Chapter Twenty-Seven
Adelaide yipped in surprise, but somehow and for some reason, she was a lot less surprised than she expected herself to be. She was also a lot less afraid. Now that he had wings, the Carnival allowed him to leave the cliff. As they leapt off, there was a part of Addie that just let go of her fear.
When her hair whipped behind her and the night caressed her face, she felt the anxiety melt away like that mist in the breeze, wispy and immaterial and no longer there. She gazed down at the lights and caught snippets of carnival music, like the chimes of a distant music box playing only for her. She saw the Ferris wheel, majestic and promising, and Nicholas flew them right over it. It was empty, but the wheel’s center lights raced down every spoke as if alive.
All fun, no lines, she thought.
The night waited with its electric lights, with its mystery and secrets. It shone in a way the day never could. They flew over a carousel that slowly turned and shimmered in the moonlight, a fun house that yawned open and spooky, and countless smaller rides that beckoned for feet to walk their paths and hands to grip their bars. All the while, the sound of Nick’s wings beat steady and strong, rhythmic and hypnotizing.
The Carnival stretched to the horizon, a carpet of rainbow hues that glittered like a galaxy of stars. It went on forever. Yet, nowhere below did people move or mill. The park was empty. It was cheerily lit up and waiting like a living being with a pulsing heart, but empty and forgotten, like The Giving Tree when its boy had grown up.
Addie peered down at it in a kind of daze, hypnotized by its beauty and by her thoughts and by the secure feeling of Nicholas’s arms wrapped so tight around her. After a few minutes, she realized she felt safe. She felt like this was, for a lack of a better term, meant to be.
He lowered them to the ground gradually, carefully, and expertly. The lights became closer, the music louder, and Addie found her boots touching down on gray stone tiles beside one of the park’s many Ferris wheels. Addie craned her neck to take it all in. The cars or cages or whatever they were called were every color of the rainbow, and just as she’d suspected, they were all empty.
She turned around to face the Nightmare King.
She parted her lips to speak, but faltered. The sight of him momentarily struck her dumb – in the space of time since they’d left the cliff side, she’d forgotten how beautiful, and yet terrifying, he was. But she blinked, lowered her gaze, and gathered her thoughts. It was a little easier this time.
“The Carnival is empty,” she said softly. “Does it ever… feel lonely?”
Nicholas studied her for a moment, then regarded the Carnival around her. “At times, this park has welcomed thousands of Nightmares, fae, dragons, mages, vampires, and even Akyri. It is not always empty.”
Adelaide ran those words through her mind. Then she did it again, and this time, she touched her fingertips to her forehead. It felt warm, her fingers cool on fevered skin. Dragons… vampires… fae….
“By fae, do you mean elves?”
“Some are elves. Some are fairies. Some are Wishers or Tuathans. There are many types of fae.”
“But elves are real, then.”
He smiled. “Yes, Virginia. There are elves.”
Adelaide shook her head. “I knew it. I really did.” But that was nothing compared to the Nightmare Queen bit he’d laid on her. She blew out a breath. “I honestly don’t know how I’m processing all of this,” she admitted.
“I do.”
She dropped her hand and looked up.
He sighed and tilted his head a little. “Why don’t we get something to eat and, like I said, we can talk.”
He turned and started down the long “hall” that ran through the center of the Carnival of Night. She watched him go for a moment. She couldn’t help it. His wings seemed to magically sprout from his black tee-shirt, which hugged tight to a broad, well-muscled build that made her mouth water a little. The jacket had vanished. Equally tight jeans revealed strong, sculpted legs. Boots not unlike her own, leather and practical, finished the outfit. He cast every bit the impression she’d had of him earlier – a fallen angel.
His shadow on the stone beneath his boots was immense, body long, wings stretching into the darkness of the alleys on either side. It was as if his reflection were the real him, a smidgeon of the beast that lay underneath, the dark and the gigantic.
He glanced at her over his broad shoulder. “You coming?”
“Uh…” she shook her head and then nodded. “Yeah.”
She followed him past several rides and stands, all unmanned. One was blue and pink and had paintings of cotton candy above it, clearly a sweets stand. Another had a slushy machine drawn on it. But they were all dark beyond their windows. It was actually eerie. She wondered how Nicholas planned on getting food from a Carnival that had no workers.
They stopped in front of a yellow and white striped booth with no signs. Addie looked at the empty window and the darkness beyond, and her gaze narrowed. Okay, I can’t wait to see what he does with this. She glanced up at the winged man beside her, and he smiled.
Just as he had on the cliff side, Nicholas raised his arms at his sides and closed his eyes. The air rippled, and something strong moved over her, so powerful, it caused her hair to fly out around her, and nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Whoa!” she breathed as she stumbled back to catch her balance. She felt strange and tingly, and her heart was racing as if she’d just ingested an entire Monster Drink. She felt, for all intents and purposes – alive. “What the hell was… that….” She trailed off as she noticed several things at once.
The music around her had grown louder, and joining with it now were the sounds of hundreds of voices. They were raised in mock fear, laughter, and jubilant conversation. Adelaide stood where she was and slowly turned in place.
A child ran past her carrying several coins, speeding full-tilt toward the candy stand they’d passed earlier. He had white-blonde hair and eyes that were light yellow with lavender pupils. Tiny fangs peeked out from his top lip to rest upon his bottom lip. His ears were long and pointed.
Behind him followed a younger girl. She screamed for him to wait up, and without looking at her, he told her to hurry up. The girl had hair the same color as his, which led Addie to believe they were siblings. But hers was streaked with shots of purple the same shade as her pupils. The little girl’s ears were pointed as well, but a touch shorter. She, too, had fangs. However, unlike her older brother, wings rose from her back, dainty, graceful, and reminiscent of a dragonfly. The wings beat wildly behind her as if they could help her catch up to her brother, but he still beat her to the candy stand.
Which was now manned by a plump woman with thousands of bright red ringlets for hair and three eyes – two where Addie was accustomed to seeing them, and a third in the center of her forehead.
All around her, strange people walked, ran, milled, and rode the rides of the Carnival of Night. Moments ago, it had been a waiting reverie, beautiful but empty. And now it was filled to the brim with creatures of every imagination.
Addie gazed about her in wonder. “It’s like a dream,” she whispered.
“And so it should be,” came his voice at her ear. She felt a heat move through her at the sound so close to her skin. She turned and looked up. “It was made from dreams,” he told her. “It was made from mine.”