Read Festival of Shadows Online
Authors: Michael La Ronn
“How much do you have in your pockets?” Theo asked.
Still in shock from the cockroaches, Verona only shook her head.
Theo kept digging in her pockets, but he couldn’t find the slip of paper.
“Tell me the password, or I’ll send out the roach again.”
“It’s
f-fanny pack
!” Verona said. “Please, no!”
“Fanny pack, huh? Pretty creative.”
He left the funhouse, hearing Verona’s screams behind him.
“Someone help me! I’ll never come out again!”
Theo chuckled to himself as he ripped up the slip of paper.
As he left the circus grounds, Theo saw a large mansion on a hill overlooking the town. It was German-looking, with a brick and half-timber exterior. He had never seen such a huge mansion before.
He snuck toward the manor and came to a wrought-iron gate blocking the way. Grabbing a barrel from the alley, he climbed on top of it and threw himself over the gate.
The front lawn was manicured, and there was a fountain with a statue of a laughing clown’s face; water streamed from its eyes, but it was smiling.
He snuck around the side of the mansion, peeking in the windows as he went. There was nothing of interest inside—just fancy rooms with expensive decorations.
As he rounded the side of the house, bright light and heat suddenly surrounded him. Theo found himself standing in a library stacked wall-to-wall with old books.
How did I get in?
He stepped back and saw that the rear exterior of the mansion was missing, exposing the rooms. Here and there, teddy bear butlers moved throughout, dusting, cleaning, spraying, and waxing.
It’s a doll house.
He could hear Andersen in a bedroom on the second floor, snoring on his bed.
Theo entered the library again and listened at the door leading out. Hearing nothing on the other side, he opened it and snuck into the hallway. The shiny wood floor was slippery under his feet, and portraits of toys, painted in oil, hung unevenly along the walls. Beneath each portrait was a caption in plated gold.
One portrait showed a serious-looking futuristic robot with a star on his chest, crawler treads for feet, and a laser gun in both hands. The caption underneath the photo read (FORMER) MAYOR ROBO. A knife had been stuck in the painting where the robot’s face was.
He saw another portrait of a jack-in-the-box with legs. Its caption read (FORMER) MAYOR JACK, and a knife was stuck in his face, too.
All down the hall were portraits of different mayors with knives stuck in their faces, except for one at the end of the hall—Andersen’s.
In his portrait, Andersen stood against a black background with his arms folded like a gangster, half his face covered in shadow. Next to his picture hung a portrait of Stratus. Only his eyes were visible. The caption below read MAY HE LIVE FOREVER.
This place is creepy.
Theo climbed the stairs. Reaching the top, he heard a sound and hid behind a sculpture of a kazoo.
A portly teddy bear butler was waxing the floor by hand. He wore a black tuxedo with long coattails. He wasn’t an Ursabrand, and Theo despised him on sight.
“Oh my,” Oxley said. “I must have missed a spot.”
He inspected the top of the stairs. A bit of mud marked the otherwise shiny floor.
That’s from me.
“I must trace the source of this most unfortunate speck, lest the master chastise me.”
He followed the trail of mud that led toward Theo, but Theo pushed over the sculpture and hit Oxley in the head, knocking him out. He dragged the butler into a nearby closet, shut the door, and wedged the kazoo against the door so the butler couldn’t escape.
Andersen’s room should be down the hall.
Theo crept down the hallway, and as he did, he heard snoring; it was so loud that it shook the portraits on the walls.
He opened the door to Andersen’s room. The clown was sprawled across his bed. Snot hung from his nose, and it rose and fell with each snore.
Theo hid in the closet, thinking of his next move, when Andersen suddenly startled and burped in his sleep. A golden key flew out of his mouth and clattered across the floor.
“Darn it,” Andersen said, swiping up the key. He held it over his mouth like an anchovy and he swallowed it whole. Then he fell asleep again, snoring louder than before.
Great. How am I supposed to steal the key when he’s keeping it in his stomach?
There was a key ring on the desk next to Andersen’s bed, with several different shaped keys on it. Theo picked it off the desk and wrestled a bronze key off.
He crawled under the bed and waited for a huge snore. When Andersen sucked in air, Theo punched the bottom of the bed. The noise startled Andersen so badly that he burped the key onto the floor.
Theo grabbed a baseball that was under the bed and threw it in the direction of the door.
Andersen shot up and ran to the door. “Huh? What? Who?”
Theo snatched the real key off the floor and replaced it with the bronze key from the ring. Then he slipped under the bed again.
Andersen opened the door and looked out. Seeing no one, he yawned and grabbed the old key without even noticing the switch. He swallowed it and fell asleep again.
