africa will we make more money than ever before. Our lovely lasses," His eyes flicked back to Taryn and Sylvie, "will ensure that they come back for more. Then we will move on, until we make it into Europe. We will dine in the great beer halls of Germany, put on our show near the Eiffel Tower, and paddle through the great canals of Venice." His voice fell silent, awed by the magnificence of it all. The camp hung spellbound on his words. Sylvie saw herself being poled in one of those funny little canoes they had over there, a gondola, she thought they were called. All the far away places she had wanted to go when she was a kid, and now, she might actually get a chance to see them!

Wait a minute, came a small voice in the back of her mind, what about the escape attempt? What happened to the plan? The voice pulled Sylvie out of her stupor for a moment. Would Taryn truly be happy gallivanting around the world? The voice continued. What about her mom? She must be dying of heartbreak, wondering if she'll ever see her daughter again. The thought made Sylvie shift uneasily for a moment. She knew her mom would be taking care of Mary for Taryn, but what about her will to live? How much of a difference would it make if Taryn was back there with her? Sylvie caught a glimpse, a glimmer of a memory.

Taryn was running around the yard, a broad smile on her face. Mary clung precariously on her back, a broader smile on hers. A glow seemed to surround them as they moved in the chill winter air. Laughter filled the air as they thundered around for another lap, Sylvie watching from the side with a big smile on her face

With a gasp, Sylvie pulled herself back to reality. With a shiver, she looked back around at everyone, glad to see them still captured by Nightshade's words. She looked at Taryn, surprised to see tears sliding down her face.

"My mom and I always wanted to see the world." She whispered to Sylvie, unseeing as she stared at nightshade. "With her sickness, it never seemed more than dreams. All I had ever wanted was to travel around and see the sights, now all I want to do is go home and see Mom again."

She fell silent, tears trickling, and Sylvie turned away, uncomfortable. She hated not knowing what to do, how to comfort her friend. But there was nothing that she could do. At least, not yet.

Sylvie returned her attention to the crowd, trying to gauge their reactions. Most of the faces seemed excited at the prospect of larger crowds and more money. Others had a slightly harder edge. Those would be the ones that would make contact with the seedier side of the cities they would visit, Sylvie supposed.

Sylvie froze; the cities they would visit?! A cold worm of fear trickled through her human belly. Was her resolve weakening? Their plans did not take them past Rio. Once their figures were on international television, they were sure to be rescued. Weren't they?

Of course they were, she told herself firmly. Grasping her arms tightly around her, she glowered around at the stage. She would certainly not be beaten by this…prig! Content that her righteous anger had been properly rekindled, she turned around with an angry swish of her tail. Walking back into the tropical downpour, she began the miserable journey back to their trailer, nursing her anger. It would be the key, she knew, to resisting Nightshade's anger. It would be buried deep in her like a coal, ready to burst into flame when she needed it to banish any weakling thoughts of surrender.

Taryn puffed up beside her, looking at her with wide eyes. "Slowdown, will you?" she huffed slightly. "You've walked past the trailer!" Startled, Sylvie turned around. Sure enough, the trailer was behind her by forty paces or more. She sheepishly began walking back to the trailer. "I, uh, meant to do that." She muttered unconvincingly.

"Uh, huh." Taryn said dryly. Too dryly. Sylvie shot her a hard look, which Taryn returned blandly. Sniffing slightly, Sylvie broke into a trot and almost darted up the trailer ramp. Once Taryn had made it inside, she closed the door, muting the rain to a steady staccato on the roof that nearly drowned out attempts at speech. Silently, they quickly peeled off their wet clothing and hung them out to dry over the tiny sink and over the shower basin. Shivering slightly from the damp, Sylvie towled off quickly and tossed another to Taryn. Grabbing a dry shirt off the top of her drawer, she mused on how strange it was. Before, neither girl would be caught dead without the appropriate clothes. Now, casual nudity was comfortable to them, in private of course.

She remarked on it to Taryn, who gave her a small shrug. "I'm not sure." She said, chewing her lower lip slightly in the way she did when faced with a particularly thorny problem. "It could be a continuation of the Change; after all, horses don't wear clothes, and we are at least part horse." She glanced back at her own equestrian part in question. "They also don't like restrictions of any kind, and some of the clothing we've got is kind of…form fitting." She continued glumly. "That could explain why we are more comfortable without the clothing when we want to relax."

"Okay." Sylvie giggled nervously. "But I don't want it to get to the point that I forget to put on clothes before I walk out of the trailer!"

Taryn gaped at her a moment before breaking into laughter. "That would be a sight. Could you imagine what miss Halls would think?"

Sylvie thought about it for a minute and broke into gales of laughter. "Or Alan, the handler. Can you imagine what would happen to that prude if we did that?" Taryn practically howled with laughter at the thought of the pinched old man that was one of the jack-of-all trades of the show having apoplexy at seeing them wandering around au naturel.

When the laughter had died down, Sylvie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Whew," she hiccupped. "I needed that." Taryn simply nodded, trying to control the last couple of giggles that threatened to escape.

It was time to bring her down to earth and make sure she knew the plan. Indeed, the grin fell off her face like it was yanked off. She glanced around the trailer, as if to look for microphones, although they had searched a dozen times already.

Moving closely, she spoke in a murmur just loud enough to be heard over the thundering rain. "I don't think it will change much. After all, it is what we want him to do."

Sylvie nodded, almost as much to herself as to Taryn. "Yes, it is what we want him to do," she said barely louder than Taryn, "But it's way too sudden. That…man…has something up his sleeve. I just wish I knew what it was before he throws it at us."

Taryn shrugged. "I think that he is counting on our greed to remain in the show, and the acceptance." Sylvie nodded slightly. While she was sure that the show's performers had gotten a solid talking too about making her feel welcome, she was surprised to realize how fast these people had adjusted to her appearance. None of them even commented on it now. And even while they were still being given the cold shoulder as they were being judged, neither of them had seen the others go out of their way to make them miserable. It was strange, she thought. At home, if they had been revealed, there would have been mass panic and insults, and who knows what else. Here though, where they had been kidnapped to, and their friends gunned down for, had actually tried to make them feel welcome. How very strange.

"Well," she said briskly, shoving her thoughts firmly to the side, "We'll just need to be on our guard when we get to Rio. I have an idea or two about that. Listen…" Taryn listened intently as Sylvie spoke, only interjecting here or there when she thought it was needed. The girls stayed up till almost midnight, making sure they were ready to meet any surprises that Nightshade could possibly come up with.