The Troupe (9 page)

At that, George opened his eyes and looked sideways at Silenus. Silenus appeared confused, but he did not look at George, nor did he say anything until he spied a large sweetshop at the corner ahead.

“Do you both see that big window there?” he said quietly. “There in that shop, on the other side of that corner?”

“Yes,” said Kingsley and George at once.

“All right. What we’re going to do is walk toward that very quickly. We’re not going to run. If we run, they’ll do something. We’re going to get to it as fast as we can without running. Okay?”

“And then what?” said Kingsley.

“You leave that up to me,” said Silenus. “All right? Let’s go.”

They picked up the pace very slightly, moving quickly toward the corner. The man behind cried, “Hey, now, where are you going? Are you leaving us so soon? You know there is not far to go…” Then the light behind them winked out, and though George wanted to look back and see if the man was still there, he refrained.

When they rounded the corner, Silenus said, “Stand right there in front of the window, both of you. And look in.” George did as he asked, and saw that they were staring in at their own reflections. Silenus took off a glove, stuffed it in his pocket, and took out his monocle. “Here,” he said, and handed it to George. “You seem more sensitive to them than either of us. After all, you can hear the bastards. Now just keep an eye on them, and tell me when they’re close.”

George looked at the lens in his hand. It was scuffed to the point that it was opaque, but he put it to his eye and peeked through. The world was rendered milky white, with no distinguishable buildings or forms in it, but among all the whiteness he could see black figures and dark shadows slowly moving toward them. He gasped and took his eye away and saw he’d been staring into a brick wall.

“What is this?” said George. “It can look through the wall?”

“It’s lightning glass,” said Silenus. He produced a small knife and made a very small incision on his finger, and let the blood dribble down to collect in the palm of his hand. George winced, but Silenus said, “It’s what’s left behind when lightning strikes sand dunes. If you polish it the right way, it becomes very sensitive to light and dark. Especially the darkness that follows the wolves.”

“They’re wolves?” said George.

“That’s one word for them, yeah,” said Silenus. He picked up a handful of soil from the gutter and began mixing it with the blood in his hand. When it began to turn to clumps, he spat into it and kept mixing. “Are you going to keep a fucking eye on them or not?”

George brought the monocle back up again. He saw the mass of darkness grouping at the alleys on the other side of the sweetshop. “They’re getting close,” he said. “Why are they moving so slow?”

“Because they don’t want to give us any way to escape,” said Silenus. “All right, I’m ready here. Both of you hold still. Just look in the window, and do
not
blink.”

George put down the monocle and watched. Silenus reached toward the glass and began to paint the mixture of blood and earth and saliva around their reflections in the window, drawing along their edges. He did it very carefully, making sure to account for every bump or bend in their forms. His own was the most awkward, as he was painting himself with his arm outstretched. Once he was done, he blew on the outline of blood and dirt and began picking at one corner of it.

“What are you doing?” asked George.

“Shut up,” suggested Silenus.

“Yes, please do,” said Kingsley.

George was about to make an angry reply, but stopped when he noticed something: although they had all spoken, none of their mouths had moved in the reflection.

Once Silenus had picked at the corner of the outline enough, he
took it between his thumb and forefinger and began pulling. George had expected it to flake away, but the outline seemed to hold together, as though it were made of resin. But then George saw Silenus was peeling away more than just the outline: there was something else coming off the glass, something ghostly and illusory…

When Silenus had gotten the thing off the window it collapsed in his hands like cloth or loose paper, and he began trying to stand it up on the sidewalk. When he finally got it upright, George saw they were staring into faint versions of their own faces, though Silenus’s was partially obscured by his arm, which seemed to be reaching out toward them. George looked back at the window and saw it was now blank. The reflections were gone; if he’d been seeing things correctly, their images in the window had been pulled from the glass to now stand on the sidewalk. They were faint, distorted things with the wrong dimensions in places, and they were all joined together at the hips, but other than that they looked almost exact.