Theo snuck out of the mansion without being seen.
Theo returned to Gasket’s cell, and the dragon was still sleeping.
He unlocked the padlock with Andersen’s key.
The microphone shot in front of his face and asked, “What’s the password?”
“Fanny pack.”
The fingerprint scanner beeped at him several times, and alarms sounded.
Crap.
Alarms sounded, and Theo ran out of the building and hid in a nearby barrel.
Within minutes, Andersen and Ludwig hobbled up to the building.
“Who do you think it was, boss?” Ludwig asked. “You don’t think it was the gypsy caravan, do you?”
Andersen glanced around the square. “Don’t know. But let’s move him, just to be sure.”
They went into the jail and led Gasket out in chains. Andersen kicked him to spur him forward.
“C’mon,” he growled.
Theo ran from behind them and leaped onto Gasket’s neck. He turned the Whatsamadoozle into a sword and cut Gasket’s chains.
Andersen jumped three feet into the air at the sight of Theo. “Hey!”
Theo whispered into Gasket’s ear. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m here to save you. Bethany sent me.”
Gasket perked up at the mention of Bethany.
“So you’re the one sneaking around,” Andersen said.
“Get out of our way,” Theo said.
“You’re pretty sneaky. Why are you running around with those gypsies? We could use someone like you.”
“I don’t have time for you. Fly, Gasket! Fly!”
Gasket nodded, and he flapped his wings furiously; he blew fire at the clowns and sent them running for cover. Then Gasket lifted off into the air and hovered as he gained his balance.
Gasket took to the sky and the town shrank below them.
“Good job, pal,” Theo said. “I think we’re safe now.” He pointed in the direction of the festival grounds, far in the distance, and Gasket flapped his wings.
There was a roar behind them, and Theo looked back and saw another dragon rising into the sky. It looked like Gasket, but it was red, and its eyes glowed orange. Andersen was riding the dragon, and next to him flew Ludwig, with a propeller attached to his head.
“You have to be kidding me,” Theo said.
Gasket saw the clowns approaching and whimpered.
Andersen approached. “You aren’t going to get away. I’ve got a dragon of my own. Let’s go, Wheelie!”
“It’s okay,” Theo said, patting Gasket on the back. “Just listen to me and we’ll get through this.”
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Theo snuck down an alley until he reached the bazaar. The area was empty except for a merchant in the corner. He was a huge purple beet with leafy hair and horse teeth. He sat brooding atop his stand of junked toy parts.
He’s creepy.
The merchant looked up. “You there: come see what I have to offer.”
Theo stayed in the shadows, but the merchant kept talking.
“Stop hiding. I may be the poorest merchant in the Midnight Market, but I am not the dumbest.” He ran over, grabbed Theo, and dragged him to the stand. “What do you need, my friend? A necklace? I got this one from a doll that Stratus offed last night. A cymbal, mmm? How about expired aspirin? I snatched it from under a little boy’s bed many months ago. It’s still good, I assure you!”
“Leave me alone.”
“But you’ve got to buy something. I’m stuck in this god-forsaken place, and I need money to get home where I belong.”
“Where are you from?”
The merchant sighed. “You don’t have
any
money?”
Theo pulled out the golden coin that he found inside the church. “I’ll give it to you if you’ll help me.”
The merchant bowed at the sight of the coin, and when he saw the engraving on it, his eyes almost burned with passion. “You’re looking for a key, I assume.”
“How did you know that?”
“I know everything. And I’ve got just the thing for you!” He dug through his pile of junk. “A-ha! Here’s something!”
He pulled out a dusty book.
“That’s a book, not a key.”
“But look closer,” the merchant said. The book had a lock on the front cover; a key was taped to the inside of the cover. “I think this used to belong to the mayor. Too bad Stratus did him in. He was a nice guy, if a little cross when he drank apple juice at the tavern. They say this is his personal diary . . . but I wouldn’t know because I haven’t opened it. Who knows? Maybe there’s a clue about your key in there.”
Theo slapped the coin that he found earlier onto the stand. “I’ll give it a try.”
The merchant saluted Theo. “Good luck, my friend.”
Theo thumbed through the book, but it wasn’t a diary. It was a work of fiction, and it was about vegetables—of all things!
“This book is a rip-off,” Theo said. He whipped around, but the merchant was gone.
He tossed the book into the watermelon stand. He looked at the book again and shook his head. “Seriously, who would write a fantasy about vegetables? I just don’t get it. I should’ve gone to the tavern first.”
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“Get ’em!” Andersen shouted.
Ludwig flew forward and caught up to Theo and Gasket.
“You’re mine,” the clown said, reaching for Gasket’s tail.