Festival of Shadows (45 page)

Braindon chuckled. “Your owner will discard you like trash. It will be gradual. First, you’ll see that he doesn’t pay attention to you, and you will gather dust. Then, many agonizing years later, a box will be your home, and you will end up here.”

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into a mallet. “I told you to be quiet.”

Braindon ignored him and continued. “And I want to be there the moment you have to decide between a lifetime of irrelevance or Stratus’s grace.”

“Never.”

“Then you will wander this world, and he will torture you for eternity. Don’t become trapped by your dreams, bear. Save yourself while you are still uninjured.”

Theo screamed and hit Braindon on the head with the mallet, not stopping until the alien was unconscious.

He stood over Braindon, breathing hard. “You talk too much,” he said.
 

Braindon’s body disappeared, leaving the ruined spaceship on the ground. A sprocket floated up and landed in Theo’s hand.
 

Braindon’s words had hurt him, but he couldn’t accept such a terrible prediction of his fate.
 

He didn’t have time to dwell. He remembered the caravan, and he once again turned the Whatsamadoozle into a propeller and flew toward the festival grounds.

THEO OBTAINED A SPROCKET!

If only there was a
Chain
to go with it . . .

WELL PLAYED, PLAYER!

You demonstrated mad skills in defeating Braindon at his own game.
 

As a reward, you get access to audio commentary of this book. In it, I talk about inspirations and cool things that you might find interesting if you’ve enjoyed the novel so far.
 

www.michaellaronn.com/festivalcommentary

Bookmark
this page to return later.
 

CHAPTER COMPLETE!

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“I knew you would lose,” Braindon said.
 

“Fine. You win. Now let me go.”

The transparent sheen on Braindon’s saucer vanished, and Braindon laughed. “The joke is on you. I was just a distraction.”

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into a giant claw, and he grabbed the saucer and slammed it several times until it broke into many pieces, and Braindon lay on the ground, clutching dirt. Theo felt the invisible hold on his legs disappear.

“I am a failure,” he said, holding his head down. His voice was singular and thin now that his saucer was broken. “I have allowed myself to believe lies. I was discarded by a child, and when I came here, I told myself that I could return to my place of origin.”

“I don’t have time for a therapy session,” Theo said, rolling his eyes. He started to walk away, but Braindon cried out to him.
 

“What will
you
do when it happens?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The moment you are jettisoned.”

“I’ll never be jettisoned.”

“You are a smart toy—almost as smart as me,” Braindon said. “But regardless of your potential, you will face the same fate.”

Theo balled his fists. “Be quiet.”

Braindon chuckled. “Your owner will discard you like trash. It will be slow. First, you’ll see that he doesn’t pay attention to you, and you will gather dust. Then, many agonizing years later, a box will be your home, and you will end up here.”

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into a mallet. “I told you to be quiet.”

Braindon ignored him and continued. “And I want to be there the moment that you have to decide between a lifetime of irrelevance or Stratus’s grace.”

“Never.”

“Then you will wander this world, and he will torture you for eternity. Don’t become trapped by your dreams, bear. Save yourself while you are still uninjured.”

Theo screamed and hit Braindon on the head several times with the mallet. He didn’t stop until the alien was unconscious.

He stood over Braindon, breathing hard. “You talk too much,” he said.
 

Braindon’s body disappeared, leaving the ruined saucer. A sprocket floated up and landed in Theo’s hand.
 

Braindon’s words had hurt him, and he didn’t know why. He couldn’t accept such a terrible prediction of his fate.
 

He didn’t have time to dwell. He remembered the caravan, and he once again turned the Whatsamadoozle into a propeller and flew toward the festival grounds.

CHAPTER COMPLETE!

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CHAPTER 8

No More Friends

Theo landed in the middle of the festival grounds and looked around frantically.
 

No one was there. All the attractions were overturned and broken.
 

I’m too late.
 

He searched the area—the midway, where he could smell the fresh paint from the broken stands; the carousel, with its smashed mirrors; and the big top, its shredded canvas flapping in the wind.
 

Sadness welled up inside him as the reality set in. He turned the Whatsamadoozle into a mallet and smacked the rubble of a nearby booth.

“I let them down,” he said, smashing the booth even further. “They were my friends. They were trying to help me, even if it was in their own strange way. They’re going to suffer now because of me.” He fell to his knees, panting. “First Shawn, then Grant, and now them. Why can’t I protect anyone?”

A blast struck him in the back and he flew across the midway.
 

“Ow . . .”

Jiskyl, the old catfish, stepped from behind the big top and approached Theo, scowling.
 

“Imagine my surprise,” Jiskyl said. “I came to see how the festival was coming along—the very festival that you, dear sir, agreed to make successful—and I looked around and found no one, except for you. You killed them!”

Theo jumped to his feet, but the Whatsamadoozle was lying on the ground near Jiskyl. The old fish picked it up and put it in his pocket. “You lied to me,” he said as his hands glowed. “You killed good toys, the only good ones left in the Stratusphere.”

“It’s not what you think,” Theo said. “It
is
my fault, but I didn’t kill them.”

“No more lies!” Jiskyl said, knocking Theo into a carny stand with another blast. “You may report to Stratus, but that ends now. I will destroy you just like you destroyed that booth a minute ago.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “You don’t understand—”

Jiskyl’s hands glowed again, and Theo knew he couldn’t take another hit.
 

