Carnival of the Soul Read online

  I have heard the name 'Temujin' before, Terry mused. I just can't remember where.

  'Temujin was the original name of Genghis Khan.'

  Terry blinked. You're like an index for my brain sometimes, you know that?

  'You're welcome, Husband.'

  Laila Rise had a build somewhat similar to Mamma Moo. She was only curvy rather than outright fat though, and her chest was not quite so large. Her horns were off-white and rather small, though that might just be from Terry's perspective, given he lived with Laina and her horns were huge. She had a dark-brown hide with lighter blonde blotches across her exposed arms and thighs, and wore what looked like a simple brown woolen skirt that stopped halfway between her knees and the ground. Her sarashi — on the other hand — shone like silk, and was an intricately woven affair of brown and gold. She had blonde hair tied back in a braid that was hung with feathers and beads, and blue eyes. Her face was weather-worn, but her expression was warm and welcoming.

  Graven Morrow's face, like all other minotaurs Terry had seen, was more bovine than human. His principally gray hair hung in lank strands around his head. His beard didn't cover his upper lip, but hung down to the middle of his sunken chest, and he wore a heavy woolen robe dyed in a geometric design of blue, white, and gray. His right horn was broken, and his hands shook slightly even though he seemed friendly and at ease.

  The last of the leaders, Yesun Tege, was a minotaur in the prime of life, and matched Marcus in height, with a barrel chest and huge arms. Of the three leaders, he was the only one who wore armor, and was armed with a wicked-looking hand ax that hung from his left side, its handle angled for a cross-draw. There was also a bow unstrung on his back, and a quiver of arrows at his right hip.

  Now that Terry had been reminded of the source of the name for his herd, he could recognize the cut of the man's armor, and even his name, as Mongolian.

  I guess with millions of people in his hordes there were bound to be more than a few Mongol heroes who wound up here back in the day, Terry mused.

  'At least one, and apparently that one made quite an impression,' Prada agreed.

  Still, despite his war-like presence, Yesun's expression was open and friendly as he shook Yuri's hand, and he did so last, allowing both Graven and Laila to greet the tiger man before him.

  "We cast lots, and Yesun won the right to host your party," Graven was saying as he indicated his fellow with a pleasant nod. "I do hope you'll be willing to accept?"

  "Of course, I am honored to spend time with the Temujin," Yuri said. "I do hope that you will forgive us if we are not too social this first night. It has been a long day for us."

  "By all means, let us escort you to your evening's rest," Graven replied with a smile. "Incidentally, do not worry. As instructed, we drove away the women who were clustered here when we arrived. Marcus did not tell us why, only that they could not be allowed to stay. We have not seen any of them in the past few days, and while you are in camp you will be safe from them even if they are lurking about. Most seemed all too willing to decamp when they saw the herds converging for the carnival."

  Yuri nodded and turned to the group. Within five minutes, he was on the bench of the wagon and had everyone moving. Mila and Shy rode two of the horses, but the rest were hitched to the back of the wagon. Laina sat on the bench with Yuri, and Terry wound up in the back of the wagon with the barrels and the cocoons of his children.

  After they had taken his blood, the spiders had begun a metamorphosis, and it wasn't until he saw their bundles of webbing that he realized he hadn't given them a thought when Marcus had abruptly appeared and told them they'd have to leave.

  The smallest was the size of a basketball, but three were more medicine ball-sized, and as he watched, they shivered and shifted with what he suspected was more than the gentle rolling motion of the wagon.

  Not for the first time, he wondered what he'd let himself in for when he'd decided to go along with Arachne's plan.

  A few minutes into the ride, Laina clamored into the back with him and he quirked a brow at her as he saw the sour expression on her face.

  "What's up?" he asked.

  She looked at him for a moment in frustration before shaking her heavy head as she said, "You remember when I told you that my sister took me away from where we grew up to spare me from the bullying?"

  "Yeah?"

