The Circus Infinitus - The Spindle Cat Read online

  “Good morning, Alfred,” said Oswald.

  “Oswald,” gasped Alfred.

  “Are you surprised to see me? News of my freedom from Lockwood Asylum hasn’t reached you yet then.” Oswald gave a crooked smile. “How’s everyone, by the way? I hope they’re all well.”

  Alfred took a few steps back but a shadow passed over him. He looked up to see a giant scowling at him. The giant reached out a hand for him, and without hesitation, Alfred swung with his knife. The blade cut into the giant’s palm. A deafening scream erupted from the giant’s lips. The air and the earth seemed to shake, and the scream seemed to go on forever. But underneath that scream, Alfred heard another sound: a cat’s meow. Alfred looked more closely and saw the cat regarding him from the giant’s shoulder and he recognised it immediately.

  “Oswald! You apostate.”

  “Say what you will. Necronis has no hold on me anymore. And he will lose his hold on you too, Alfred.”

  “My devotion is strong. I am his favoured. You won’t turn me from my faith,” said Alfred.

  “You only got there because you of what you did to me. Besides, turning you is not my intention,” said Oswald. He signalled Fanfer with a nod and the giant reached down with his cut hand. Alfred began to run. The huge palm enveloped Alfred’s head. Alfred continued to slash with the knife as he was lifted off the ground kicking and screaming. With a flick of Fanfer’s wrist, a crack was heard and Alfred’s body went limp.

  “That is one,” said Fanfer.

  “Good,” said Oswald.

  Fanfer released his grip and Alfred’s corpse fell to the ground. His unseeing eyes stared at Oswald, who approached the giant.

  “The next one lives down south, in Cardiff. I’ll show you where he lives.”

  “No. The mark of Necronis on that one is faint. There is another we felt who reeks of Necronis. We go to him next. But all of that in good time,” he said, striding towards Alfred’s cottage. “Also, do you intend on dragging that box with you wherever you do? What if I make you something to carry it in?” he asked.

  “I’d – I’d be delighted.”

  “Excellent. I can have it done after breakfast. Now, what would you care to have?”

  Chapter 3: Arcanus

  Christophe walked the length of the hallway to the room at the very end. He stood in front of it for a few minutes, re-arranging his clothes to make himself look more presentable, before giving three light raps on the door. When he heard the invitation, he opened the door and entered.

  Fotherington stood in front of a large window looking out, his hands clasped behind his back. Sunlight streamed in, surrounding him in a brilliant corona and giving his hair the appearance of a halo.

  “Christophe, I have a job for you,” he said without turning.

  Christophe waited.

  “There was an incident at Lockwood Asylum some days ago – an escape. Circus Infinitus was involved.” Fotherington relayed the story told by Mr. Orr but kept so still he might have been a statue. Christophe felt a growing irritation towards Fotherington and fought the temptation to sigh loudly.

  Why don’t you look at me when you talk to me?

  “What do you want me to do about it?” asked Christophe.

  “There was an inmate who went with them, a Mr. Kenneth Monckton. I want you to find out the significance of this man.”

  “Maybe they’re recruiting for a new act.”

  Fotherington finally turned around. “Do you find this job beneath you?”

  “No, not at all,” replied Christophe.

  “Good. That is all then. I hope your search will be fruitful.”

  Christophe gave a slight bow and turned for the door. On the wall to his right, the Stigmata crest caught the rays of the sun and shone brightly. He turned his head away from the reflected light and departed the room. Outside, he released the pent-up sigh and walked back the way he had come.

  Why does he need me to do this? He can just go to the circus himself. He’s done it before, he thought moodily. What does he want me to do when I find this Monckton fellow? Arrest him? Insufferable little man!

  Christophe welcomed the outdoor air after the brief meeting with Fotherington. The Stigmata building kept its own stables, and the only one using it regularly was Christophe. He headed there now. His mount, Octavius, grunted softly when he saw Christophe. A bit of drool dripped to the ground and he blinked all eight of his eyes in unison. The smell of meat drew Octavius’s attention immediately to Christophe’s approach. He eyed the bucket Christophe had with him, stamping his powerful legs impatiently. Drops of blood flew in with the meat. It landed on the hay just by Octavius’s left foot, and he snatched it up in his jaws immediately. Rows of teeth were displayed as he chewed the meat with gusto.