“Stop,” Theo said, wheezing. “I want to find them.”

“They’re dead!”

“But did you see them die?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter. You killed them!”

“But if you didn’t see them, how do you know they’re dead?”

“Well, where are they, then?”

There was silence between them, and out of the shadows of the night came a steamy whistle, soft and distant.
Choo choo . . .

Jiskyl ran to the edge of the grounds and gasped. A set of railroad tracks glowed, pulsing rainbow colors. They stretched into the distance, through the valley and into the mountains toward the castle.
 

“If you’re telling the truth,” Jiskyl said, “they must be aboard that train, wherever it is. Who knows how long ago it left?”

Jiskyl returned the Whatsamadoozle, and Theo turned it into a propeller.
 

“I have to save them.”

Jiskyl wrinkled his face at Theo. “I still don’t trust you.”

“I don’t need your trust.”

Theo took off into the sky and followed the tracks, leaving Jiskyl staring after him.
 

CHAPTER COMPLETE!

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Chapter 9

Big Trouble on the Little Choo Choo

Theo descended through the clouds toward a red train chugging down the tracks. The engine spouted a gray column of steam and pulled a passenger car, a freight car, and a caboose.
 

I don’t know why, but I know they’re there.
 

He landed on the caboose. The fields of the Stratusphere zoomed by as the train picked up speed. There was a cupola on the roof, and the car’s windows were ajar. Theo peeked inside.

The caboose was sumptuously decorated, with brocaded wallpaper, a chandelier that jangled occasionally from the ceiling, and several mahogany booths.
 

At a table in the middle of the car, three clowns played cards. Ludwig and Verona were joined by a muscular clown with a barrel chest wearing a Hawaiian shirt with parrots painted on it. A toy cigar with a glowing tip protruded from his mouth, and his hands were the size of ham hocks.
 

Great. I thought I finished them off a long time ago.

“Lud, gimme your queens,” the muscular clown said. His voice was croaky.

“Go fish,” Ludwig said, giggling.
 

“Where are we headed, anyway?” the muscular clown asked, studying his hand of cards.
 

Verona drew a card from the deck. “To the castle. We’re going to deliver these toys and take the reward. Weren’t you paying attention to the boss, Beasley?”

“I was busy running this train. It’s hard work—something you two ain’t used to.”

“Bless Shaggy’s heart,” Ludwig said. “If he hadn’t led that annoying teddy bear away, we never would’ve been able to nab the caravan. Now we’re gonna be rich.”

“Yeah, I hated that bear,” Verona said. “But who cares? Shaggy’s probably killed him by now.”

“Hopefully,” Ludwig said. “Did you see the shape of his head? Ha ha, I could tell jokes about him all night!”

Theo scowled.
 

“His head was so small, it would have made a shrunken head jealous.”

Verona rolled her eyes, and Beasley said, “Jesus.”

Ludwig slapped the table. “Come on, that was kind of funny.”

Beasley shook his head. “No offense, but that was crap.”

“Why?”

Beasley stared at Ludwig, incredulous. “Here’s what you should have said: ‘His head was so little, it’s a wonder he has a brain.’ That’s a better basis for a joke. You can build upon it. You can paint a picture for the audience, then maybe move on to his other body parts, or tell an anecdote to support your leading joke. It’s Comedy 101, Lud. You can’t use that shrunken head garbage—they’d laugh you out of the big top. But hey—not all of us can major in jokes.”

“So you’re telling me that you’re the king of comedy now?”

“I wouldn’t call myself the king, but I don’t know what you’d call
yourself.
”

“How dare you, you onion-headed poochyfud!”

Beasley held up his hand to shut Ludwig up. “You’re lucky I don’t knock you out of this caboose.”

Ludwig ripped off his arm and swung it at Beasley. Beasley flipped over the table, but Verona jumped between them. “Aren’t we supposed to be celebrating? If the boss catches us fighting, he’ll disconnect the caboose!”

Theo suppressed a laugh.
Great idea.

He crept to the front of the caboose and dropped between it and the next car, where the coupling was. He looked through the window; Ludwig, Verona, and Beasley were still arguing.

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into a mallet and smacked the coupling several times, but it wouldn’t budge. Each smack made a chinking noise.

The clowns were so busy arguing that they didn’t notice the sound, but Theo heard footsteps coming from the roof of the car in front of him. Peeping onto the roof, Theo saw another muscular clown. He wore thick metal boots, and he looked as if he could squash Theo if he stepped on him.
 

“Hey!” The clown spotted him and called down.
 

I’m vulnerable down here.

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into a propeller, flew up, and landed on the roof.

“You’re that teddy bear the boss talked about,” the clown said.
 

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into an electric whip.

“He gave us orders to rip you apart,” the clown said, lunging toward him.

Theo cracked the whip, and the clown jumped back and pulled out an orange pistol. He pulled the trigger, but instead of a bullet, a flag with the word OOPS popped out.
 

“Sounds right to me,” Theo said.

The clown blushed.

CRACK! ZZZT!

Theo smacked him, and the whip shocked the clown out of his metal boots. He sailed into the air and crashed into a field as the train left him behind.
 

Theo kicked the boots over and said, “That was easy.”

“What was that?” cried a voice.
 

It was Beasley, and he was climbing to the top of the car.
 

Theo turned the Whatsamadoozle into a boomerang and threw it toward the caboose; it flew far, and then curved upward and back toward him.