Out Of The Shadows
Chapter Five:
The Child of the Feather
'Fun' wasn't exactly what Imoen wanted right now. After all that had happened, losing Dynaheir and Khalid, she wasn't yet in the mood to start enjoying herself. But after being in that prison for... she had no idea how long. For all she knew people outside would be wearing silver suits and instead of walking they got around in floating armchairs. There were a few speculative books she'd read in Candlekeep about what life would be like in the future, and it seemed that what everyone considered to be the absolute zenith of all technological and magical achievement was making things float in the air; people, armchairs, houses, horses, pets... although she was reasonably certain that much time hadn't passed yet and most things were still bound by gravity. In any case, after being in that stinking sewer so long she wanted to get outside into the fresh air and clear her head.
However her question, 'what do you do for fun around here', seemed to have the blonde haired Elf, Aerie, stumped.
"This is a Circus, right?" Imoen dimly remembered tents and noted the posters on the wall. "There must be lots of fun stuff. The whole point of a Circus is for people to have fun; people come here to forget all the boring and bad stuff in their lives."
"Maybe they do," Aerie said, clearly a little bit disturbed by what Imoen had said. "But, I-I have to work here. T-that gets rather... boring. I'm afraid I don't really have much fun."
"So, what do you do when you want to relax?" Imoen asked; she was already forgetting her own desire to be out and about and becoming more and more interested in the Elf.
She wasn't sure what to make of Aerie. The Elf was very pretty, with her long fair hair and fair skin and big blue eyes... very big eyes in fact. The biggest eyes Imoen had ever seen, at least twice the size of her own grey ones. But as well as being very pretty, Aerie was also very nice, clearly; she had sat through all of Imoen's life story and managed to feign interest throughout. Being both very nice and very pretty would be grounds enough for most people to despise Aerie, as such a combination would be seen as totally unfair, but it actually got worse. Aerie was pretty and nice, and she was smart too.
What the Elf had done to diagnose and then 'cure' Imoen; that took more than just a really good knowledge of magic and theories. Imoen had such knowledge too; with Dynaheir she had learned to cast spells, memorising pages of words and gestures from old scrolls and spell books that had been written down centuries ago and tried and tested many, many times since. Imoen was extremely good at remembering and at working out quantities of whatever alchemical material might be required for a spell to work. But it was all a rather mechanical process. If you asked her to invent a whole new spell in five minutes utilizing only the meagre resources available in this caravan... she couldn't do that. That required a brain that was not only able to store an impressive amount of knowledge but had the wisdom or intuition to be able to use that knowledge and to see connections between things that people never knew were connected before.
Imoen got the feeling though that most people who met Aerie never realised how smart she really was. Lots of the really clever people Imoen had known throughout her life were not exactly rousing public speakers, but she got the feeling that there was more going on with Aerie than her just being an introverted book worm type. Imoen, however, wasn't in the habit of making assumptions about people and was of the opinion that whenever you really got to know and understand someone you couldn't help but like them. Well, maybe not some people... like Irenicus. But Aerie was nice and hadn't imprisoned or tortured her, and those were the most important things.
"Ehm... u-u-usually when I finish my chores for the day, I just come back here to study and read my books," the Elf explained.
"Well that doesn't sound like fun," Imoen said curtly. The Elf slowly looked up, eyes slowly widening in shocked horror.
"Oh, but b-books are fascinating, a-and exciting and fun," Aerie said, opening her chest of books in order to refute Imoen's claim. "T-this one is a map of the entire world," she handed the thick heavy tome over to Imoen who randomly flipped through some of the pages.
"Here be beasties... here be beasties. And, what's over here? Ahh... beasties. Pretty accurate map, I'd say."
"Heh," Aerie giggled. Imoen noticed quite a change in her, now that she was talking about her books. She suddenly became a lot brighter and was starting to look and sound more confident. Imoen knelt beside the Elf, nodding and smiling as the blonde handed her one book after another and explained what they were. "This one tells you about all the creatures that live around The Sword Coast, and this one has detailed drawings of all sorts of things Gnomes and other people have invented. This one is about the language of Bee's... I've not really had much use for that, but it's interesting. And this one is one of my favourite stories about these adventurers who discover a long lost land ruled over by a race of intelligent Guinea Pigs who make Elves and Humans run through dangerous mazes all the time."
Aerie's chest of books wasn't quite Candlekeep, but it was still an impressive and varied collection for someone who lived in a caravan. Imoen used to love reading when she was much younger; when she was a little bit older though she rebelled a little against all those stuffy old monks who tried forcing her to read every day. She'd had more important things to do, like chasing boys around with a bit of slime in a jar. She didn't get why the monks swallowed absolutely everything that was written down in ancient tomes, like you just couldn't argue with them because they were books, and they were old. There's no way you can argue with an old book; they've got to be right because they were written a really long time ago. They're old books, see?
Still, despite all that ever so subtle irony, Imoen did come to realise that there was valuable knowledge in some books, even old ones. About the time she realised that her dinky dagger wasn't a great weapon for taking on Wyverns with and she started to learn magic from Dynaheir, so that she wouldn't be completely useless to all her friends in a fight anymore... although she still hadn't been able to help Dynaheir much, had she?