  “Here. There’s more meat for you,” said Christophe as he flung more pieces in. The sound of Octavius’s masticating jaws satisfied Christophe. “Eat up, boy. We have a job to do.”

  Christophe left with Octavius in the afternoon. He passed a procession of people on the street, but none of them took any notice of his dress or his mount for the glamour which fooled their sights. To them, he was a gentleman on horseback, a common sight which warranted no curiosity. But he had on his robes and his headdress, looking beastly with the majestic antlers sprouting from his head and the mane of wild hair flowing behind him.

  He had received reports that the circus was set up in the east, and he hurried there with the westering sun behind his back. He fingered the charmed pendant which cast the glamour, working his fingers over and over its surface so that it now felt warm to his touch. It was something that he was proud of for he had never produced such a glamour before: a mask to fool all five senses of humans and animals alike. The wind blew in his face, and he took this moment to enjoy the ride.

  By late afternoon, he saw the big tent in the distance. There were many carriages headed in that direction, and upon looking inside, he noticed many of the occupants were the wealthier members of society. Elegant women made up for the evening sat with impeccably dressed gentlemen. There appeared to be plenty of gossip, by the snide and shocked expressions on some of these faces. The entrance to the circus bore a sign painted in garish colours. Christophe entered the grounds, filled now with innumerable people milling about. Sounds assailed him from all directions; there were roars of animals, shrieks of women and children, loud clapping and cheering, and in the background, a soft discordant sound of grinding machinery. Behind the big tent, large chimneys soared into the sky, spewing smoke. He guided Octavius to one of the men who, from appearance looked like he worked there.

  “You there,” he called out to Busboy, “where can I tether my horse?”

  “Follow me,” said Busboy, taking hold of the reins and leading Octavius to the stables. “A fine ‘orse you ‘ave ‘ere,” he said, patting the coat. Christophe smiled to himself. He dismounted and thanked Busboy, but before he left, caressed the scales on Octavius’s cheek lovingly. Out among the crowds, he made his way to the big tent, where a show was already underway. After paying the entrance fee, he entered into the dimness.

  He kept an eye out for the inmate from Lockwood Asylum, a moustached middle-aged chubby man with a mole on his forehead, but there was no sign of him. The performances themselves intrigued him in some parts, but these were not many. He turned to look at his neighbours, and saw that they were rapt. When he turned his sights back onto the stage, he felt the need to stifle a yawn.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you have enjoyed the show,” announced a voice. “We regret to inform you that the Fiji Mermaids will not be performing for the foreseeable future. It is with a heavy heart that I say this, but rest assured, they will be entertaining you with their wonderful antics very soon.”

  Christophe rose from his seat. Waiting to file out with the rest of the audience, he scanned his surroundings another time. A man wearing a cloak and top hat emerged from behind the curtains. Christophe’s interest rose immediately upon seeing the
Ringmaster. For a brief second, their eyes met. The Ringmaster frowned slightly and then gave an enigmatic smile.

  “Excuse me,” muttered a gentleman from behind.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Christophe and he moved aside for the man to pass. When he looked up again, the Ringmaster was gone. A feeling of discomfort came over him. He felt as if someone was standing next to him, or at the very same spot he stood on.

  Who are you, mind reader? Are you the Ringmaster? Christophe projected his thoughts.

  Who are YOU? Why are you here? Christophe heard in his mind.

  My business is my own, he replied. Do you always make it a habit to intrude on people’s thoughts without their leave?

  No, but you are different. Your motives are unclear to me, and I must ensure the safety –

  A sudden scream from outside broke the communication. Christophe saw a scene of confusion through the opening. People ran about in panic. The man who had led his horse to the stables appeared at the entrance, shouting, “Ringmaster. Yer needed out ‘ere.”

