The last time Theo had been to this fairground, happy families had crowded around and the rides had flashed with colorful lights. Then again, that had been more than ten years ago.
Now he couldn't keep his heart from pounding as he passed the rusted skeletons of old rides and fought through knee-high weeds. Not a single light was still working, cloaking the fairground in a darkness so heavy he almost forgot he was in the middle of a city.
The silence only made his heartbeat sound louder. Aside from his group, the only people they'd encountered were some teenagers getting stoned near the entrance. And so far none of his companions had said a word. They must be as lost in thought as Theo was, preparing in their own way for the coming confrontation.
Some part of him still couldn't believe they were heading straight toward the Infernal Legion. But Darian was right – they'd never get anywhere if they didn't take the initiative. It wasn't like Theo had expected to save Victor by sitting around on his ass.
The thought of Victor made his chest tighten. Would he be here, or would it just be the two street magicians? They hadn't seemed like much, but who knew, maybe they were better at fighting than entertaining.
Well, no matter what, Theo wouldn't make it easy for them. He clenched his hand into a fist. This time, he'd have the elemental spell in his arsenal.
As if sensing his resolve, Zenith gave him a tiny nod. It wasn't much, but some of the pressure in his chest relaxed.
At the front of the group, Meg suddenly picked up the pace. And no wonder – a building loomed out of the darkness ahead. At first it was just a silhouette against the night sky, but as they came closer Theo began to make out details. Specifically, that giant fiberglass sculpture of a clown's face looming over the entrance.
As a kid, the clown's giant grin and swirly eyes had scared the snot out of him, and now with faded paint and missing chunks, it seemed to belong more in a horror movie than a funhouse. The clown's hands cradled a sign that had once flashed with neon letters. Even in the dark, Theo could still read them: MASTER MADD'S HOUSE OF FUN AND TRICKS.
More tricks than fun, from what Theo remembered. Some genius had the bright idea of making it a "haunted funhouse," and that meant clowns splattered in fake blood jumping out of every corner while the disorienting mirrors made it impossible to find your way out.
Compared to that, even the Infernal Legion couldn't be so bad.
Step by step, they approached the entrance. Without realizing it, Theo reached for Zenith. When his familiar's hand clamped around his, Theo jerked, but Zenith only tightened his grip.
Sam came up to his other side, offering him a wink. Theo managed a weak grin in response.
"They certainly know how to set the atmosphere," Darian said dryly. "Get ready. Anything could happen."
With that, she stepped forward and gave the double doors a tremendous push. As they swung open, the rusted hinges unleashed a hideous screech.
Theo winced, but even beneath the noise he felt his Levia spark. A warning.
Then a deep chill rushed in, making his lungs seize. His first instinct was to back away, but Zenith had already started forward. Theo hurried to keep up with his long strides.
The air only got colder when they stepped through the doors, to the point where Theo half-expected to see his own breath. It tasted of dust and something rotting, mildewy.
Blinking hard, he glanced around the dark entrance hall, at the blurred reflections in the mirrors surrounding them.
Then his Levia flared hotter than ever and a diagram even blacker than the night surged across the floor. When it reached his feet, the chill burned through the soles of his shoes. It was all he could do to keep clinging to Zenith, to not back away.
Up ahead, Meg, Lodo, and Darian seemed to blur and flicker, as if they'd become reflections themselves. Then the darkness swallowed his vision and a rumble throbbed inside his skull. Only Zenith's firm grip kept him anchored in place.
Abruptly, the rumble stopped. In the sudden silence, Theo's heartbeat echoed like thunder. It was still pitch-black; he couldn't see anything.
A loud snap. Then a spotlight spilled across the floor, so bright Theo's eyes watered. Another one. Two lanky silhouettes stepped out beneath them, their purple eyes glowing.
"Welcome," they said as one, "to the real show."
Short, straight black horns stuck out of their heads as if their hairstyles had gained bizarre extra spikes. They now wore uniforms similar to Melphi's and Imago's, though with punk touches. Matching grins stretched their faces, exposing pointed teeth.
As his vision adjusted, Theo got a better look at the arena. Mirrors spread everywhere in Escher-like formations – across the floor, floating in the air. Some were pitch-black, while others reflected the group in blurry grayscale.