"What's that one?" Imoen shook her head, trying not to think too much about the old and about the new instead. She pointed out what looked to be a more recently published book in Aerie's collection.
"Heh... Chiktikka Fastpaws stories," Aerie said with a soft smile, "U-uncle Quayle wrote them down for me."
"That mischievous little Raccoon who hangs around with Baervan Wildwanderer?" Imoen remembered studying her faith's and pantheons. The name 'Quayle' rang a bell too, but she didn't ask about it. Probably lots of Quayles in the world, after all. "Gnomish God of travel and nature, right? Why's an Elf care about those?"
"A-an Elf can't have an interest in things that aren't elven? I-I think there are things all the races can learn from eachother," Aerie shrugged, "b-besides, Quayle used to tell me these Fastpaw's stories when I was... hm, w-when I was sad. I know they're for children, really, b-but they still cheer me up, sometimes. I-I like the way Chiktikka is always teasing and playing tricks on all the Gods and always having fun. Hehe... I think my favourite was the time he gave Talos wind by tricking him into eating a rotten egg."
Imoen noticed the little twinkle in Aerie's eye as she recounted some of Chiktikka Fastpaw's mischief... there was hope for this one, she thought. She suddenly saw Aerie as a bold and adventurous little girl. Something must have happened to change her... make her subservient and conforming. But there was still a spark left; it just needed to be nourished.
"You're right, Aerrers," Imoen said, quickly standing up again, "books are really, really great. What I meant was though is that it's not fun you can have with other people. You forgotten you got a guest here? What am I supposed to do while you've got your nose stuck in those, you gudgeon?"
"I'm sorry," Aerie sagged and sighed slightly, "I-I'm not used to having guests."
"Yeah... you somehow didn't strike me as the type to host dinner parties."
"B-besides myself and Quayle, y-you're the only person who has ever been in here... well, t-there was a man who came in once, b-by accident I think. I think he was a builder... he asked me if he could leave his really big tool in my box. Although I don't remember him carrying anything, or any building going on outside... "
"Right," Imoen blinked; she couldn't tell if Aerie was joking or not. She hoped to the heavens that she was. "We'll... talk about that later."
"Uncle Quayle made him leave, anyway."
"Who's this 'Uncle Quayle'?"
"Oh... h-he said he knew you. That you'd gone to explore Durlag's Tower together."
"Hmm... old Gnome, wears eyeglasses, claims he was the first person in history to learn how to walk?" Imoen remembered him. She didn't remember him saying he had an adopted niece, but then Quayle seemed rather typical of a lot of Gnomes; a genius in many ways, but a little bit scatter minded and eccentric.
"Heh... yes, that does sound like him."
"It's great we don't slither around on our bellies anymore, but how is he your 'Uncle'?"
"We're not really related, of course, but he's taken care of me for a while and so I just call him my uncle. He seems to like it, I-I guess because he doesn't have any real family."
"What about your family? Where are they?"
"They're," Aerie paused, closing her eyes as if trying to picture something but the image seemed to trouble her. "T-they're far away."
"I'm sorry," Imoen knelt beside the Elf again, seeing the sadness in her eyes. She placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Did... did you lose them?"
"No... i-it's not like that," Aerie shook her head, "I... I know where they are, roughly. They're alive, I think. But I... I can't go back there."
"Why not?"
Aerie opened her eyes and scrutinised Imoen very carefully for a moment; no doubt trying to decide whether or not to trust her.
"I suppose... you told me eveything, so I-I should tell you where I'm from" Aerie spoke at last, slowly nodding her head as she made her decision. "I'm Avariel... a-a winged elf," she announced, and then quickly wiltered under Imoen's stare. She probably thought that Imoen doubted her, but in fact the redhead had suddenly remembered something someone else had said...
"The child of the feather..." Imoen whispered. But... no. It had to be a coincidence, didn't it? There was no way Tenya could really have seen the future in the guts of a rotten fish.
"I... I-I suppose you want to know what happened to my wings?" Aerie sighed resignedly.
"Well... I guess that is kind of the next logical question, yeah."
"They were cut off... a-a long time ago. I-I was captured and brought here by slavers. They kept me locked in a tiny cage where I could hardly move, even if I wanted to. My wings became infected... t-they had to be amputated or they would have killed me. And, well, t-that's what happened to them."
"I... I read about Avariel before," Imoen said, "I didn't think they actually existed."
"I'm one, so we do... a-at least, I know I exist, anyway. I remember flying over the mountains with the whole world rolled out beneath me... s-sometimes now I do worry that it might have all just been a dream. B-but it is true... y-you can ask Quayle if you want, or any of the others that work in the circus. Anyway," Aerie folded her arms, "i-its no more ridiculous than your story."
"No, I guess not," the redhead laughed. Aerie was already getting more comfortable talking to Imoen, it seemed, and the Elf, or Avariel, made a lot more sense to Imoen now. Slavers; she'd heard Jaheira tell stories of what she and other Harpers had found when they'd raided slaver camps before, the methods they used there to make slaves compliant. They tried to shock people into conformity, by basically traumatising all their sense of self out of them. Rather like a soldiers training camp, only there were no restraints on the methods of torture used and no one had the option of dropping out, unless it was dropping out dead.