“W-what?” asked George faintly.

“Now, kid, where are they coming at us?” said Silenus.

George jumped and looked through the monocle again. “From that alley there,” he said, and pointed.

“All right,” said Silenus. Then he whispered into the ears of each reflection. Up until now they had been static and frozen, but when they heard what he said each insubstantial face looked miserable and terrified.

“I know you don’t like it, but you got to,” said Silenus to them. “Besides, you wouldn’t have lived long anyways. Just until we passed out of the window. All right?”

The Silenus reflection nodded stiffly. “All right,” said the real Silenus. “Now—
go
.”

The three reflections turned around and began marching toward the alley George had indicated. They moved awkwardly, as they were essentially one mass with six legs, but they managed to stay upright.

“Back up,” said Silenus to George and Kingsley. “Up against the building, so they won’t see you.”

They flattened themselves against the wall and watched the progress of their reflections. When the three ghostly shapes made it to the alley they looked directly down it at whatever had been hunting them, and turned and ran away down the street.

There was a chorus of growls and cries as the things in the darkness gave chase. The mouth of the street grew murky, and Silenus whispered, “Don’t look! Look away and shut your eyes!”

They did as he said. The sound of hundreds of feet on paving stones filled the air, and if George’s ears were right it sounded as if the feet were clawed. The wind whipped around him and a chill trilled through his bones. He suddenly felt old, older than he ever had in his life, and he wanted to do nothing more than lie down on the sidewalk and never get up again. It was in this moment that curiosity overtook him, and George cracked open one eye, intending to look back. But when he did he saw Kingsley had already succumbed to that same impulse, and was staring over George’s shoulder at whatever was chasing their reflections down the street. His face was fixed in utter terror, and sweat ringed his brow. Then he saw George was watching him, and he scowled and shut his eyes and looked away.

Eventually the sounds and the chill faded. Silenus opened his eyes and looked around, then let out a breath. “They’re gone,” he said.

“Are you sure?” said George.

“I’m sure,” said Silenus. “I told our reflections to run clear across town if they could. They seem to have bought the ruse. Stupid things. We can breathe easy for a bit.”

Kingsley mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. “How did they get so close? You said that after the song was sung they couldn’t get within miles of us.”

“I know that’s what I fucking said!” said Silenus. “That’s how it’s always been! Something’s changed, but I don’t know what.”

“Or maybe it’s just not working anymore,” said Kingsley.

“That’s something I don’t want to consider,” he said. “Listen, the trick I just pulled won’t last forever. Let’s hurry back to the train station before they figure it out. Come on, kid.” He and Kingsley turned to make their way down the street.

But after being ridiculed, choked, and forced into a dangerous trap at gunpoint despite his protestations, George was no longer feeling so amenable to the man he’d spent over half a year trying to find, whether he was his father or not. “Why should I?” he asked.

Silenus looked back. “Eh?”

“Why should I come with you? What good would it do me? You’ve done nothing but abuse and ignore me since I met you. I tried to save your life, and you went and nearly got me killed anyways. So why should I?”

Silenus walked back, nodding his head. “Fair points, fair points,” he said. “But you’re forgetting, of course, that the wolves now think you’re with me. So they’ll be looking for you. And while you might not know exactly what they are, you know they’re bad news, and I think I’ve got a little more experience with them than you have. So it’s probably in your best interests to tag along with us, at least until you’re safe.”

George knew that these were very valid observations, but he was still reluctant to follow him.

“Come on, kid,” said Silenus, now quieter. “I didn’t know. These are dangerous times. I had to make sure.”

“Why do you want me to come at all?”

Silenus paused. His face was still and closed again, and George could tell he was thinking hard. “Let’s just say you’re quite the specimen. But in any case, it’d be a poor thing to leave you behind with the wolves hot on your scent.”

George considered it. “If I come with you, will you hurt me again?”

“I can’t promise that I won’t. Sometimes what needs to be done
needs to be done, even if it’s unpleasant. But I will promise to try my best to keep you safe, until I no longer can.”