Hold on a minute. Meg, Lodo, and Darian were nowhere in sight.
"Where are the others?" Zenith demanded, stepping forward. His azure cape swept in front of Theo, its glinting sun emblem offering some relief from the suffocating darkness.
The girl cocked her head at the boy, then both of them giggled. "Wouldn't you like to know," the girl said.
"What did you do to them?" With a snick of metal, Zenith drew his sword. His Levia crackled inside Theo's veins like lightning. "Answer me!"
"Wait, Zenith – " Theo began, but Zenith had already lunged for the demons.
Before he could reach them, the spotlights vanished. Zenith lurched, disoriented, only for two new spotlights to appear, this time revealing the two demons sitting atop the floating mirrors. They leaned toward each other, clutching hands and wearing identical jack-o-lantern grins.
"How rude!" The girl wagged a finger. "The show hasn't begun yet. First, introductions are in order. I'm Ghost, and this is my brother Phantom. We're the finest performers in the Infernal Legion."
"Are you kidding?" Sam shouted. "Your act sucked!"
"That's because you don't appreciate art, you philistine swine," Ghost sniffed, tossing her head.
"Calling that 'art' is an insult to real magicians everywhere!"
"So you say, yet you're here for the evening show anyway." Another giggle from Ghost. "I suppose it wouldn't do to keep you waiting! Hup!"
With that, she and Phantom jumped off the mirrors. As they soared toward the ceiling, they spread their arms and called together, "Voila, and presto!"
This time, the spotlight illuminated a single mirror in the center of the arena. And inside it – Theo's heart jolted. It wasn't his reflection, or Ghost and Phantom's. Instead, it displayed a haggard-looking man in ragged clothes, his expression blank.
An expression Theo had seen before.
"A thrall?" Zenith gasped.
"We found him sleeping on a bench in the park. Decided to let him help us out with our show. Aren't we the kindest?" Ghost said.
"Take it away, Mr. Thrall!" Phantom clapped his hands.
A black diagram erupted beneath the thrall. Theo had just enough time to glimpse its complex yet strangely familiar design before Zenith charged the demons once more.
But the spell had already been cast. Darkness flooded the mirror and exploded from its surface like a tide of ink, splashing onto all the mirrors around it. As Zenith lunged toward Ghost and Phantom, the darkness churned and bubbled across the mirrors.
When it cleared, it revealed dozens of reflections. All of them demons with spiked green hair and insidious grins.
Theo's heart twisted into a knot when the reflections all stepped forward at once – and emerged from the mirrors. They spread around the arena, filling it like a mockery of the fairground's former crowds.
A Phantom copy landed just a few feet from Theo. His grin stretching like a shark's, he reached for Theo.
"Theo!" Sam grabbed the back of Theo's shirt, yanking him away. But the Phantom copies kept approaching, and more and more jointed it by the second, steadily closing in on Theo and Sam.
"What's the matter?" they crooned. "Just relax and enjoy the show."
A flash of blue, a streak of light. Zenith landed in front of Theo, his hair swirling and sword swinging a wide arc. Copies dissolved into smoke in its wake.
Yet even as they vanished, more copies were jumping out of the mirrors. They crowded around Zenith, almost blocking him from Theo's sight.
Theo couldn't just sit here. No time to panic, or wonder where the others had gone. The elemental spell.
Just as he began sketching the lines in his mind, a flash of mint green light startled him. A shield flared in front of him and Sam, matching the one beneath her feet. The copies slammed against it and bounced back.
Sam nodded at him, her mouth set in a determined line. Theo couldn't let her hold the fort alone. He clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself to picture the diagram again. It took more effort than he expected; his pounding heartbeat made it hard to think, and he couldn't quite remember the exact design that went in the top left.…
'Hurry, hurry!' The clash of metal, Zenith's grunts and shouts, only made his heart race faster. No choice – he'd have to trust his memory.
His mind made up, Theo cast the spell.
His Levia gave a violent wrench as if it was tearing itself out of his veins. Pink light burst beneath his feet, but it didn't take the form of a diagram. Instead, it crackled like lightning and burned like fire.
The light exploded in a shower of sparks, knocking him backward. He hit the ground on his rear. As the sparks scattered like residue from fireworks, Theo felt like they were taking half his heart with them.
Shit. He'd gotten it wrong.