Aerie seemed so... so soft, and gentle that it was hard to imagine her living through all that. Maybe a part of Imoen didn't want to believe that there were people capable of inflicting such cruelty on others. But she knew better; there were people not only capable, but eager and willing to.
"So is there no way for you to get them back? Your wings, I mean," Imoen asked.
"I... I-I've discussed it with Quayle many times, but... there doesn't seem to be any way," the blonde shook her head. "An Avariel's wings are a gift from our Goddess, and she only ever gives them once, it seems, s-so if we don't take care of them... she... she's hardly going to break the rules for me."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I-it's no one's fault, really, apart from my own. My parents always made me promise never to fly too far away from the city, b-because it would be dangerous on my own. I... I never listened."
"Well... you were a kid, weren't you?"
"That's precisely why I should have listened to them."
Well, maybe Aerie did have a point there, although clearly the slave traders and circus owners were a little bit responsible for what they did as well. Imoen suspected though that Aerie had spent a while convincing herself that she was actually the one responsible for everything. It was a neat way of coping, wasn't it? Making yourself believe, despite all of the facts, that you could have done something that would have changed the situation; that you still had control in some way. That's what she had been doing... but Aerie had been at it too long to have her mind changed about it right now.
"Anyway, why don't we go outside?" Imoen smiled softly, putting an arm round her new friend's shoulders. "You can show me around this circus of yours."
"It's really not my circus," Aerie said, "I can show you around though. But, i-is it safe? For you, I mean."
"I think so. Irenicus is gone, and those other fellas that attacked him got their butts pretty badly kicked. Only people who might still be looking for me are Minsc and Jaheira. She might knock me out again, but I doubt she'd hurt me any more than that... probably," in truth, Imoen was hoping to see the druid again, although she had no idea what she would say if she did. Sorry that she'd been stupid and ran away, she supposed. She supposed she wouldn't blame Jaheira either if she didn't blame her for Khalid, and had just left on her own. But she wanted air. She would have liked a bath too, but she doubted Aerie had a whole lot of luxuries like that. "C'mon kid, let's see what's out there."
It was a nice day, still. The sun would be starting to set soon, but for now it was still bright and it's rays reflecting off the white stone of The Promenade; according to Aerie an ancient coliseum that had been retrofitted to serve the Amnish people's love of coin. There were market stalls and shops set up beneath the steps, and also, for the time being at least, several circus tents and wagons. That was a lot of activity; people carrying things to and fro, large and small animals chattering, braying and trumpeting. The Circus people were busy preparing for a show that night. Aerie said it was best not to disturb any of them while they were rehearsing and getting things ready; they tended to get a bit tetchy at this time. There was no sign of Jaheira, or Minsc and he was usually pretty easy to spot even when he was being stealthy like a crab. So she supposed they must have left to ensure those wizards had disposed of Irenicus properly.
But that was all fine. Imoen just wanted to stretch her legs, inhaling the refreshing, cool air. Okay, so in a city like this the air was never all that fresh, with waste littering the streets and the nearby river polluted with it as well. She wondered sometimes if it was really a good idea in these modern cities for people to drink the same water they dumped their rubbish into. But compared to actually being in a sewer, this was nice. Eventually though, she couldn't resist the lure of some of the stalls and games set up outside.
"You sure those coconuts aren't nailed on?" Imoen inquired of Aerie after a disappointing performance. They'd stopped to rest a short distance from the coconut stand, sitting upon the ground.
"I-I'm pretty sure," the Elf shrugged, "t-to be honest, I'm not really involved in setting these games up that often. I suppose you can't make them too easy. Y-you want people to win just often enough so that they keep spending more... s-same as in the gambling tent."
That made sense, Imoen supposed. Anyway, she had a string of luck on all the other games, like Whack-An-Imp. Wasn't much fun for the Imp as it had failed to avoid all her hammer blows, but she'd got a toffee apple out of it. Really a case of no pain, no gain. She'd also won a huge stuffed bear which she decided to call Donald, avoiding any of the really cliché and obvious stuff.
"There was a small Circus that came to Candlekeep once, when I was small," Imoen reminisced. "They had a Sea Lion that would do all these little tricks, like balance a ball on it's nose, jump through hoops, clap it's flippers and play the trumpet. You got a Sea Lion?"
"Er... n-no."
"Good. It seemed funny at the time but, showing that stuff to little kids can give them some pretty dangerously misleading ideas about what those animals are like, if you ask me. I've seen Sea Lions in the wild; they're really not friendly at all. They're very aggressive and territorial. You show up on their beach with a trumpet they'll clap their flippers alright... right around your skull, which they'll then sit on until you stop wriggling."
"Have you had a bad experience with Sea Lions?"
"I got chased over some rocks by a whole bunch of them once. It... it was pretty scary."
"I see," Aerie stepped closer, putting a hand gently on Imoen's shoulder. "Did... d-did they hurt you?"
