I spent the next few days alone on the street, utilizing the alleys to the best of my abilities, but saving my next kill. I used water from dripping pipes to clean my dress from the blood, and after I did some "intimate favors" for a few rich men who threw around money like a plaything, I had enough money to stay in a dirty boarding house for a week and scrape up enough food to survive. By then I had drawn up a plan in my mind, and I left the boarding house late on a Thursday evening, when a proper lady shouldn't walk the streets, accompanied by the sounds of horse hooves on cobblestone and hacking coughs from the poor and the scents of smoke, horse feces, ice, and human stink. But I kept my head low, as I was taught as a little girl, and went right to my destination blocks away – the Red Lion Bar.
Opening the door to the Red Lion, I was hit by a wave of warmth and the smell of stale beer. I knew it was safe to come to this bar late at night, because now the only men in it were falling-over drunk, not able to cast poisonous glares at a female entering a man's place; the bartender was also a kind old man whose face was wrinkled as a walnut, and his name was Thom – he always gave me free drinks, saying they were on the house for such a "pretty lady," even if this pretty lady took the hard stuff. But I wasn't here for the good atmosphere or the nice bartender tonight – tonight I was here for reasons of my own.
"Well hullo, Ms. Giry," Thom grinned, pulling out a clean mug for me. "Long time no see! What'll you have, dear?"
I beamed back and folded my hands together chastely – Thom always reminded me of a nice old grandfather, despite him having more physical similarities to a walnut. "I am not here for drinks tonight, Thom, though I thank you. I'm not here for pleasure," I said. "Strictly business. I assume your regular three are here tonight?"
Thom put away the mug. "Why yes, love. They're in the back room, if you'd like to see them." He handed me a little brass key.
Nodding my thanks, I walked to the back of the dirty bar and into a thin hallway where a door sat at the end of it. Putting the brass key into the keyhole, I unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a tight spiral staircase that wound downwards. Hiking up my skirts, I went down the stairs, the metal clanging underneath my worn shoe heels.
The staircase led down at least one story into a small storage room filled with giant barrels of wine sitting comfortably in their wooden stands. I saw the soft, golden glow of candlelight and heard snickers and mindless chatter and knew my helpers were here.
At the back of the storage room, three people sat on a large cask of wine, lit by their dripping wax candle, and I recognized them as circus people. They were Fleck, the female dwarf, Squelch, the strongman clown, and Gangle, the long-legged circus barker, and they were all lounging on the barrel easily, holding a conversation and taking swigs of their drinks, all good friends. I stepped into their sights.
"Perhaps people so full of alcohol should not be relaxing so close to an open flame," I commented, my lips twitching up into a grin. The three looked at me through blurry eyes, but I knew they were all competent enough to know what occurred around them. Squelch gave a laughing bellow, followed by the chorus of amusement from the others.
"Meggie, Meggie, queen of the stage!" Fleck giggled, letting big Squelch help her down off the barrel so she could stand before me. "How is our dearest Ooh-La-La Girl?"
I surprised my anger at that title that reminded me of my risqué shows, and kept smiling, staying to my good-natured self. "Excellent," I answered. "I've missed you, friends."
"And we, you," Gangle grinned, hopping down and landing on his of lengthy legs; he removed his ever-present top hat to reveal a shining-bald head. "What may we do for you, our best girl?"
I casually leaned against a barrel, twirling a blonde lock that had come free from my tied-back hair around my index finger. "I have been needing some – supplies," I told them, making my lower lip subtly pouty. "For – an act I'd like to put on."
"Oh, an act!" Squelch exclaimed excitedly, rolling off his perch like a ball. "Tell us, Meggie! We're all ears!"
"Well, it's a surprise," I explained nonchalantly, lies rolling off my tongue like butter – well they weren't really lies, were they? It was an act, and a surprise one too!
"We love surprises!" Fleck cried out, jumping up and down in her elf shoes. "What do you need us to do, dearie?"
"We will do it in three parts, then," I replied, feeling the business wheels clicking in my mind. "I will need all of you to help me. First, I need my props. Shall I meet you tomorrow at Phantasma, hm, around seven in the afternoon?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Fleck grinned, clapping her hand. "Oh, we will meet you there, and get you your fabulous props!"
"Perfect," I said. "I must take my leave now, friends – it was good to see you." I grinned, patting Gangle's shoulder and gazing fondly at Fleck and Squelch, who looked on like intrigued children. "Meet me tomorrow, and do be sober!"
Squelch chuckled. "We will try, Meggie! Though we can't promise you anything!"
I left the small room, waving goodbye, trying to stop myself from bursting with happiness. Who cared if they were sober or not? All I needed was the key, not the company.
As I left, I put a dollar on the bar for Thom and exited into the snowy night back to my boarding house.
The next day I trekked down to Phantasma and met my three circus friends at the back door. Squelch had bags under his eyes and held a cold cut of meat to his forehead, moaning.
"Too much wine?" I asked, knocking on his head and making him groan again. "Well, you didn't promise me anything."
Gangle laughed and drew a ring of skeleton keys from his pocket. "Come, inside, Meggie, and let's see what props we can give you!" He unlocked the door and led us inside, carrying Fleck on his shoulders.
We went through the backstage area of Phantasma, and into the props room where I felt myself shiver with excitement. All along the walls were stacks of anything and everything – cups, chairs, hand mirrors, fans, stuffed animals, toy balls, etc. But I soon moved over to the section that called me closer – the weapon arsenal. They glittered in my eyes, bright as jewels, all real, all useable, all deadly. I picked up a whip and feathered the tip of it, then selected a machete and swung it around experimentally, testing how heavy it was.
"What is this act you wish to put on?" Gangle asked, looking at a fake bouquet of flowers that stuck out from the props pile.
"It is a dangerous one," I answered. "Frightening, amazing. Exhilarating. And requiring a few weapons." As the circus freaks talked amongst themselves, I reached out and found my weapon – a knife, complete with leather hilt. The dagger was eight inches long, new, and sharp. I pressed the blade into the pad of my thumb and instantly a raisin-black bead of blood freed itself from my skin.
"This will do," I said. "But something is missing." I turned and looked to see Squelch running around Fleck, tying her up jokingly with a long strand of stage rope. Stepping forward, I untangled Fleck and raised up the rope to the light.
"Good," I said, wrapping the rope around itself until I had formed a noose. "Now I have all the props I need."
"A rope?" Fleck giggled. "What will you use that for?"
"Naughty things," answered Squelch, earning him a slap from his female companion.
"This would look good in red," I said, beholding the noose rope; I exited the prop room, leaving my circus friends behind. Gangle stuck his head out of the room, holding a checkered umbrella by its handle – when it popped open, rain-colored sequins rained down on his head.
"What, you mean dye it red?" he called after me. "With paint?"
I didn't answer him, because I didn't plan to redden it with paint.