  She jerked a thumb behind her at the world beyond the tarp-covered wagon as she said, "These guys are no different. Less than five minutes and I'm already tired of the pity and the laughing eyes."

  Terry frowned, then shifted to sit next to her. He wrapped a hand around her side and she dropped one over his shoulders as she said, "This is gonna suck. I hope we don't stay here long."

  "Sure you don't want to set up shop and make 'em all wish they were you?" he asked, trying to remind her that she was more than just an outsider.

  She glanced down at him and half-smiled, but said, "I'd be lucky to get anyone here to even try my milk. This isn't like Florence, where they test and certify. In a herd, a cow's milk is judged by the health of her family and kids. I don't have any kids and I can't exactly show you off now, can I."

  "No, I suppose not," he admitted. A glimmering of an idea came to him and after a moment's thought he said, "Though ... you know I've got options. If all you need to do is prove your milk has made your man strong, we can do that."

  "Yeah? How?"

  Terry's mind was spinning as he put together a rough idea, and said in musing tones, "Tell you what. After we find out where they're going to put us up, you and I can go to a bar or what passes for one. I'll bet I can set things up just right, but only if you come with me."

  "I go with you anywhere and it'll just cause trouble," she muttered.

  He grinned and rubbed her back fondly as he said, "I was hoping you'd say that."

  Laina gave him the side-eye as she said, "Just what are you planning?"

  His grin widened.

  "Trust me. You're gonna love this."

  4

  Class is in Session

  In the end, Laina and Halla accompanied Terry that evening, along with Prada, of course.

  Before they headed out, Terry let Prada in on his idea, and she gleefully agreed. It took him the better part of half an hour to figure out how to balance on hooves, and were it not for Prada messing around in his brain it would have taken much longer than that. When the transformation was complete, he gave the dryad's mask back to Shy, kissed her, and then almost got into an argument with her about not letting her come along.

  "Trust me," he said. "It's going to be bad enough with Halla in the group. As it is I'm making her leave her gear behind. If I have you and Asturial tagging along as well, my idea won't work."

  Shy had agreed in the end, though he'd had to remind her over and over that between Prada, Laina, and Halla, there was pretty much nothing that could put them in any danger.

  Asturial had required a different kind of conversation. He'd pulled her aside, told her his plan, and she'd simply said, "Hah! That's clever. I would come just to watch, but as long as Prada agrees to share her memories with me later, I will consent to remain."

  Prada had promised to show her everything, and she had wished the group well.

  It was almost full dark when they set out, and though Terry did not fully mesh with Prada, the fact that he was using her abilities as a dopple meant that she covered him head to foot. He had kept his natural height and physique, but otherwise taken on the form of a minotaur male, complete with hooves, horns, tail, and rather bovine face. His haircut was starkly out of place, but he insisted on keeping it, along with his natural eye color and the scar just above them. He'd initially thought he would have some trouble speaking, but Prada handled all of that. She also continued to display herself proudly as a blood-red silk sash.

  The carnival was essentially an ocean of tents, yurts, and other forms of temporary structure. Most of the yurts were made of felt, but canvas and other mat
erials were relatively common. Dogs were everywhere, and the smallest of them was the size of a Doberman, while the largest were bigger than some ponies he'd seen. Sheep were also common, and it was obvious where the nomadic tauren got a great deal of their material for clothing. There were also oxen, horses, and more than a few camels, which surprised Terry the first time he saw them.

  The atmosphere was festive, though the whole area smelled like a stockyard and Terry quickly learned he had to be careful where he put his feet ... hooves. He was sure the tauren cleaned up after themselves, but there were so many loose animals that the results were inevitable.

  The herds camped in groups, but at the edge of their respective encampments there were wide bands of communal structures that were little more than canvas and tarp strewn up high to keep out the rain but with no walls. Eating establishments abounded, as did places set up for the express purpose of drinking and making merry.

  "The herds certainly seem to have no problems mingling," Terry noted as they walked. His ears were swiveling to and fro with his attention, and that felt weird, but since most of his concentration was on finding a likely target, he did his best to ignore it.