"It's not funny, Aerie. A whole raft of Sea Lion's almost raped me," suddenly it all made Imoen genuinely feel quite bitter. Not just the Sea Lion incident, but everything... everything she'd been told her whole life was just a big pile of... pooh. "It's... just not right to lie to children."
Imoen pulled her knees in close to her chest and hid her head as a wave of sadness suddenly swept over her. She supposed she hadn't had a chance to be sad before now; she'd been too busy running for her life and then trying to get her bearings around here. But now she thought about Dynaheir; she'd been a bit like Aerie, in that she loved her books and was fascinated by absolutely everything. She believed that the more she learnt about the world, the better she would become. Maybe all Rashemi withes believed that and that was the point of the Dajemma – a journey they underwent to discover and prove themselves. Now she was never going home either. And Khalid; he'd took her around the Circus in Nashkell once. Bought her a load of stuff too, which really annoyed Jaheira who was of the opinion that at twenty years old Imoen was an adult, the old fussypants. It was like having one parent who was really strict and one who was a complete pushover; clearly the later was the one you went to whenever you wanted something, like pocket money. But Khalid would have protected her with his life. He did, and she just... and then all the other people she was never going to see again. Winthrop, Gorion... almost every person she had grown up with.
"Um... a-re you... are you okay?" Aerie leant forward, so that she was resting on her palms.
"Hey... don't worry about little old me. I'm fine," Imoen looked around, winking and grinning. But, judging by Aerie's face, the red rings beneath Imoen's wet eyes probably gave away what she had really been doing. The Elf looked sympathetic though. She had to be, of course. Imoen didn't know exactly what experiences Aerie had been put through by slavers and her masters here, but she knew enough to know that none of it would have been pleasant. And for an Avariel to lose her wings, her freedom and whole identity, and be cut off from her home and family... that had to be tough, too. Imoen realised she didn't have to put on any brave or happy face for Aerie's sake. She wasn't going to judge or make fun of her for showing a little weakness.
"Okay... that was a lie," the redhead admitted, "I'm not fine at all. I'm actually feeling pretty miserable."
"That's alright," Aerie straightened up, joining the ends of her fingers together. "You... you m-might find it hard to believe, but I get very sad sometimes too."
"Really?" Imoen said in mock surprise. The Elf smiled slightly.
"It's usually when I start thinking about my home and my parents, a-and them still being out there, somewhere. Sometimes I wish I could fly back to my mother's arms and, f-for everything to be like it was when I was a child."
"When I was a child," Imoen rubbed a bit under her eyes, "I was told I'd have a floating armchair and a flying bed by now... still waiting for those though. They also told me there were no really bad people, everyone was good inside, your friends will be your friends forever, and nature was filled with little animals just frolicking around in the woods having fun all the time. None of that was true. They're always fighting and killing, struggling for survival, sometimes even eating their own babies. Animals have it pretty rough sometimes as well. And then when you grow up all your friends either die or leave you... even so, I wish I was back home, in Candlekeep, with old Puffguts. I wouldn't go sneaking off again, either. I'd make all the beds, clean all the rooms properly, not hide anything under any of the rugs... I just... I want to believe it all again. I want to go back to when one summer lasted about a thousand years and the whole nasty rest of the world stayed out here."
"It... i-it can't all be bad," Aerie said, a little bit pleadingly. Poor thing probably hadn't seen much outside The Circus, and was desperate to believe there had to be something better. There wasn't. "There must be... m-must be something in the world that's... good..."
"Like what?"
"Like..." the Elf thought very hard for a moment. Imoen could almost see some tiny running around behind her blue eyes desperately trying to find some slither of hope to hold on to. And then it stopped, clearly believing it had found something. "L-like Bees."
"Oh, yes... Bees. I love it when they sting people to death."
"But, d-did you know that Bee's have their own language? W-when one of them finds food i-it can go back to the hive and tell the others about by doing a dance about it. Isn't that amazing?"
"It's... quite interesting, I suppose," Imoen said, although still not entirely convinced.
"I think it's amazing. I-I think there must be lots of wonderful, amazing things like that in the world, w-waiting for us to find out about them."
"So, how's this Bee dance go?"
"Oh... well," Aerie glanced side to side, making sure no one else was looking and then stood up. "T-they waggle, like this," she said with a wide smile as she leant forward and wiggled her bum. "A-and then they go round in little figure-eight motions like this," the Elf demonstrated by tucking in her arms and using just her hands to simulate the Bee's wings as she went round a few times. "You see?"
"I see you're wasted behind the scenes here," Imoen sniggered, "and I guess you had a use for that book after all, huh?"
"I... I-I don't know," Aerie said, sitting down again. "D-did it work?"
"Well... I'm still not as enamoured with the Bee's as you clearly are," the redhead beamed at the Elf, "but I guess if I'd never left Candlekeep, I'd have never seen you do that. Maybe the whole world isn't so nasty... I'll give it another chance."
"Good," the Elf was a little red, "because, i-it was embarrassing. I'd hate have to have done it for nothing."
"Awww, no. I am definitely going to copy that dance, and I'll expect you do it with me. But what about you, Aerie?" Imoen asked. The Elf looked up, confused.
