Joanna awoke to the sound of shattering glass. She was on her feet in an instant, heart pounding and head spinning bad enough to nearly make her fall right back over. It took her a few panicked, shallow breaths to remember where she was.

  The stove still radiated heat, but the wood had burned down to a bed of embers. Their warm orange-red glow was the only light source. Jo looked around at the messy room and sighed.

  Merrick had kindly cleared off enough of the floor for her to sleep near the hearth, and had even offered her a shirt and blanket to sleep in. They’d both been filthy, so she’d politely refused and slept curled in the giant coat the horse thief had thrown at her.

  It spoke to the level of her exhaustion that she had been able to sleep at all, surrounded as she was by trash, dirty dishes, and cigarette butts.

  Now as she took stock of all the trash piles she wondered if there were roaches in the arctic regions. Disgust at that wonderful thought drove her to reach for her boots, which had been left beside the stove to dry off while she slept. She tugged them on with still numb– but, thankfully, no longer blue-tinged– fingers and spread the coat out where they had been instead, in hopes that the last of the dampness would be cooked out of it.

  Merrick, she saw, had fallen asleep at the table. His hand was out in front of him as if he’d fallen asleep holding something. Which, judging from the spill across the table and the broken bottle by his feet (that explained the shattering noise), he had. She turned slowly around where she stood, trying to locate anything like a washbasin.

  There was a door she hadn’t noticed before, but she didn’t want to check it without permission so she instead hissed at Merrick. “Hey! Psst!”

  His eyes rolled open, glazed and unfocused, and rested on her. “Never funny, always joking,” he mumbled darkly.

  “Merrick!” She tried again. He startled, eyes clearing, then spotted her and straightened up.

  “Sorry, must have dozed off. What time is it?”

  Jo shrugged pointedly. “I haven’t a clue. Why aren’t there any windows in here?”

  Merrick ignored this and pulled out a pocketwatch. “Oh good. I can have breakfast before my call-time.” He frowned at her. “What the fuck do I do with you?”

  “Can I please just go get my horse? I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.” Jo tried. It was worth a shot.

  “I’m sorry,” Merrick said. He sounded like he meant it, too. “You’ll die out there anyway, but especially with the crowd that’s due to show up later. And,” he nodded to himself. “I don’t do death.”

  Anxious all over again, Jo followed him out of the room and down another series of confusing hallways. “That does give me an idea, though,” he whispered to her over a shoulder. “After breakfast. I think I know where you can be useful.”

  The smell of baking bread put every other thought out of Jo’s head. How long had it been since she’d eaten? No wonder she’d woken up so dizzy. Merrick smiled at the look on her face, but it was a guarded smile. “I’m sure you’re starved. But be careful in here. Careful what you say, careful what questions you answer.”

  Jo mumbled agreement but her focus was still on the smells. Her nose tipped up to follow it like a hunting dog on a trail. And by the time Merrick led them at last into a brightly-lit canteen, she was nearly drooling.

  The hum of conversation stopped in a wave as they walked in. Jo tried to hide behind Merrick as best she could, but every single pair of eyes honed in on her immediately. She had never felt so exposed in her life.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” someone drawled as they passed. Jo kept her eyes trained on a far wall, not wanting to be seen ducking her head but also desperate to not accidentally stare at anyone. The people seated around the tables eating were some of the strangest she’d ever seen.

  Merrick passed by the tables and took a tray from a pile, indicating that Jo should do the same. She did, with shaking hands, and was quietly thankful when Merrick loaded up her tray for her so she didn’t need to interact with anyone. It was mostly simple fare, but the bread alone looked worth its weight in gold to her.

  They sat together at a table close to the wall, where a big, hunch-backed man sat alone over a bowl of something. He ignored them.

  Jo looked down at the piece of bread on her tray, steam curling off of it, and found herself close to tears. She forced her body to slow down, picking it up carefully and eating at a pace that wouldn’t upset her too-empty stomach.

  There was a bowl of oat porridge, a piece of some kind of fish, and an egg beside the bread. She noticed Merrick had only taken the bread and a cup of something dark and steaming.

  “Merrick!” Someone shouted over at them. Merrick’s shoulders tensed but he leaned back as if without a care in the world. An olive-skinned man with black hair and no shirt sat down across from them. His face was all showy confidence. “Who’s the victim?”

  Merrick chuckled. “Ringmaster’s orders, I’m afraid.” He looked at Jo. “This is Sevien.”

  “A pleasure,” Sevien said warmly, offering her his hand. She took it reluctantly. “I hope you find the show to your liking,” he said, squeezing her fingers slightly harder than necessary before letting go. “I must get to rehearsal but, I expect I’ll get a chance to get to…” His eyes traveled down her face appraisingly. “know you better soon.”

  “Cocky but harmless,” Merrick muttered between sips of his drink once Sevien had left. Jo filed that note away and continued to eat. Every time she looked up, she found everyone in the room staring at her, so she kept her eyes on the food and tried not to move too much.

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  She had nearly finished, and Merrick was on his third cup of whatever he was drinking, when the doors to the room banged open and a woman covered from the chin down in tattoos rushed in. She looked furious.

  “Second act you’re up early!” She shouted. A number of people jumped to their feet in response and hurried out the door. Merrick made no move to get up, even when she glared at him. “Merrick!”

  He looked up. “I’ll be there, Alice.”

  She stormed over to him, blue eyes wide with rage, and swiped the cup off the table to shatter on the floor. Merrick just sighed. “You better be,” she hissed. Then, spotting Jo for the first time, she made a face of disgust. “What the hell is this?”

  Merrick kicked the back of Jo’s ankle under the table, stopping her protest before it left her mouth. “Ringmaster’s business,” he told her calmly. “I’m taking her to the pen, and then I will be on my cue, at my call time. And not a moment sooner.”

