Soon they were outside walking through the pitch-black roads and paths that twisted throughout Zondon. She was nearly unable to see ahead more than just a few feet. Light from several distant lamps near the spired quarters of the Crimson Queen shone but did little to illuminate their path.
Her skin felt clammy and each step into the dark unknown sent panicked images racing through her thoughts. “Where are we going?” she hissed and jumped at her own voice, loud in the quiet of the dark passages.
“Shhh!” Pigeon whispered but then leaned in, her mouth to Syn’s ear, and said, “I want to take you to two places.”
“Now?”
Pigeon breathed out, “Yes. Now.”
They were off again, Pigeon pulling Syn behind her. The thin girl seemed to be at home in the dark, never once stopping for uncertainty, gliding through the turns as if she could see them during daylight.
The area ahead cleared up, and while everything was still veiled in darkness, Syn knew that they were no longer confined by walls on either side. A wide structure with a pointed roof appeared in silhouette against the gray sky.
In a flash, the entire thing lit up in a deep red light from Pigeon’s flashlight. The structure was a carousel with dozens of plaster animals, each frozen in running position, bound to the structure by a large spiraled pole. Syn had seen carousels in movies from Mary Poppins to A Summer Above the River. She gasped.
Pigeon whispered, “Do you like it?”
“I’ve never seen one in real life before.” The structure was a beautiful spectacle. Across the canopy, scenes from the construction of Olorun were painted: the dry dock, the launch out with Earth in the background, images of Àpáàdì, and Orisha masks in between each muraled scene. All glowed menacingly in Pigeon’s red light.
Pigeon turned around and narrowed her eyes. “There’s not one on your Disc?’
Syn shook her head. That was odd. There wasn’t a carousel on her side. Everything had been nearly the same, except this and the absence of a great tree on this side. A carousel here and a tree there? “No. There isn’t one in our zoo.”
Pigeon pulled her ahead. “Be quiet. And choose one.” She pointed to the various plaster animals: horses, zebras, big cats, and more. She stepped close to the white horse with a glowing mane. Next to it, an ebony stallion raced, red feathers lining its saddle. A large white bunny stood a few feet away, and Syn found it frightening. She stepped up onto the wooden platform and scanned the other options. A giraffe stood straight and tall. The zebra was stretched out long and in mid-stride, adorned with a pink saddle. Behind that, a regal lion with a full mane stepped, front paw up. A mare with a teal mermaid’s tail was paired next to that.
But there was no question for Syn. She stepped up to the massive tiger and ran her hand down its back. “Eku,” she whispered, but only to herself, and then climbed on, wrapping her arms around its cold neck.
A thought flashed in her mind as she remembered the high-note calliope music that accompanied every image of carousel in her memory, and she turned sharply to Pigeon, climbing onto the dark, gray wolf paired with the tiger. “This doesn’t work does it? We can’t wake the others.”
Pigeon smiled. “Neci isn’t asleep yet anyway. She’s… um… busy. Besides, I’ve disconnected the speakers, and I’ve oiled the gears. This is as silent as me.” Her grin grew large, and she tapped something strapped to her belt.
Syn’s tiger jerked up as the carousel moved into life. Pigeon turned off the flashlight as they began to circle around, going up and down with the rhythmic parade of animals. A giggle escaped Syn’s lips, and she cupped her hand to her lips to prevent the next one following. It was wonderful. They spun around, and she could hear her own heartbeat race as she held tightly to the tiger’s neck. I miss you so much, Eku.
Memories of Eku flooded in. Her soft stepping through the brush on their long walks. Her deep sleeps against Syn, the cat’s great heart beating like a drum.
Around and around the carousel turned and Syn felt young again. Her froth of hair blew back behind her, and she couldn’t help but smile widely.
For years, she had wanted to have a friend to play with. Movies showed playgrounds and theme parks—girls racing about from ride to ride, giggling as they went. She had abandoned the hope years past. Syn reached out and found Pigeon’s hand and held it tightly, giving it a squeeze. Pigeon’s fingers resisted the touch at first but then curled around Syn’s hand, and they rode around like that forever in the silence, wanting each to squeal and laugh and knowing that to do so would mean being caught.
Like the plaster animals they rode on, time seemed to freeze, and they just orbited the dark star at the center of the carousel, circling about without any future or any past to worry about. Their momentum slowed and soon, the dance that seemed to go on forever came to an end as the carousel stopped.
Syn leaped off of the tiger, still holding onto Pigeon’s hand. She pulled the thin girl close to her and hugged her tightly. In Pigeon’s ear, Syn whispered, “Thank you,” before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Pigeon stood motionless herself, like the animals around her.
Syn leaned in. “Are you okay?”
Pigeon dropped her head down and said, “I’ve never been hugged before.”
Syn recounted her experiences and whispered back, “Me neither.”
She reached around Pigeon again, holding her tightly. Pigeon’s thin arms returned the gesture. The two remained locked in each other’s arms, statues themselves amongst the frozen menagerie.
Pigeon let go first and grabbed Syn’s hand. “I have one more thing to show you.” She whisked Syn away, into the dark paths leading away from the carousel.
“Why’d you do this?” Syn asked as they walked.
Pigeon glanced back. “I wanted you to know that not everything on this side is rotten.”
Syn nodded. “I know that.” She remembered the Barlgharel, Huck, Arquella, and Bear. She remembered her time with Kerwen in the orchard. Her own sense of joy right then reaffirmed that.
Pigeon brought her to a large building with a series of garage doors. The structure was set back by itself, and each window was dark.
Pigeon said, “Shhh. No one’s here, but be careful. Don’t be loud. No matter what you see.”
Syn started to ask, and Pigeon hushed her again. Pigeon added, “I mean it. You’re not prepared but you can’t scream.” Pigeon tapped against some unseen pad, and the lock opened with a sharp click-clack metallic grating sound. Pigeon pushed open the door. They stepped in, and the smell of rotting meat slammed into them. Syn started to gag. Pigeon grabbed her hand and held it tightly.
“What is that?” Syn asked.
Pigeon flicked on the flashlight, and the room was bathed in red light. Syn knew instantly where she was. A workshop. Much like hers with large benches, scattered tools, cabinets, odds and ends, piles of parts. There was even a stool on wheels like hers.
“This is Neci’s,” Pigeon said.
Dark patches of a thick liquid dripped from the center table. Syn held her hand above the largest puddle and found it to be warm.
Pigeon motioned Syn to follow around a corner, to the larger section of the workshop. Syn did and her mouth opened aghast.
Pigeon held a finger to her lips, and Syn stifled a scream.