"What... w-what about me?"
"What do you do here in the Circus?"
"Well... j-just little chores here and there, really. Tidying up, making sure the animals are fed and clean, and any other little thing that needs doing. S-sometimes I help Quayle to invent new tricks for the show... t-that's probably the most fun thing I do."
"But you feel like you're wasted."
"I... didn't say that, did I?"
"You didn't have to. It's natural enough; you are really smart, and a very good mage and healer. Of course you don't want to spend your whole life just tidying. You helped me, so you might be able to help lots of other people who need help too. And you've got books, and maps, but you don't just want to look at them. You want to go to the places on the map, and maybe places that aren't, find long lost lands, and maybe actually talk to some of the Bees. Does this all sound about right to you?"
"A... a-about right, yes," Aerie deflated herself.
"So why don't you do it?"
"I've... never left The Circus before. E-even though you say I'm 'smart', I-I just wouldn't know how to begin doing all that."
"I guess that is a problem," Imoen thought, although she didn't have to think for long. Tenya's words about the 'child of the feather' were still there, nibbling away. More importantly though, she really liked Aerie, and really wanted to do everything she could to help. "Come with me, then."
"What?" Aerie went wide with surprise. "R-really?"
"Sure. I mean, I'm pretty new around here too, but I'm sure together we could find our way around and see a few amazing and wonderful things."
"Oh... I... I-I'd love to. And Bentha did say... oh, b-but," the Elf's spirits were lifted for a second, but then they dropped down again. "Uncle Quayle would never let me go."
"So? You're a grown up... sort of. Just tell him you're leaving."
"I... I-I can't do that. He's been so good to me... i-if it wasn't for him there's no way I could even be thinking about leaving now. A-and, like I said before, he doesn't have any real family. He wants to pass everything onto me."
"Look, Aerie, making other people happy, that's a noble thing to try and do. But, if Quayle cared as much about you as you do about him, then don't you think he'd be happier if you were happy, and not spending the rest of your life doing something you obviously hate? You've got to tell him what you really want."
"Have you ever tried talking to my Uncle?" Aerie sighed. "H-he is a kind person, but he only hears things he wants to hear."
"Yeah, I remember. But, we can make him listen. C'mon, I'll help if you want. We'll tie his ears back if we have to and speak right into them using some kind of... trumpet like device. Actually, that's a terrible idea. Forget that one. But we will find a way."
"Not now," Aerie said, "w-we should wait until after the show... oh," she looked like she'd just remembered something. "It'll be starting soon... t-there's something I should check, just in case he forgot."
Imoen was just getting up to follow Aerie, when the two of them jumped in response to a thunderous bang that appeared to emanate from not very far away. They looked at each other's surprised and worried face, then moved hastily, yet cautiously, in the direction they perceived the noise had come from. It was the stink they encountered first, like rotting reptile flesh, and then noxious green vapours. It was centred around a fenced off area behind all the circus tents. Ducking behind some boxes, Imoen could see Quayle a short distance away. It was indeed the same Gnome she had travelled with before, and he was standing next to several other men, one of them wearing a long red coat; Imoen assumed he was the man in charge, or the ringmaster.
The centre of everyone's attention, however, seemed to be a much younger Gnome with black hair and a purple wizard's robe. This one didn't have the big nose or ears that were usually associated with these eccentric little folk, but in fact just like Halflings resembled half-size Humans, Gnome's resembled miniature Elves. It was just that the smaller species aged gradually throughout the many centuries that they lived. This particular Gnome wasn't much older than Imoen, relatively speaking anyway.
"Kalah," Aerie said, as if that were all the explanation that were needed.
"Well, that didn't exactly go according to plan, did it?" The Ringmaster said, waving his hand in front of his face to try and clear the air he needed to speak. Quayle held out his arms and began to chant, and seconds later the vapour appeared to get blown away by a sweet smelling breeze. "You had better not do that tonight," furious faces still encircled the young Gnome who stood as stiff as a blank with his face turned away from them. "We're supposed to be trying to fill all the seats, not fumigate them."
"Poor Kalah," Aerie said as she stepped out from the hiding place with Imoen, "h-he's been trying to learn magic for a long time. I-I think all the men in his family have been great magicians. The trouble... the trouble is, h-he's just got no talent for it."
"You got one more chance to impress me, Kalah," the Ringmaster said, a touch wearily. "Please don't burn down the whole Promenade.
"Fine," the young Gnome hissed, leaping eagerly behind a small table. "Prepare to be amazed, fools!"
"He's got to work on his catchphrases," Imoen said aside to Aerie.
In front of Kalah was a tin, into which he started tipping lots of rubbish, like some old pants and shoelaces and bits of paper, a boot, a knight's gauntlet...
"This is pretty easy to do," Imoen said, "he's just going to say some magic words and all that junk will turn into a nice sponge cake, right?"
"That's what's supposed to happen," Aerie said, covering her eyes.