  The Ringmaster ran out from behind the curtains with others in his wake. The lightning eater, Professor Abacus, had electricity crackling up and down his arm as he tried to squeeze past, shouting at people to steer clear. Felina the Beastmistress bounded behind him to be followed by John Merrick, the Elephant Man, who slithered octopus-like on his tentacular limbs. As the Ringmaster passed him, their eyes met a second time, and Christophe saw determination and concern contained therein.

  Oswald stayed close to Fanfer. He adjusted the straps of the rucksack on his shoulders, wriggling his body as he felt the weight of the box inside shifting. A scene of chaos fronted him. People screamed, running to escape. Fanfer loomed tall over their heads.

  The Spindle Cat meowed softly and Fanfer took a step forward which equalled two large strides of Oswald’s. Those directly in front of Fanfer parted like a wave, jumping aside to avoid him. Many bumped into their neighbours and tumbled. A lady tripped over the train of her dress and fell. She reached for her ankle and rubbed it, her face wrinkled in pain. All about her, a flurry of stomping feet risked trampling on her. She cowered on the ground and when she looked up, she saw the giant reaching for her. She screamed. Two giant hands wrapped themselves around her body and lifted her up. When Fanfer released her again away from the running hordes, he saw that she had passed out.

  “Why did you do that?” asked Oswald, bemused.

  “Because we shall not tarnish our cause by harming an innocent,” said Fanfer.

  Oswald could see the circus performers gathered at the opening to the big tent. At the head was the Ringmaster.

  “Who are we after anyway?” asked Oswald.

  “The one with the cloak and hat,” said Fanfer. “He is the one we want.”

  The giant approached the Ringmaster with purpose, his face drawn in a scowl.

  “All of you,” said the Ringmaster. “I want you to stay out of the way. He’s here for me.” He stepped forward and announced to Fanfer, “Welcome to Circus Infinitus. How may we help you?”

  “Disciple of Necronis,” Fanfer’s voice boomed. “It is a task fallen unto me to rid this place of your presence. Know that your god is unwelcome here.”

  “Fanfer,” interrupted Oswald. “I don’t know him. He wasn’t involved in my imprisonment. There’s no point in us being here.”

  “Oswald. You wanted the disciples of Necronis wiped out. If you leave this one alone, then the influence of Necronis prevails. Do you wish to have your desire fulfilled?”

  “Yes, but – ”

  Before he could finish, Fanfer took two more steps forward. The Spindle Cat hopped off his shoulder and slid down his broad back to land delicately on the ground. It came to Oswald’s side and hopped onto his shoulders.

  The giant’s fists pounded the earth on the spot where the Ringmaster stood. He had launched himself into the air and now landed a short distance away, his cloak spread behind him and his top hat still on his head. While Fanfer’s arms were still connected to the earth, the Elephant Man slithered around them, holding them together with his amorphous limbs. Fanfer struggled for awhile, releasing a sharp scream, and then The Elephant Man was flung to the ground. Lightning bolts hit Fanfer and apart than taking a half-step back, he appeared unharmed. He looked down at his chest, where a sliver of smoke slithered upwards. With a quick brush of his hand, the smoke disappeared. Fanfer tightened his body, causing the muscles around his chest, arms and shoulders to bulge with the effort, and he charged.

  A roar resounded all around as Suresh leapt into the air and landed on Fanfer. Suresh appeared less than half of Fanfer’s size. He raked Fanfer’s flesh and then dug his claws deeply. Streaks of blood appeared, but the wounds closed almost immediately. Fanfer grappled with Suresh, and in spite of being so much bigger, he fell. A slight vibration was felt as the two of them hit the earth.

  “Suresh!” yelled Felina. She ran towards Suresh with Cuddles in tow. Fanfer lay on his back and Cuddles jumped on top of him, slashing him with the iron claws he wore. Felina called to Suresh, who answered her immediately. Fanfer took a deep breath as he felt Suresh’s weight lifting off him. With Cuddles still slashing, biting and roaring, he turned to see a blur of orange, striped fur. Felina smiled at Suresh, but her smile turned into a mask of horror as Fanfer’s foot met Suresh’s body. The kick flung Suresh into the air, and where he landed, he lay very still.