  Laina said, "Yeah, when the kids are grown they get tossed out. Carnivals like this are usually set up so the herds can tempt in new blood. Everyone out here grows up in one herd and lives in another. It keeps things between the herds friendly, and makes it easy for them to come together to deal with ... whatever problems might come up."

  "Why split up at all then?" Halla asked. "Seems way too fuckin' complicated to me."

  Laina shrugged, clearly ill at ease as she looked warily around. "From what my sister told me, if a herd gets too big the land can't sustain it. So tauren split up and wander. Most herds cap out at about five thousand head. If a herd is too big, it won't accept new members when it stops at a carnival. Sis told me that the plains where we came from supported over two million head that way.

  "That's a lot of herds," Terry commented.

  "Yep. How was it for your people?" Laina asked, glancing at Terry.

  "Cities mostly. Like Florence only bigger."

  "Bigger than Florence?" Laina sounded dubious.

  "Hon, I hate to say it, but Florence is tiny. The city where I grew up had about seven hundred thousand people, and a few of the bigger cities in my country had over eight million. World-wide, there are over eight billion people."

  "Is 'billion' actually a number?" Halla asked, looking at Laina, who shrugged and said, "Um, not that I know of."

  Terry chuckled and said, "One million has six zeros. One billion is a thousand millions; it has nine zeros."

  "Shit, Boss, you serious? I've never seen more people gathered in one place than right here. How many people is this?" Halla asked.

  He glanced around, then said, "Well, I have no real way of knowing, but if a herd is capped out at five thousand, and there's only three herds here, then fifteen thousand people max in the whole encampment."

  "There's more than three herds here," Laina muttered. "We just got greeted by the three closest. Carnivals typically last a month and herds cycle through it. This one only happened because the Labyrinth showed up, and since someone went in today, it'll probably break up again within a week. Two at most."

  As she said this, Terry's ear swiveled to catch a comment from one of the minotaurs in a nearby drinking pavilion. The comment was followed by an uproar of laughter, and given Laina's wince, she'd heard it too.

  Perfect.

  He stopped, glanced at Laina and said, "Okay hon, here's the deal. You're trusting me and I appreciate that, but since I promised you no more surprises I've gotta say this up front. I'm about to pick a fight, but I am not going to kill anyone. You and Halla stay out of it unless I get mobbed, okay?"

  "Wait, you mean you brought me out here deliberately waiting for someone to make fun of me?" Laina asked.

  "Yep. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's pick a fight. Got any money on you?"

  "Yeah, but-"

  "Would you give me a quarter, please?"

  Laina looked at him in frank disbelief until he said again, "Please?"

  "I can't talk you out of this, can I?" she asked, though it wasn't really pitched as a question.

  "Very unlikely."

  She sighed, rooted around in the money pouch at her belt, and handed over a golden quarter.

  "Thanks."

  Terry turned and made for the speaker, who turned out to be a younger-looking minotaur, though still huge. He was an easy seven feet tall, with ivory a foot and a half on each side. He was wearing a loincloth and a fine leather belt with a silver buckle, and his bracers also looked like silver. He had a silver torc high on his left bicep, and the confident air of youthful invincibility about him. He was standing at a high round table along with four others who were obviously his companions.

  Best of all, none of them were armed. He had made sure to leave all his own weapons behind, even the silver bracers he'd gotten from the vampire hoard, and had made Halla and Laina come without arms as well. No one had a weapon, which meant that with Prada, he was pretty much bulletproof. It was essentially cheating, but then again, he hadn't been looking for any specific target. The loudmouth had singled himself out by being a dick.

  He's fucking perfect.

  As Terry approached, he took in the situation at a glance and the table itself gave him an idea.

  When I stop, I want you to anchor me to the ground, he thought at Prada. I need leverage for what I have in mind, and that dude looks heavier than I am.

  'As you wish, Husband.'

  Terry stopped, standing right next to the offender as he raised his voice and said, "Everybody! Hey!"

