Harlequin, page 13
“Here... H-here he is,” the clown pointed out, inviting her to open the door.
Nervous, Narah opened it and a strong stench slapped her. Was her brother sleeping there? She covered her nose trying not to gag. Better that than sleeping on the street, she thought.
“C-come on in.”
“Thank you,” she thanked before going upstairs.
The clown went after her and the door closed behind him.
“You’re welcome,” he answered, and this time, without stuttering, without a trace of shyness, without that silly trace with which he had introduced himself, rather a deep, dark tone; a studied tone, a tone that showed that there was no lack in the clown, but rather a duality and evil.
It was in that instant that Narah understood that she had been deceived. She turned slowly, appreciating how her legs were shaking. The clown smiled at her, licking his lips, taking some of his makeup with it, and before the girl could react, the man had pounced on her, beginning to fondle and lick her.
Disgusted and terrified, Narah struggled. She tried to shake him off her, but the clown’s strength was greater than hers. She made the pretense of screaming, and her attacker covered her mouth with one hand while with the other he tore off her dress and searched for her intimate parts under her underwear.
Shaking with panic and teary eyes, Narah bit his hand, thus managing to free herself. The instant she reached the door, the clown, deranged, grabbed her by her hair and returned her to his filthy bed, grabbed her by her arms and made her his, snatching her from her purity.
Tears spilled from Narah’s eyes, feeling stupid for having been fooled in such a stupid way. Ashel would never have fallen into the same trap as she.
She screamed again, desperate, waiting to be heard, and kicked. The clown, tired of having to fight his prey in order to enjoy a little pleasure, grabbed a silver tray and hit the girl on the head, stunning her. Blood flowed from a small gap in the forehead as the clown thrust fresh into the crotch of his prey.
Narah came to herself and kicked the clown with her legs. The man fell backward, lying on the floor like a cockroach. Narah picked up her worn dress and jumped over him with the misfortune that the clown caught her by the foot, put her face down, tearing her dress even more and, placing his hands on the girl’s immaculate butt, began a new onslaught.
The tears did not stop running down Narah’s cheeks. The clown was tearing her inside. Was that going to be her way of dying? She wanted to flee once more, but the attacker again grabbed the silver tray and hit her repeatedly on the head until Narah stopped moving, lying lifeless, her gaze filled with pain.
The clown pulled away from the girl, his face and hands bloody. He tossed the tray away from his side and backed away. He stumbled with his pants down and fell to the floor. He ducked into a corner, scared. He covered his face with his hands and arms, mad, crying. He had killed her, he had killed the girl.
In despair, he tugged at what little hair he had, pulling out strands and wounding himself. He hugged his knees and swayed in madness.
“I have killed her. I have killed her! I am a bad clown. I am a bad clown! Bad, Ryoh, you’re bad. Bad! No, no, NO! I am not bad. I AM NOT BAD!”
He looked at the lifeless body of the girl and heard in the distance the commotion of his company; they were back.
Panicking, the clown got up awkwardly. He pulled up his pants and, tripping over everything, looked for a sack in which he put the body. He slung it over his shoulder, opened the door carefully, and, realizing that no one was around him, headed out into the forest.
23
A
shel stumbled back and forth, somewhat disoriented and feverish. Where was he? Was it all the result of a dream? His feet seemed to levitate, as if they were not his. The cold continued to hit him violently. His lips were very purple and he did not feel his fingers, as if they had already frozen completely. His throat was burning and his nose was very congested.
He stopped in the middle of a little walk-through street and tried to catch his breath. He looked around him for a point that would indicate his location, but he did not recognize anything. Had he ever been there? Was it his city? Of course it was! The nearest town was over twenty miles away, and he had not gone beyond the edge of the forest.
Feeling worse and worse, he ran a hand through his frosty hair and continued on his way. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, wounding himself against the instep. He tore his pants. Warm blood stained the pristine snow.
The boy fell back, sitting up. His eyes closed, gloomy. The fever was increasing and he felt less and less in control of his body.
A nearby commotion made him wake up a bit. He got up barely and leaned against the wall of a building. He looked off into the distance and noticed a group of the most bizarre people walking in his direction. They were dragging a heavy cage with what appeared to be a huge being, with large ears and nose. What was it? He narrowed his eyes and realized that this group of people had changed course.
“No... W-wait,” he murmured, holding out his hand.
Knowing that it was not the most sensible thing in his state, he went after them, needing to know who they were and what they were carrying, why so much joy and what was it that they threw to the air.
He soon found out, when the wind handed him a brochure.
With shaking hands, he brought the news closer to his hazy gaze and his eyes widened. It was a circus! They were advertising the arrival of a circus to the city! The Fantasy Circus of Drec Gutan! “Fantasy at your fingertips.” “The fun you have never had before!” “You won’t regret it!” Were some of the catchphrases that made his heart race.
He looked up, but the circus troupe was no longer there. He looked back at the advertisement. He needed to see it with his own eyes. He had heard so much about that circus that now that it was so close he should visit it and make sure it was as wonderful as the merchants said.
