“I packed a sanitation kit in my storage cart,” Kayn said.
Ivory followed her begrudgingly as they walked along the train tracks loaded with over three dozen cars. All were coloured in faded, black paint. Those which performers and crew members slept in were decorated with individual symbols and graffiti courtesy of the person that the space belonged to.
The cart that typically housed Kayn’s supplies was comparatively empty, though it still was protected by innumerable runes and enchantments. Not for keeping out strangers or basic thieves, but her own colleagues.
After unlocking enough to see herself through the door inside, she lit a lantern hanging on the wall before rifling through what remained of her equipment following the fire. An act more painful than watching the fire itself.
“Here, I’ll help you look,” Ivory said, hoisting himself up the small ladder and towards the door.
Kayn stopped herself from denying his assistance. All of the evidence of her murders had been destroyed, after all.
Once inside, the ghost courter fixed his spectacles and summoned a light from his wand.
“What should I be looking for?” he asked.
“A rather large duffel bag. There’s enough gauze and alcohol in there for a small army.”
“What’s this?” Ivory picked up a button down shirt that was missing the thin layer of dust on everything else. Most of the crates hadn’t been relieved of their home since several stops before London. “Something to tell me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Why would I … here of all places?” she snatched the shirt from him and sniffed it. “I haven’t any idea how this got here. Where did you find it?”
“Just over there. Right next to … this,” Ivory said, holding up a doll.
Kayn took it, tossing it back to Ivory after a mere glance. Then she lifted a finger to her pursed lips and nodded towards the corner were a convenient wall of crates sheltered a hollow space. She grunted as she hauled a stack of them aside. She was done before Ivory could muster the politeness to give his assistance.
Once she had removed the majority of the improvised wall, Kayn was met by the wild gaze of a half-asleep boy just coming to, who issued a cry of surprise to match her own. One half of his hair was standing upright from where he’d been sleeping on it.
He shot to his feet, knocking over one of Kayn’s suitcases in the process. “Let me explain!” the boy blurted. Though he wasn’t quite a boy. The dark haired adolescent was at the beginning of adulthood. His firm build spoke of an acrobat’s training, and despite the compromising situation, he was calmer than most his age would be. A makeshift bed made of shrouds that typically covered cadavers lay in a heap beneath him.
“Explain away! What is this treacherous piece of witchcraft?” Ivory spat, shoving the doll in the boy’s face.
“It’s my sister’s,” the boy whispered. “It’s not … witchcraft. She gave it to me before I left.”
“ ‘Running away to join the circus,’ ” Ivory scoffed. “Surely you’re joking?”
The boy shook his head.
“Who are you?” Kayn asked, her tone far gentler.
“My name is Atherton Graves … and I know everything about this place.”
Kayn knew her enchantments better than a Catholic school boy knows his bible verses. She was just impressed that somebody had hitched into this train car at all. “How did you get in here?”
“The night of the fire, when everyone was packing. Chaos. Panic. There was … an opportunity.”
“So you don’t practice magic?”
“Not of the sort you’re familiar with,” Ather braved. “At least … I don’t know anymore.”
“Don’t know anymore? How could you not …” Ivory’s words hung in the air.
Kayn shook her head at him and continued her line of questions.
After the surprise of the meeting settled in his chest, the ghost courter stepped back to look over Atherton with his eyes. The eyes that could see the innumerable souls in an old forest. The eyes that plucked out phantom candidates at graveyards as easy as apples in an autumn orchard. He found himself walking backwards and reaching for his wand, seeing what was lurking behind the boy whose eyes didn’t betray the nightmarish amalgamation behind him.
It was something so foul, it was impossible that he wasn’t aware it had gripped him. It was worse than a demon. Worse than Boo’s hat, for it had once been human but had long since transformed into something else.
Ivory gulped, “Do what he says,” he whispered, not caring that he was splitting into their introduction.
“What?” Kayn asked. “Are you all right? I think you lost more blood than you think. Hey, I need help figuring out what to do with this kid.”
“Just … do whatever he wants. Oblige him. If we don’t, it will … just, just let him stay for now,” the ghost courter said, wiping at his forehead before fleeing the cart.
