Disharmony

Zac cocked his head to one side. ‘Black,’ he said.

Luke raised his head.

Zac leapt up onto the bench in one lithe bound, grabbed the knife from the chopping block, flung it across the room and then disappeared. Luke blinked and Zac stood on the opposite side of the large kitchen, holding the quivering knife.

The marmalade cat hissed, scrabbled fat feet on the granite, and took off.

Luke climbed onto a barstool. He needed to sit down.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘that changes things.’

The Funhouse

June 30, 8.29 p.m.

Samantha tried to sit up, decided that was probably not going to work, and lay back down. Her head hurt so much that it felt like her brain was a lump of metal and a magnet beneath the floor was doing its very best to suck it out of her skull.

She opened her eyes.

‘You look like crap,’ said Birthday Jones.

‘What are you doing here?’ she said. ‘And, um, where is here?’

The ceiling above her was pitched to a point and painted in thick pink and lime stripes. The colours were a tad bright right now, and she closed her eyes again.

‘We just saved your arse,’ said Birthday Jones.

‘What was wrong with my arse?’ she asked, eyes still closed. ‘And who is we?’

She had a feeling that something bad had just happened to her, but exactly what, she was not sure. And right now she was thinking that maybe that was a good thing, because of her metal brain and the magnet and all.

‘Sam, this is Seraphina Woods,’ said Birthday.

Sam opened her eyes. A beautiful woman’s face appeared.

‘Call me Sera,’ said the woman, smiling down at her. ‘Hi.’

‘What’s going on?’ said Samantha.

She raised her head and managed to lean up on her elbow. Her stomach lurched with the movement. And suddenly everything flooded back – Boldo and Shofranka, the ninjas…

‘Tamas!’ she screamed, struggling to her feet.

The room spun, faded to white and she would have fallen had the woman not grabbed her.

‘Samantha, honey. You’re weak right now. Don’t panic,’ the woman said.

‘Where is Tamas?’ she managed, panting.

‘He’s out there,’ said Seraphina. ‘The paramedics are with him.’

‘Is he -’ Samantha couldn’t think it, let alone say it.

‘He’s going to be okay, thanks to you,’ said Seraphina.

‘I need to see him.’

‘You can’t go out there, Sam,’ said Birthday. ‘The Yakuza took off when we snatched you and the police arrived -’

‘But they’re still out there,’ said Seraphina. ‘And they’re Japanese mafia, Sam. They will take on the police if they believe they can capture you.’

What do the Japanese mafia want with me? thought Samantha, followed by, I have to sit down. Right at that moment her knees gave way.

‘Birthday, bring me that chair, would you,’ said Seraphina.

Eyes closed, Sam heard a chair being scraped towards her and she dropped into it, guided by the woman holding her. She put her head between her knees and tried not to vomit. The musky smell of Tamas’s blood saturating her T-shirt and jeans didn’t help with those efforts. But it was much more than that – she had never felt so incredibly weak and exhausted.

What is wrong with me? she wanted to know.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ she groaned.

‘You performed a very powerful healing spell, Samantha White,’ said Seraphina. ‘And given that you’ve absolutely no training, you’re lucky to be alive.’

Oh great, thought Samantha, eyes on her sneakers. This must be some Roma witch who’s spun so much bull to the Gaje that she’s convinced herself it’s true. I need to get out of here. Is Tamas really going to be okay?

The image of blood pulsing from his throat caused a sob to rise to her mouth. She bit down on it. Did Boldo still have Shofranka? What if Lala had woken up and was frantic for them? Was Mirela okay? She needed to find them now, and Birthday Jones and this woman were not going to stop her.

The woman knelt in front of her, dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Her skin was fresh cream, flawless. Underneath a khaki trucker’s cap, her eyes glowed amber, multifaceted, golden. They emitted so much warmth and kindness that Samantha had to blink. Why did this stranger seem to give a damn about her?

‘Who are you?’ she said.

‘I work for Save the Children. We help street kids all over the world. Birthday Jones is my friend.’

‘Are you Gaje?’ asked Samantha, not because that mattered, only because she was trying to figure things out.

‘I’m not from Romania,’ said Sera.

‘Samantha, you’re being rude,’ said Birthday, folding his arms across his black T-shirt.

A khaki trucker’s cap hid his curls and Samantha suddenly did a double take. Sera was wearing the same outfit, right down to the cargos.

‘What are you, my private army?’ she said.

‘Um, kinda,’ said Sera.

‘You don’t look like a social worker,’ said Samantha.

‘Well, thank you,’ said Seraphina, with a wink.

Did she just wink? thought Samantha. I have to get out of here. She doesn’t have a clue how bad all this is. ‘I have to go back out there to them,’ she said.

‘Not going to happen,’ said Sera. She smiled sadly. ‘Best I can do is allow you to peek outside at what’s happening, but then we’ll have to go.’

‘Go?’ said Samantha.

‘Yes, honey. We have to get you out of Romania. Tonight.’

Okay, so she’s crazy, thought Samantha. At least we’ve established that.

‘Riiight,’ she said. ‘Okay, then.’

She gave Birthday a look which clearly said: what-the-hell-are-you-thinking-hanging- around-with-this-fruitcake?

She put on her most reasoning tone of voice. ‘Well, maybe I could just have a look at what’s going on out there. I am really worried about my friends, my family.’ And as soon as I get near the door I’m getting the hell out of here. Ninjas with killing stars, kidnapping cowboys and now some psycho social worker. Why the hell didn’t I stay in camp tonight, like Lala told me to?

‘Of course, honey,’ said Sera. ‘Just make sure you keep all parts of your body inside the Funhouse.’

The Funhouse?

Samantha took a better look around the room. The candy stripes from the ceiling continued jauntily down the walls, giving the effect of a striped circus tent, although, as far as she could tell, the walls looked solid. The floor was a giant checkerboard; its glossy black-and-white tiles looked as though they’d never been walked upon. Opposite them, against the wall, leaned a giant mirror in an elaborate gilded frame. The chair she was sitting on was heavily padded in deep red velvet. It was the only chair in the room. And other than a royal blue door with a glass doorknob, that was it. She had definitely never seen a place like this at any other carni.

Her heart began hammering at her breastbone. She turned to Birthday.