I walk around the side of a tent and stop when I reach the costume trailer. I need a connection to Odin – perhaps something in Karl’s notebook would help. A raven lands on the handle of the trailer door and twitches its head. It caws then flies away and I think about the last time I was in there. When I held Odin’s mask to my face it tried to pull me closer. Hel was angry with me, and Sandrine said wearing her falcon mask gave her dreams that she could fly. What if the masks provide a link to the gods and creatures they portray?
I climb the steps to the trailer and open the door. The end wall is empty apart from a single golden face: Baldur. Of course, the actors will be getting ready for tonight’s show, they will have the masks. Karl said that no one would play the part now that Nina has gone. That must be why it’s still here. There is something desperately sad about the beautiful golden face shining alone in the darkness, and I have a sudden feeling it might be the key to everything.
I turn and jump down the steps. If I want to find the crooked mask, I need to find the man who plays Odin. The performers said Karl was dismantling the floodlights. If everyone is in the field trying to stop him, maybe that’s where he’ll be.
I make my way to the end of the walkway and scan the expanse of snow. Thick mist swirls over the ground and it takes a moment to see them. Around forty costumed performers are gathered around the circle of skull poles, just beyond the Viking ship. Those on stilts congregate at the back, including the three Norns, the ravens, and the frost giant I met on the first day. I walk over and there are more people I recognise: Sandrine in her feathered mask, the Chinese knife-throwers in their ballgowns, along with Oskar, Ruth and Ulva. I don’t see Stig, or the actor who plays Odin. Most of the people are wearing masks so I can’t see their expressions, but I can sense their anxiety. It rolls off them, heavy and cold like the fog.
I find a gap among the leather-clad Valkyries all wearing the same costume as me and push to the front. Karl stands alone in the middle of the circle, a look of cornered prey about him. He gives me a pleading look, as if hoping I’ve come to persuade the others, but there’s nothing I can do. If they don’t tell Loki’s story, he’s promised that no one’s shall be heard.
A man wearing antlers addresses the crowd. ‘Karl is right. There have been too many changes. We’ve always been family friendly, that’s what we’re about. This new fire show we’re doing, not allowing children to enter and hiring security staff, it’s a mistake. I say we call it off.’
A muffled voice croaks, ‘We can’t cancel, people have paid. The circus will go bust!’ I look over my shoulder and a raven flaps his winged arms and twitches his head, his grey beak moving from side to side. There’s something almost too bird-like about its movements and I have a feeling that I’m not looking at a man dressed up. Could it be that the figure standing next to me isn’t entirely human? I glance over to the Norns. They crowd close to one another and whisper in hushed tones, their raspy voices alarmingly familiar. I stare at their crude masks, covered with clumps of earth and moss, a mass of twisted twigs stretched across the top. The cheek of one twitches and another frowns. Even though I’ve seen their masks move before, it’s still unnerving. I’m watching in wonder when an old woman touches my arm, startling me.
She wears tiny white antlers on her head, and beneath it a band of fringed leather so that I can’t see her eyes. She pats my arm and speaks with a Russian accent. ‘Don’t worry, the circus has been going for a hundred years and it will go for a hundred more.’ Her costume brushes me and I sense deep love tethering her to this place. The people here are her family, this is her home.
I do my best to smile but my chest is so tight I can hardly breathe. It’s foretold that Loki will bring about Ragnarok, the end of the world, and tonight the circus is going to re-enact it. He killed Baldur, the most beloved of the gods, and he said himself that he doesn’t care about humans. Loki is clever and scheming; the master manipulator. If there really is a wager, I’m going to need Odin’s help. I don’t know if the crooked mask will allow me to contact him, but right now it’s my best hope.
Mumbles of disagreement turn to anger and suddenly everyone is arguing. I turn to the woman and shout over the noise, ‘Have you seen the actor who plays Odin?’ She shrugs and I ask the Valkyries behind me, but they haven’t seen him. A group of antlered men look at me blankly, and then the guy with tattoos who was arguing with Stig comes over. He speaks loudly, as if he wants everyone to hear. ‘That boy you’re with, he’s trouble.’
‘Stig?’
He touches his finger first to his left cheek and then to the right one. ‘He has two faces.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘His last girlfriend died. He has a temper, ask anyone here.’
Before I can say anything, he turns and walks away. I stare into the crowd of performers, my heart racing. Part of me was hoping I’d made a mistake when I read Nina’s catsuit, but the evidence is undeniable. The reason he ignored my messages and then suddenly showed up, the reason people here don’t trust him. I want to go after the boy and ask him what he knows, but there’s no time. I have to find the crooked mask.
I call up to the raven performers behind me, ‘The man who plays Odin, have you seen him?’ The bird-men take a few steps one way and then the other, their feathers fluttering in the breeze. One of them twitches its head. ‘Have you tried the costume-change in the big top?’ The other nods, his beak moving up and down. ‘Yes, try there.’
I thank them and hurry towards the tents. The walkways are busy now: performers are moving large wire structures, and crew in black jackets are carrying lengths of cable and unlit firebrands. Oskar shouts at someone and sends another member of the crew back the way they came. He looks determined and in control, despite the chaos around him.
I turn the corner and stop. Stig is there. For a moment I wonder if it’s another trick, but something about the anxious look in his eyes tells me it’s really him.
‘Martha! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’ He glances at my costume. ‘You look amazing. It suits you, being a Valkyrie.’
I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the ground.
‘What is it, are you still sick?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You don’t look fine. You look like you’ve been crying. What’s wrong? Maybe I can help?’ When I don’t say anything, he asks, ‘Is it Loki? Or Nina – have you seen her again?’
He’s trying to find out how much I know, wondering if I’ve figured out how she died. I lift my head and make myself look him in the eye. ‘The guy you were arguing with – Nina’s ex – did they get back together? Is that what happened? You found out and lost your temper?’
‘No. Nina wasn’t interested in him.’ Stig gives me a strange look as if he’s just realised what I said. ‘What do you mean, is that what happened?’
‘So what were you arguing about with him?’ He doesn’t answer and I keep talking. ‘He thinks you had something to do with Nina’s death, doesn’t he?’
Stig drops his gaze.
I tighten my jaw, wishing he would tell me the truth. ‘I touched the catsuit that Nina was wearing when she died. I saw her last memories. I know she was wearing a harness.’