  He put his fingers in his lips and cut loose with a piercing whistle that brought all the conversations nearby to a halt, then said, "Better. Okay everybody! Gather 'round! I'm about to teach a class! Come on, step up, everyone needs a view! You'll like this, I promise."

  As tauren gathered around, ringing the table in a loose circle, Terry put on his best smile — considering his face was all weird — and looked at the offender as he said, "Hi! How are you?"

  By now the residual chuckling had died away as the four others at the table exchanged glances with the minotaur who'd made himself a target. That worthy tilted his heavy head to look down at Terry with a bemused expression on his bovine face. "Fine, pipsqueak. What do you want?"

  Another round of chuckling ensued, and Terry smiled indulgently as he said, "I couldn't help but overhear you saying something about my wife. I was wondering if you'd be willing to repeat it, mister ... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

  "Law," the minotaur rumbled.

  "Law? Really? No, I don't think so. That's way too cool a name for you. I think I'll be calling you, mmmm, Shitstack."

  Terry nodded thoughtfully. "That's better. Well, Shitstack? You care to repeat that comment from earlier? I'd love to see if you've got the balls to say it to my face, and for a bigger audience than one that includes just your friends."

  By now Halla was laughing, but Terry didn't dare look around. His eyes were locked with the much bigger minotaur's darkly glimmering gaze, and the expression on the man's face turned ugly as he sneered.

  "I said, 'That minotaur's got the worse case of bitch-titty I've ever seen, poor guy.'"

  Halla's laughter abruptly cut out, and Terry fanned his left palm out in a 'STOP' motion, keeping the gesture down by his hip where no one standing at the table could see it.

  He nodded thoughtfully. "That's what I thought you said."

  Terry reached out and carefully slid Shitstack's mug away to the other side of the table, then pointed to the blank space as he asked, "Do you know what that is?"

  "I'm gettin' tired of you, pipsqueak," the minotaur rumbled. "You'd best take that twisted tress of yours and get movin' before I flatten you."

  Glancing around at the audience, Terry raised his voice and waved a hand over the clear space on the table as he s
aid, "This, is a landing pad. Now! Watch carefully, class. This is how you use a landing pad."

  Terry's hand whipped up, caught the minotaur's head by the horn, and slammed his face down onto the table. It bounced, so he did it again, then a third time, at which point the boards splintered and snapped.

  With his feet anchored to the ground and the superior strength he'd gained from his bonds, Terry made it look easy. He'd always been fast, and even without a spell to increase that speed, it was easy.

  Shitstack crumpled to the ground, eyes glassy, blood streaming from his nose and ruined lips, several teeth missing.

  "STOP!" Terry bellowed, raising both hands palm out, as though he were Moses parting the red sea. "Class is still in session!"

  The surprised bellows and ragged cries from the crowd died out, and the other four around the table froze as Terry pointed to the next closest minotaur and said, "You! I'm not even going to bother with your name, you laughing jackass. Is Shitstack your friend?"

  "Yes," he said, earning Terry's respect despite his earlier willingness to laugh at Laina's expense. Anyone who was willing to stand by his friend after what Terry had just done was worth something.

  "Good, here."

  Terry took one of two bottles he'd brought with him and set it down on the splintered remains of the table. "Drink that, and tell the class what it is. You've my word it'll do you no harm. I, on the other hand, will definitely do you harm if you don't."

  With a glance at his fallen and still dazed companion, the minotaur in question picked up the bottle, pulled the cork, and took a long pull. He lowered the bottle and muttered, "It's milk. Damn good milk."

  "That milk is three days old. THIS milk is from this morning."

  Terry set the other bottle on the table and pointed at it as he said, "Give that to your friend ... and if he really is your friend, you'd better make sure he drinks it all."

  As the minotaur did as he was told, Terry looked up and around and clapped his hands as he said, "Okay class! Just to recap! You all know what a landing pad is and how to use one! Always move the beer before you slam someone's face into the table. The beer didn't do anything wrong!"