  Felina rushed to Suresh’s side. Tears rimmed her eyes as she stroked his fur. He growled softly and appeared to be in much pain. Her hands formed into fists, and they trembled by her side. When she turned to face Fanfer, who had pushed Cuddles aside and now struggled to get to his feet, the corners of her lips curled up in a snarl. Fur grew from her skin and she bounded on all fours towards him.

  “Felina! No!” shouted the Ringmaster but she did not turn. She leapt into the air with arms outstretched and claws out. Fanfer swung his arm and would have swatted Felina like a fly but her body very suddenly became immobilised in mid-air, and his hand hit empty space instead. She screamed in rage and cast an angry look in the Ringmaster’s direction.

  A wave of metal bolts flew through the air accompanied by a loud bang. They embedded themselves in Fanfer’s flesh and he yelled out.

  “I ‘ope yer feel that. Yer fink yer can come ‘ere an’ pick a fight? No’ on my watch.”

  Another wave of bolts flew out of Busboy’s guns. Fanfer brushed them aside and picked a few off his skin. The zombies of the circus then dashed towards Fanfer. Comedy and Tragedy scurried up his leg; the Limbonis flew through the air, guided by the Ringmaster onto his body, where they bit and harried him; Steamsaw ran at Fanfer’s legs with his chainsaw; and X charged at him. Fanfer kicked Steamsaw to the ground and stomped on his chainsaw. It clanged loudly and sputtered dead. X got a hold of Fanfer and tried to lift him but Fanfer reached down and pulled X off the ground instead. The look of surprise on X’s face was still apparent as he flew through the air and landed with a resounding crash. The others clung onto Fanfer like insects but he shook them off easily.

  Christophe stood in the shadows of the big tent watching the events which transpired. He had seen the concern on the Rignmaster’s face and felt the sincerity of his words during their communication. And now, he saw the Ringmaster protecting his people.

  The giant did not seem daunted by the adversaries he faced. Although his body was marked with scratches, they healed with remarkable speediness; and he seemed barely tired, unlike those on the Ringmaster’s side. When the giant proceeded with a fresh round of attack, Christophe stepped forward.

  “STOP!” he yelled. The giant’s gaze flickered briefly in his direction. There was a look of puzzlement on his face, but soon, he returned his attention to the Ringmaster. Christophe concentrated. The earth seemed to tremble and suddenly, a mouth appeared beneath the giant. Fanfer landed with a loud crash and the earth closed around him, encircling him up to the waist.

  “Who are you? You are not w
ith them. Why have you helped them?” demanded Fanfer. “And why do you wear that glamour?”

  The others turned to look at the gentleman in the doorway. The Ringmaster seemed especially interested. Christophe thought the look on the Ringmaster’s face was one of gratefulness. But it was so transient that within a few seconds, it had turned to that enigmatic look that he had on when their eyes first met.

  Meeting their gaze with pride, he declared, “I am Arcanus!”

  Chapter 4: Grimoire

  “Why are you protecting him?” Fanfer roared.

  “You’re wrong to come after him,” replied Christophe.

  “I have made an agreement. All disciples of Necronis must be eliminated.”

  “Can’t you see he isn’t a disciple?”

  “The mark is on him.”

  “His actions speak for themselves.”

  “Actions can be feigned.”

  “No. These are sincere,” said Christophe adamantly. “And this agreement that you mentioned: with whom did you make it?” he asked.

  Fanfer kept silent. It was then that all eyes fell on Oswald, who had sat unnoticed by them during the fight. He kept his hands on the straps of the rucksack tightly. The Spindle Cat still lay draped around his shoulders. He looked into those eyes and again felt comforted.

  Without warning, the cat sprang from his shoulders and sped towards Fanfer. Even when it ran, it possessed a grace which was bewitching to watch.

  “Wait!” Oswald called out and ran after the cat.

  He almost stumbled, his movements made clumsy with the rucksack on his back. The Spindle Cat hopped onto Fanfer’s back and turned to look at Oswald. Oswald puffed his way towards them. He could see the Spindle Cat opening its third eye. A golden light emanated from it and washed over them. There was the familiar sweet smell and the forms of Fanfer and the cat began to waver.