Kalah said the magic words, and there was a little puff of magic... only, it was more than a puff. It was more like a Dragon sneezing out of a chimney. A huge plume of smoke and soot shot up from the tin, blasting Kalah back. He landed on his bum, completely blackened and stunned while everyone else, apart from Quayle and Aerie, began to point and laugh. And there was no cake anywhere, which was the thing that most disappointed Imoen.
"N... n-no," Kalah blinked as his head slowly pivoted. "That... that wasn't supposed to happen! Stop laughing!" He starting demanding; he might have been turning red but it was impossible to say for sure with all the soot covering him, but it was very clear that his eyes bulged when they came to rest on Quayle. "You! You did this! You... you sabotaged it somehow!"
"No, Kalah," Quayle sadly shook his head, "you've just got to keep practising, young man. We'll... we'll find something you can do, I'm sure."
"For tonight, you'll be Quayle's assistant, as usual," the Ringmaster said, "what am I saying? You'll always just be the assistant. Just keep doing exactly what he says and for the love of life, never try to do any magic again."
Kalah fell silent, staring miserably at his feet while the Ringmaster walked away. His obvious self-pity and annoyance only seemed to be encourage more laughter from those that remained; Imoen guessed that was the only reason they had gathered to see Kalah perform magic. The poor young Gnome was the only one not in on the joke. Only Quayle and Aerie seemed to feel the slightest bit sorry for him, the Avariel picking up a cloth and kneeling beside him to wipe the soot from his face.
"Y-you've just got to try and forget about everyone else," the blonde said, trying to smile encouragingly. "J-just focus on the spell..."
"Shut up!" Kalah screeched suddenly, pushing Aerie away and leaping up, wagging his finger accusingly at everyone. "You... you're all beasts! All of you! And you," his finger wagged towards Aerie, now lying on her back staring up at him in astonishment. "You're the worst beast of all, always pretending that you care. But it's lies! All lies! All... all my life... people laughed," he panted, slowly running out of steam. "Bah!" He stormed away, feet pounding heavily on the ground as he did, which was an impressive feat for someone only three and a half feet tall.
"What was that all about?" Imoen offered a hand to Aerie, pulling the Elf to her feet. With the 'show' over most of the rest of the crowd began to disperse and get back to whatever chores they had been doing before.
"H-he knows Quayle has been teaching magic to me," the blonde explained, "I...I-I guess it makes him jealous."
Imoen wasn't so sure; what she'd seen in that Gnomes didn't seem like it was mere jealously. It was more like hate. She supposed he was just angry that it had all gone so badly wrong.
"Well, is that young Imoen I see?" Quayle peered through his spectacles. The redhead turned to him with a broad grin, holding out her arms.
"How've you been, you old coot?" She greeted him. "You never told us you worked for any circus."
"Oh? I was sure I must have mentioned it. Or maybe I was too distracted by the geese dropping bombs on us. I must say I was hardly expecting to see you up and about so soon."
"Well, luckily there was a brilliant healer nearby."
"Oh... that's very nice of you to say," Quayle turned away shyly, "I don't remember really doing anything."
"Er... you didn't. I was talking about Aerie."
"Well, I taught her everything I know, so, you're welcome."
"Good to see you're still such a modest, humble old man, never taking credit for other people's work. Did you tell her about the time you invented horses?"
"Around the same time I invented sarcasm. Anyway, we clearly have a lot to catch up on but I'm afraid I have a lot of things to prepare. I'm sure Aerie will keep taking care of you until after tonight's show. We'll be able to talk more then."
Lurking in the shadows a short distance away, Kalah finished clearing the soot from his face as he glared at the wretched fool Quayle waving goodbye to that deceitful Aerie and some other Human girl he didn't recognise, who clearly didn't belong here. He looked around as if hearing something, and then his eyes came to rest on the ring he wore with a large red stone set into it. He covered it with his other hand which he lifted slightly, like a small boy who caught an insect.
"My Lord?" He whispered.
"Who is that girl with the red hair?" A voice that only he could hear asked of him.
"I don't know. I heard Quayle call her Imogen or something like that."
"Imoen?"
"Perhaps," Kalah shrugged. "It cannot be important, can it my Lord?"
"Everything is important. Her presence here means we will have to advance our plans. You will have to do it tonight."
"Of... of course my Lord!" Kalah's eyes sparkled with glee. "I am fully prepared."
"Yes, well, there's very little chance even you could mess this up. Simply hold up the ring and say the word I taught. You sure you have no qualms with doing this to your colleagues?"
"Of course not, my Lord. Those disgusting beasts have brought it on themselves."
"Good. Then have your fun with them, Kalah. I would like tonight's show to be entertaining, for a change. But, do not toy with them too long. Do not forget our bargain. This 'child of the feather' must never leave here alive."
Lashing and snarling, really big teeth and claws attached to muscular bodies and ferocious looking faces. Imoen had followed Aerie into one of the larger tents, but stayed very close to the entrance a she watched the beasts pacing about their cage.
"Ohh... really big cats," the redhead warbled. "I think I'll stay back here. I don't like cats."
"I-I thought it was Sea Lions you didn't like," Aerie said, "not actual Lions."