He read some more and found out the premiere date; it would be on Christmas Eve, after the hateful family dinner in which everyone sat around a table laden with food and showed their false affection on a night when everything was perfect.
Ashel did not need to think about it anymore. It was the best option to distract himself after the sham that his parents put up every year. And perhaps, with a little luck, he could find a place for him there. He would show up, ask for work, earn money, and that way he could leave Verno forever and never come back. From time to time he had dreamed that he worked in one, surrounded by each and every one of the wonderful beings that formed it; a place where he fit in, where he was loved, where there were no quarrels or punishments; where, above all, he was free.
Ignoring the signals from his body, urging him to return home as soon as possible, he folded the advertising and, with difficulty, followed the direction of the company. He needed to warm up, get into bed, have something warm, and put wet cloths on his forehead to lower his fever. But, why wait for information?
“Ashel?” A familiar voice called from behind him. “Ashel, is it you?”
On the verge of losing his balance, the boy turned to meet a perplexed Neylan.
“H-hi,” he muttered, appreciating the heavy tongue.
“‘Hi?’ Is that the only thing you can think of to say, Ashel? You are completely frozen! Look at your lips!”
Ashel tried to look at them, but it was impossible. Neylan approached him just as Ashel lost his balance and prevented him from falling. He quickly took his temperature.
“You are boiling! What happened, Ashel? Why do you look so terrible?”
Ashel’s head was spinning. He raised a hand and struck Neylan on the face with it. He had no control over his limbs.
“Are you a goblin?”
“Yes, the kind that live in caves. Ashel!”
The boy asked him for a second before leaning to the right and vomiting what little was in his stomach.
“Slow down, Neylan,” he asked in a lucid moment. “You speak... very fast.” He took a deep breath and pulled the circus poster out of his pocket. “Have you seen? There’s a... a circus in town! I want to go...” The words sounded heavy in his mouth as did his eyelids. “Would you like to go?”
Angry, Neylan snatched the brochure from him, crumpling it like a raisin, and threw it in the middle of the street.
“You can’t go there, Ashel. It is not as pretty as you think. Also, look at you! You’re not okay. You are on the verge of collapse! Come on, stand up; you have to go home.”
Ashel hit him with his hand again, like a dead weight, denying.
“I’m not... I’m not going home. I want to go... to the circus!”
Neylan began to overwhelm himself and to feel his ass frozen.
“Ashel, come on!”
“The circus...”
In despair, Neylan blurted out:
“Ashel, your sister is missing! She went looking for you and has not returned. Nobody knows where she is, and they don’t know where you are either. Everyone is worried!”
“What?” Ashel yelled, pulling away from Neylan. He barely managed to stand up. He looked in all directions, more disoriented. “My sister... Narah! NARAH!”
“Ashel, shut up! Don’t make such a fuss!”
“I have... I have to find her. NARAH!”
The instant he lifted his right foot to walk, his vision clouded completely and he lost consciousness.
24
“A
SHEL!” Neylan paled as the boy’s body slumped. “Ashel, Ashel, wake up!” He shook him, fearing he was dead. “Ashel, please!”
He took his pulse. Luckily, he was not, but if he continued in that state, he did not have the slightest doubt that he would.
What was he doing? Should he take him like this to his house? Should he call someone to help him? He could not leave him in the middle of the street, on his own, to his luck!
“Ashel, wake up. Please!” He slapped him several times, shook him a few more, and there was no effect.
Deciding to act fast, he scooped up the slight body of his friend. He was ready to take him to his house, as soon as possible, but when he turned, a shadow blocked his way.
“Leave him on the ground,” the stranger muttered before pulling back the hood.
Neylan took a step back, startled. He narrowed his gaze, realizing that, although for what it looked like, that was not the real face of a person, but a rather perfect mask. Did he really think that he was going to deceive someone like that?
“I’m sorry, but I have to take him to his house,” he said seriously, placing Ashel’s body in his arms better. “He needs help!”
“Don’t take another step, or you’ll be sorry,” he threatened without hesitation. Neylan held his gaze. “Put him down,” he reiterated.
“Who are you?” He asked, squinting his eyes.
“Put-him-on-the-ground,” the stranger pointed.
A little restless, Neylan did. He did not want trouble. He did not know who that person was, but something told him it was better to obey... for now.
“He is sick! We have to take him to his house! Can’t you see?”
“Stay away from him.”
“What will you do?”
“Haven’t you and your people caused enough damage already?” Neylan blinked in confusion. He did not understand anything. What did he mean by that? “Get away from him,” Amerie demanded, pulling a sharp knife from under her tunic. Neylan obeyed, swallowing hard, “and don’t move.”
This time, Neylan could see from his voice that he was not a man but a woman, the one who hid her face behind a mask.
The girl scooped up Ashel’s body in her arms while still pointing the weapon at Neylan, and she backed away from him.
“Where are you taking him?” Neylan demanded, worrying. “Hey!”
The stranger did not mention anything, and she continued her way.