  She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Ten minutes.” Her elaborate heels crunched on pieces of the smashed mug as she stomped off, slamming the doors so hard that the lights flickered out for a moment.

  Merrick took Jo by the arm and pulled her out of the canteen without bothering to pick up. Jo was only too glad to leave the place. She found that she was trembling and hated herself for it.

  “Weird place,” she said as they walked down another series of halls. Her attempt at lightening the mood was not wasted on Merrick, who cast a glance back at her and barked a laugh.

  “You’ve no idea,” he said grimly.

  They walked on, Jo’s mind whirling with new information and panic in equal measure. She recognized where they were headed before they got there, and felt a glimmer of hope. It was where she’d first come in. Where Tumble was! Maybe she could escape after all.

  “Listen,” Merrick pulled her around to face him. “You’re going to be with Lorraine. I trust her. Nobody here is perfect but few are actually safe. She is. Listen to her, do as she says, keep your head down. I’ll come get you after rehearsal and we’ll find you somewhere more pleasant to bunk for the night.”

  “Okay,” Jo stammered, panic rising in her throat at the thought of being left alone again. Merrick had been the only normal person she’d met since she and Nate had set out for supplies, and she found herself terrified to be in this place without him.

  He pushed the door open and guided her in. “Rainy!” He called out. The woman who stepped out was, thankfully, familiar. It was the horse-thief whose advice had spared Jo from that cat-monster.

  “What?” She asked, eyeing Jo as if she’d never seen her before.

  “This girl is here for Kaamos, Zeph’s orders. She needs something to do to keep her out of the way while we rehearse. She knows animals.”

  “Always chores in here,” Lorraine said. Something seemed to pass silently between Merrick and her, then he left and Jo was alone again with the thief. She gulped.

  “You can help clean. I’ll show you the stalls I’m doing today and you can watch and learn.”

  Jo was led into the big area where she’d first come into the building, but instead of turning towards the stables she was brought in the other direction, where an odd cluster of giant stalls led off in three directions. The closest one was where they went.

  Lorraine slid a bolt out and pushed the door and Jo gasped out loud at the animal inside.

  “Is that an elephant?” She asked in awe. It was the biggest creature she’d ever seen; the photos in books didn’t come close to doing it justice. And its eyes, long-lashed and glassy, seemed preternaturally gentle.

  “It is,” Lorraine replied. “But don’t get too excited, they make quite a mess.”

  Jo hardly heard her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the beast’s massive head. It moved its long trunk towards Lorraine as if in greeting, earning a smile that changed her unassuming face into something lovely. Woman and elephant exchanged hellos that involved a lot of chin scratches and, on the elephant’s part, hair-mussing.

  “You can come say hi if you want, but be careful.”

  “I can touch it?”

  “Her,” Lorraine corrected. “You can pet her, sure. She’s the friendliest one. We call her Reus.”

  Awe completely erasing her fear for the first time since she and Nate were separated, Jo hesitantly approached the massive animal with an outstretched hand.

  “Hello there, Reus,” she whispered. The elephant brushed its trunk against her palm, then gently poked at her arm, her shoulder, her hair. As if examining her.

  “She’s curious,” Lorraine explained. “Scratch around her ear, she likes that.”

  Jo moved slowly, a bit frightened by the sheer size of the creature. She reached up towards one large, flat ear and stroked the skin there. The skin was like leather, surprisingly soft despite how dry and wrinkled it was. Reus leaned her head into the touch, perking that ear up a bit to offer better access. Jo laughed in surprise.

  “If you want to start here,” Lorraine said. “The other elephants are less friendly so I’ll do their stalls myself later. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”

  Giving Reus a final pat on the trunk, Jo followed Lorraine out of that row of stalls and back to the main area. She was given a muck rake and led to a hayloft, where the two of them worked pulling down bale after bale of hay.

  They worked in silence, mucking out Reus’s stall bit by bit and laying down fresh bedding. Jo found the work to be soothing; a familiar toil in an unfamiliar place. She was nearly able to forget everything that had happened as she worked.

  When they paused for a break outside the elephant’s hall, Jo finally worked up the courage to ask about Tumble.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured. “But can I just ask if my horse is-” the word stuck in her throat. “Is he okay?”

  Lorraine looked at her, the dim light of the stableyard hiding most of her face in shadow so that Jo could not read her expression. The silence was nearly to the point of being uncomfortable when Lorraine finally said, simply, “he will live.”

  Tears suddenly stung at the back of Jo’s eyes. She felt nearly crushed by relief. And on its heels, hope flickered. She could at least get herself and Tumble to safety, if she was careful.

  “What is he called?”

  The question took her by surprise. Jo sniffled at the few tears that had escaped and chuckled weakly. “Tumble. Well, Tumbleweed but most everyone calls him Tumble.”

  Lorraine’s face made her laugh outright. “Poor beast,” she said. “That’s a terrible name.”

  Both of them laughed a little at that, and Jo felt something thaw between them. It was slight, a barely-there change from the cold silence most of the day had been spent in, but she felt herself relax a little for the first time since she’d arrived.

  The lights overhead flickered suddenly, and Lorraine stood up. “Rehearsal time for the animals,” she announced. Jo couldn’t help but notice the grim tone in the woman’s voice and the way her face darkened.

  She was about to ask if they needed to do anything when the doors out of the animal pens banged open.’

  “Oh Len, my dearest!” A male voice, pitched in playful falsetto, called out. The answering cry came not from Lorraine but from all of the animals. They whinnied, brayed, howled, and stomped furiously and all at once— an ear-splitting racket that struck Jo not as a happy greeting so much as a collective outcry of pure, animalistic terror.