"To be honest, I've just never got along with any animal," the daughter of Bhaal said. "I don't really believe that stuff about them having a sixth sense, but they just don't seem to like me for some reason. I'm great with kids though... Jaheira's always telling me I've got a natural affinity with infants," she said, putting down Donald and licking another toffee apple.
"Uh... huh."
"Where in the hells have you been?" A woman snapped. Imoen assumed she was talking to Aerie. The woman in question was stood in front of the Lion's cage, a long whip looped between her hands. Black hair, green eyes, and obviously was supposed to be dressed as some kind of Jungle Woman with just enough fur to make her acceptable for children, and no more.
"I-I'm sorry, Tira," Aerie bowed her head, "Uncle Quayle let me have the day off."
"Uncle Quayle is not the Ringmaster here. My father is; you wait until he hears about this. And since your insipid Uncle hasn't shown up here yet, you had better sort that out," Tira nodded to the table with huge slabs of meat laid out on it. "And who is she?" The Jungle Woman pointed at Imoen.
"Imoen... s-she's just a guest of mine and my Uncle's. I was showing her around."
"Is that right?" Tira's ruby red lips twisted upwards into an unfriendly smile. "Well... come in then; come and meet my pets."
Imoen looked to Aerie, who shrugged apologetically before getting to work on the meat. The redhead stepped slowly away from the entrance, taking little tiny steps towards this Tira and the cage. The beasts inside didn't seem to be paying her any attention as she approached; they all had their eyes on the woman holding the whip.
"It's alright; come closer. Right up to the cage," the Jungle Woman goaded, "see, they're pussycats, really."
Imoen was getting pretty close to the Lion's now, and they were still just sat down with their mouths open and tongues hanging out. Maybe these ones really were harmless. She felt a tiny bit more confident and quickened her pace. Tira cocked her leg and put her hand beneath, still smiling. Imoen was almost right in front of cage when the Jungle Woman started tapping her foot... the Lion's roared suddenly, one of them trying take a huge swipe at the redhead through the bars. It was just out of reach, but Imoen instinctively fell backwards anyway.
"Yah!" Tira screamed, her whip uncoiling and lashing at the bars just in front of the beast, which retreated instantly. Flustered, Imoen retreated back to Aerie.
"Don't worry," the Elf smiled sympathetically, "s-she does that to lots of people."
"She must make a lot of friends," Imoen responded bitterly. "What are you doing?"
"Oh... t-the Lions have to be fed before going out. And I have to mix in some of these herbs that'll just make them feel a bit drowsy."
"Why?"
"I-I'll let you in on a secret. We don't get new Lions for her to tame every night. I-it's always these ones, a-and they're already tamed a-and trained. Did you see the way she was tapping her foot? That's what makes them roar and act all fierce."
"So, if they're already tame, why have you got to drug them?"
"Well... t-they are still beasts, a-and they sometimes don't take kindly to someone shoving a chair in their faces. There'll be no bars between them tonight."
"There isn't any way you could just lose some of the herbs, is there?" Imoen asked. Aerie's lips twitched a few times as she tried to resist a grin.
"I-I'm... not a beast."
"No," Imoen smiled. They'd treated Aerie like one but she'd beaten them, so far.
"Look at them," Tira sneered, slowly stepping backwards from the Lion's so that she could take them all in. "See how they cower from me? The 'King's' of The Jungle?"
"Um... L-lion's don't actually live in jungles," the Elf pointed out quietly.
"Shut up Aerie," the Lion tamer gritted her teeth, not looking behind her. "You stupid blonde... dummy... at least these creatures are smart enough to know who their Master is."
Tira kept stepping backwards, curling up her whip. Unfortunately, she had misjudged the distance that Aerie was behind her and ended up touching the Elf's bottom. Just that very small amount of contact, it seemed, was enough to make Tira explode.
"Get out of my way!" She screeched, pushing Aerie clear across the table and scattering the meat trays everywhere. Imoen shuffled backwards as well, stunned by the sudden eruption of violence. "You... you imbecile!" Tira spat at Aerie as the Elf lay on her chest. "You had better clear all this up!"
Aerie was grimacing, but then her eyes flashed angrily. With her body tensed, she sprung back up and stood in front of the other woman with her little fists tightly clenched. Clearly, a challenge. Tira took a small step back, eyes wide in astonishment, but she soon found her courage again. There were about five other people backing her up and making a ring around them.
"What?" Tira started taunting, her mouth twisting into an evil grin again. "You actually going to try something, Aerie? Go ahead... hit me. I'm begging you to... then my daddy will kick you out of here, leave you in a ditch to die like you should have been years ago."
Imoen clenched her fists too. This was totally unfair; Aerie couldn't use her magic because of the license thing in Amn, and physically it was obvious that just Tira alone was much stronger than her, yet alone the five henchmen and women who were already rubbing their hands eagerly. And the worst part was there were about a dozen other people in the tent just ignoring what was going on right in front of them... somebody should have the courage to do something. She should. But she didn't. Something held her back, and not just the fact that were six of them; she'd fought greater odds than that before. But her blundering in would only make a bad situation even worse, again. Wouldn't it?
Aerie began to notice the other five people as well, and then to resign herself to the fact that she had no realistic chance of winning in this situation either.