Heart pounding, Neylan put his hands to his head, restless and impressed. She was taking Ashel away! Why? Who was she? Did she know Ashel? Was she to trust? She covered her face with a mask! Who in their right mind would trust someone who was hiding their identity?
Neylan could not allow her to take his friend, he could not leave him in the hands of a stranger who could turn out to be a psychopath. But she knew about him, about him and the circus! Have they met before? The boy shook his head. He was drifting off topic. The important thing now was Ashel; he had to act as soon as possible.
Holding his breath, he went after the girl, ready to remove her mask; that would make her let go of Ashel so he could take him away from her, to his house or elsewhere. Yet Amerie caught the boy’s intentions out of the corner of her eye and sang in her melodious voice.
The moment Neylan lifted his hand to pull the hair from the mask, the ground parted and a root snaked around his right leg. The boy fell face first into the snow, hitting his nose hard.
Stunned, and feeling the blood pouring from his mouth, it took him a few seconds to position himself. He got to his feet and looked for the stranger, but she was no longer there, neither she nor Ashel: they had disappeared all of a sudden.
“No! NO!” He exclaimed. How had she been so swift? With uncontrolled breathing, he looked away. She had escaped him!
Cursing, he tore off the root of his foot. His brow furrowed thoughtfully. That root had not been there before, that root had not appeared just like that. Something had acted, something that was somewhat familiar. That young woman was hiding something, his sense told him, that sense that he believed was dead. He knew who she was, he knew why she was hiding herself and the reason for her words: she was an elf.
Neylan clenched his fists, staring at the snow. There were too many tracks that made it impossible for him to know which were hers to be able to follow her. Still, he would find her, one way or another.
The she-elf had made a great mistake taking his friend, and it would be the last thing she did, for he would rescue Ashel and she would pay for her daring. His father would be very happy when he led him to the new headliner.
25
W
ith difficulty, Amerie repeatedly knocked on the door of Anto’s house as she looked around fearfully. She hoped no one had seen her, nor still see, or she would be in big trouble.
Once again, she had hidden with the hood trying to pass as unnoticed as possible, and she had run as fast as she could until she reached the old man’s house, so that that hateful boy from the circus would not follow them.
“Come on, Anto! Where are you?”
The moment she was about to hit the wood again, the door opened. Amerie’s fist stopped inches from Anto’s face.
“Amerie?”
“Yes, it’s me! Let me in, please,” she demanded, flustered.
The old man scrutinized her until his gaze stopped on the bundle she held in her arms.
“Oh, Amerie! What have you done?”
Amerie pushed the old man aside and went inside. Russell went over to sniff Ashel as the she-elf covered him with a sheet.
“Please, close the door!” She ordered, scowling.
The old man did so and approached the boy, concerned. He touched his hand and withdrew it in alarm.
“Is he...?”
“No, he’s not; he’s just almost frozen,” she explained quickly. She pulled away from Ashel and removed her mask.
“But... what has ..?”
“I haven’t laid a finger on him, Anto!” The she-elf said upset, seized with a horrible burden. She pushed the table away to the side, laying the mask on it with the greatest possible delicacy that the situation allowed, and pushed the sofa as close to the fireplace as possible. “I found him like this in the middle of the street, and he needs help. I couldn’t leave him. If we don’t help him, he will die.”
Anto could appreciate how worried Amerie was.
“We will help him, Amerie; be calm,” he assured her, trying to ease her down. “Do you know what has happened to him?”
Amerie shook her head.
“I do not know. The last time I saw him was yesterday in the forest, when... when my mask broke...” Anto looked up at her, realizing what had happened to the previous mask and she realized that, finally, the lies had no good ending.
Amerie put both hands on the boy’s head. It had been a long time since she had used her power for fear that it would no longer have the same effect as in the beginning, but by trying she did not lose anything. When her mind filled with images from Ashel’s past, she raised her hands to her mouth in anguish.
“He... He spent the whole night in the forest, under a tree! First the rain, then the snow fell on him, and he didn’t even flinch! I don’t know why he did something like that, I can’t even get used to the idea. It’s nonsense!”
“Did you find him like this already?” Anto needed to know, not wanting to inquire into what Amerie just discovered with her hands.
She hesitated.
“No... No, like I told you, he was in the street, on the snow. He had collapsed,” she lied again, hiding details.
“But what about his family? I guess he has one.” Anto walked over to Amerie.
“Yes, he does, but it’s not his real family,” she explained hastily. How would she tell him that he was the elf that she had saved the fateful night of his birth, the same one that she had abandoned in the street and that deep down she believed it was impossible that he could have survived?
She had searched for him all over Verno for years and she had not found him until a few nights ago a melody reached her ears. She followed it and saw him, on the roof of his house. The melody came from the flute he played. Magic floated around him. There he was, safe and sound.
When she saw him in the forest, fear clenched her muscles. She had been looking for him for a long time, yes, but the fact of having him face to face, had stopped her, because of her he could be dead. She had been a child when she left him, what else could she do? Despite that, night after night she tortured herself for having failed her mother, her kings and the defenseless baby.
