All around us were portraits of famous old peculiars, not framed but drawn directly onto the walls in oil and charcoal and grease pencil. The one closest to me was a face with wide, staring eyes and an open mouth, inside of which was a real, functioning water fountain. Around its mouth was a motto written in Dutch, which Millard, standing next to me, translated: “From the mouths of our elders comes a fountain of wisdom.”
Nearby was another, this one in Latin. “
“How fitting,” said Enoch.
“I can’t believe I’m really here,” said Melina. “I’ve studied this place and dreamed about it for so many years.”
“It’s just a room,” said Enoch.
“Maybe to you. To me, it’s the heart of the whole peculiar world.”
“A heart that’s been ripped out,” said someone new, and I looked to see a clown striding toward us—the same one who’d been stalking us at the carnival. “Miss Jackdaw was standing right where you are when she was taken. We found a whole pile of her feathers on the floor.” His accent was American. He stopped a few feet from us and stood, chewing, one hand on his hip. “This them?” he asked the folding man, pointing at us with a turkey leg. “We need
“I’m a hundred and twelve!” said Melina.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before,” said the clown. “I could tell you people were peculiar from across the fairgrounds, by the way. You’re the most obviously peculiar bunch of peculiars I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“I told them same thing,” said the folding man.
“How they made it all the way here from Wales without being captured is beyond me,” said the clown. “In fact, it’s suspicious. Sure one of you ain’t a wight?”
“How dare you!” said Emma.
“We
“Uh-huh, and I’m the king of Bolivia,” the clown said.
“
The clown tossed up his hands. “Okay, okay, calm down, kid! I’m sure Wren wouldn’t have let you in if you weren’t legitimate. Come on, let’s be friends, have a turkey leg.”