"I-I," the Elf began to say, swallowing her pride and bowing her head.
"Aye, aye? What, are you a pirate?" Tira mocked to several snort and chortles.
"I'm... sorry. Ma'am," Aerie said through her gritted teeth.
"You are that," Tira grinned triumphantly. "Come on... this little bints not worth it," she announced to her companions, turning away from the Elf who was trying to steady herself taking deep breaths.
"I'm sorry, Aerie... I..." Imoen didn't know what to say. She knew she should have helped, despite the odds, but... she'd seized up again.
"It's okay," the Elf sighed, picking up the table and starting to finish the job she had been doing. "Y-you're still not feeling better."
"No," Imoen agreed. At least she couldn't remember ever being like this before today. "Does this happen often?"
"Once or twice a day, usually. If... i-if I could just get Tira on her own."
"Well... even then, she is still a bit bigger than you."
"Don't care. S-she can beat me up as much as she wants, so long as I'd have a chance of her hitting her back as well."
"Not a whole lot of people with honour nowadays," Imoen sighed, trying to think of some way she could make up for her failure. "There... might be a better way of getting back at her. One that doesn't involve getting your arm broken."
"What do you mean?"
"Well... they're all off to do the show now, right?"
"Right."
"And I assume has her very own mobile home thing, right?"
"O-of course. Why?"
"Well, think about it Aerrers... what would your hero, Chiktikka Fastpaws, do in this situation?"
"He'd... p-probably set up some kind of prank that would humiliate and make her look stupid. B-but... those are just children's stories. Y-you'd have to be crazy to try that in real life."
"There are lots things you still have to learn about me, kid," Imoen grinned, "and one of them is that I am totally crazy."
It was dark by the time Aerie had finished that chore, gathered a few things Imoen had asked for and the two of them had broken into Tira's caravan. Well, not broken into; the lock posed no challenge to Imoen now that she had some pins and needles and bits of wire. The show had started; they could hear the music and laughter from the main Circus tent.
The inside of the caravan was a bit more lavishly decorated than Aerie's had been, with a proper bed rather than a shelf with a blanket draped over it, little scented things hanging from the roof and one of those vanity cabinets with a big mirror on it. There were also lots of bottles lying around. Imoen took the lid off one and sniffed; it was a sweet smelling oil.
"She must use this for washing her hair," she said, putting it to one side for the moment. "Ah... what's this?" She picked up a large glass bottle that was next to the mirror. "Gin?"
"Yes... s-she always has a drink before every show. To calm her nerves, I suppose. A-and always just before she goes to sleep."
"Hm... what do you think, Aerie?"
"Um," the Elf held up a case that was strapped around her neck and shoulder; Quayle's medicine case that she'd picked up per Imoen's instruction. In it were lots of quite small bottles, which the Elf deliberated over for moment before picking one out. "Laxative."
"I like how you think," Imoen took the bottle and began pouring its contents into the gin. "How strong is this stuff?"
"Oh... p-pretty powerful. We only needed a teaspoonful to clear the Elephant when he was blocked up."
"Better just pour it all in anyway, just to be on the safe side."
"Are... a-are you sure she won't suspect us?"
"C'mon Aerrers; she would never believe you capable of anything like this. And anyway, after we've spoken to Quayle tomorrow we'll be getting out of here... we'll just hang around long enough to make sure she's had all her surprises."
And they left several surprises for Tira, since they knew they had at least a few hours before the Lion tamer would return. What they weren't counting on however was there being another surprise. About half-way through the allotted time for the Circus' performance, the caravan rocked slightly as if there had been a tremor. Not enough to smash any of the items Imoen had carefully prepared, thankfully.
"A-another explosion?" Aerie asked, keeping her balance against a wall.
"No... didn't sound exactly like an explosion this time," Imoen strained her ears. She heard screaming.
They ran into the night outside, but the silvery, blue white glow they encountered that lit The Promenade wasn't moon light. It was the main Circus tent where they had been doing the show. Crowds of people were pouring out of it, screaming, pushing, trampling each other. Imoen and Aerie moved to get a closer look; some of the people stumbling out of there had huge slashes and gashes across their clothes and skin, like they'd been attacked by animals, although no animal Imoen recognised.
"Uncle... U-uncle Quayle!" Aerie gasped. Within seconds she was determinedly trying to push her way through the crowds, even though they were all hurrying in the opposite direction.
"Wait!" Imoen caught her by the arm. "You can't just going rushing... you don't know what's happening yet."
"What's happening? I... I-I have to help him!" The Avariel answered resolutely, yanking herself free.
"Don't be..." Imoen tried to use reason, but it was already far too late for that. Aerie was making her way through the crowd with surprising speed; it seemed once she was really determined to do something there was little that would stop her, not even a stampede.
What should she do? If Jaheira were here, she would have been furious at that question and told Imoen that she already knew what to do. Her legs clearly did, anyway; they hadn't picked now to seize up. Not now there was a risk of actual death... no, they were already taking her in after the Elf. Her brain was going to have to have a serious chat with them once this was all over.
Oh well... what a perfect end to a perfect day.