“I…but…” Trent had seen something impossible. Cora sympathized. Simon had just magically ripped a gun out of her hands, despite the several feet of space between them, then apparently made it disappear. He had barely moved. Trent wasn’t taking it well. He threaded his fingers into his hair and looked at Simon and Cora in vaguely concealed panic.
“If she had one, how did I take it away?” Simon shrugged. “I think it must be the whirling lights and overabundant exercise you’ve been getting, hm? Perhaps the smell of the gasoline-powered rides is affecting you. Go see Ludwig. He’ll take care of you.”
“But—but—” Trent shook his head. “No. Cora. What the fuck just happened?”
Simon didn’t give her a chance to answer. “Cora and I have some business to attend to. Everything is fine. Isn’t it, Cora?” He looked to her then, and there was a very thinly veiled threat in his words. “There’s nothing wrong…correct?”
She felt her heart pounding in her ears. But she swallowed down the panic and nodded. It was stilted, and strained, but it was the best she could do. She looked to Trent and forced herself to smile. “It’s all right. Go on, Trent. Go see Ludwig.”
“But—I saw—you just…” Trent shook his head. She watched him go through the same thing she’d been experiencing over the past two days. He saw something impossible, and instead of accepting it, went with the easier answer. That his eyes had just been playing tricks on him. “I guess. That was super weird…” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I guess I do feel kinda lightheaded.”
“Poor thing. Tell Strongman to go easier on you, hum?” Simon smirked.
“It’s okay, Trent,” she insisted firmly. “You should go see Ludwig. Simon and I need to talk.”
Trent took a step back, shaking his head. He clearly didn’t understand what was happening. He chewed on his lip. She understood. She really did. But she didn’t say anything. Trent finally gave up. “O—okay. I’ll…I’ll see you later, Cora.” And with that, he left.
A hand settled on her shoulder. “It’s so easy to convince mortals that what they’ve seen is false. They’d rather ignore the impossible than rethink their understanding of reality. Isn’t that true, Cora dear?”
She jerked away from him and took a few steps back. Not that it would help her if he wanted to do anything. He’d shown her very quickly that his bizarre strings were not just in her dream. “How did you do that?”
“The same way I restrained you last night when you tried to stab me.” He stepped toward her. “Charming notion, by the by. I was very flattered by the thought.”
“Give me my gun back.”
“Why?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I might need it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. As for Trent…eh.” He shrugged.
“Don’t you dare hurt him.”
“Why would I?” Simon chuckled. “He’s perfectly boring. Let him and Ludwig have their fun, I say.” He clasped his hands behind his back again. “You, on the other hand, are quite interesting. Come, Cora. Let’s discuss our negotiation.”
“No. That’s not why I’m here.” She walked away from him, heading in the direction of where all the funhouses were set up. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Really?” He was walking next to her, easily keeping up with his long legs. “That’s disappointing. After our chat last night, I thought you would have changed your mind.”
“No.”
He sighed, shrugged, and kept walking alongside her. When he began whistling a tune, it was very clear she needed to try harder to get rid of him.
“Go away.” She glared at him. It was bad enough she was back inside the man-eating murder-circus. She didn’t need the maniac next to her grinning like he wanted to eat her whole. He probably did.
“No-pe.” He popped the last half of the word again. “Oh, don’t look so glum, Cora dear! Now. If you aren’t here to talk to me, why come back? I thought you said you’d never set foot in here again.”
“I’m not going to tell you.” She tried to walk faster to get rid of him, but he was so damn tall, and his legs were so long, it was useless.
“I can help you with whatever it is you’re here to do. I do live here, after all.” He leaned in a little closer. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
“We aren’t friends.” She shot him another vicious look.
He staggered and gripped his chest as if she had actually shot him like she had threatened to. Cackling at his own melodrama, he caught back up to her quickly. “Come, don’t be stubborn. Accept help where it’s offered! And this assistance comes free. Whatever are you hunting for tonight, Cora dear?”
She debated not telling him. But he wasn’t going to go away, and he was going to find out eventually once she found it. “I need to find the hall of mirrors.”
His brows scrunched together. “Whatever for?” When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her hand and suddenly yanked her around to face him. “What mystery do you think you’re solving, darling? The secrets of the Faire?” He chuckled. “I have all the answers you could possibly need. What do you wish to know?”
“And why the fuck would I trust you?” She tried to pull her hand away, but he only tugged her closer. When he wrapped an arm around her, she shoved on his chest with her free hand. He might as well have been a wall. The smell of antiques, warm and welcoming, slid over her again, mixed with an equally old-fashioned but enticing cologne. “Stop it!”
“Talk to me. That’s all I ask.”
“Let me go.”
“Talk to me, and I will.”
“Fine!” She shoved him. He released her obediently and she quickly put distance between them. He stood there, eerily smiling, the lights flashing off his sunglasses, and waited for her to explain herself. She sighed. “There’s no getting rid of you, is there?”
“So many people have asked that question that I’m starting to take it personally.”
That almost made her laugh. She might have if she didn’t want to also smack the shit out of him. She started walking toward the funhouse area again, and Simon fell into step beside her. “I found an article in an old newspaper. It had a poem in it that was interesting.” She took it out of her coat pocket and handed it to him. And the Faire showed me photos. But she didn’t know if she wanted to admit that part just yet. She might not be able to get rid of him, but she certainly couldn’t trust him.
“Interesting how?” He took the photocopy and lowered his glasses down his nose to read it. She wondered if the tinted glasses ever bothered him since he seemed to wear them all the time, but promptly decided she didn’t care.
“It might be a clue to what’s going on here in the Faire.”
“There’s no mystery to solve, cupcake. I’ve told you everything you need to know. But does this mean you believe what’s going on now?”
She slid her camera in front of her on the strap and turned it on. The photos were still as she would have expected them to be. Freshly painted signs and brightly lit bulbs. But she still knew what she had seen with the abandoned photos. Simon and his strings…and everything else. It was just too much to ignore. “Yeah…I guess I do.”