“You will?” asked George suspiciously.

“It’s what I promise everyone who travels with me. Now come on before they double back, all right?”

George sighed. “All right.”

They jumped on a different streetcar and huddled at the end as it took them to the station. Silenus was grim and lost in thought, but he looked better than Kingsley, who sat crooked in his seat with one hand gingerly exploring his side. His skin was pale and waxy, and he kept licking his lips and whispering something, as if he was speaking to someone who was not there.

When they were near the station they heard them: first one howl, then two, then many, long, keening cries from somewhere far out in the city.

“Are those wolves I hear?” said one passenger.

“It can’t be,” said a woman. “There are never any wolves so far into town.”

George expected Silenus to say something, but he did not. He simply lifted his eyes and gazed in the direction of the howls, and settled down farther in his seat.

When they got to the train station, Colette and Franny ran to Silenus and began asking questions, while Stanley slowly sauntered up behind them.

“What happened?” asked Colette. “What did you see?”

“Were they there?” Franny asked, frightened. “Were they really waiting for us? Are you all right?”

“We are all fine,” said Silenus. “And I don’t know exactly what we saw there. We’ll discuss all that on the train.”

“You don’t look so good, Kingsley,” said Colette. “Are you hurt?”

Kingsley was still standing crooked with the elbow of one arm held close. His skin had not gained any color, and a cold sweat clung to his cheeks. “No,” he said. “I’m fine. I’ll feel better once we get on the train.”

“Then let’s go,” said Franny. “I have all our tickets ready.” She held them up, and George saw her hands were heavily bandaged. Copper and burgundy stains were spreading through the wool from wounds below.

Colette said, “It was costly, but we’re still under budget, for now.”

“We’ll need one more,” said Silenus. He nodded in George’s direction. “For the boy.”

“The boy?” said Colette. She looked at George, incredulous. “He’s coming with us? Why?”

“Because I have some questions for him,” said Silenus. “Quite a few, actually. And besides, it’s no business of yours, girl.”

“It’s my damn business if it’s my damn budget that’s buying his ticket!” said Colette.

“But you’ve got room in your budget for this, don’t you?” said Silenus. “Isn’t there room for emergencies or some such?”

“I
said
to budget for emergencies, but you told me not to bother!” Colette said. “And we’re already at the limit for train fare!”

“I can pay for myself,” said George. “I have my own money.”

They all looked at him, surprised. “You do?” said Silenus.

“Yes,” said George. He was a little nettled by their disbelieving looks. “In fact, I have plenty of money. I could probably pay for all of your tickets, if I wanted to.” Then he turned around and marched toward the ticket booth with his head held high (despite Silenus’s derisive snort). He was about halfway there before he stopped, turned around, came back, and asked, “By the way—where are we going?”

“To Illinois,” said Franny. “To Alberteen.”

“To the sticks,” said Colette.

“To the next show,” said Silenus to her sharply. She gave him a surly look but did not respond.

George bought his ticket, which was indeed fairly costly, and on his way back over to them he noticed the cellist was standing next to the station benches, watching him. He gave George a little wave and motioned him over.

“Yes?” asked George.

Stanley reached behind a bench, lifted up George’s suitcase, and held it out to him.

“Oh, great!” said George, and took it. “I forgot that I’d left that at the theater! Where did you find it?”

Stanley reached into his coat and took out the blackboard again. He scribbled for a second and turned it around:
HAD FALLEN OPEN BACKSTAGE. REFOLDED YOUR CLOTHES FOR YOU
.

“Oh,” said George. “Well. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Stanley smiled and shrugged.

“What about your luggage? Did you just leave it all at the hotel?”

He began to write again. He wrote astonishingly fast and smoothly. It said:
THAT IS BEING TAKEN CARE OF
.

“Do you not talk?” asked George.

Stanley shook his head again.

“Is it an injury? Or…”

He thought about it, and wrote:
YES. VERY OLD INJURY
.