Chapter 3 Esmeralda #2
Why not? This was the one thing she was good at, after all. And it was better to be the swindler than to be swindled. She’d learned that the hard way.
“Ready?” Gabriel asked.
She nodded.
He tucked himself behind the curtain where various pullies had been rigged. Gears began to grind and the main door to her wagon slowly opened, revealing a small but hopefully generous queue.
Gabriel’s voice, disguised through a loud-hailer, roared to life. “Come one, come all! Please, don’t despair. Come have your fate told by La Paloma Blanca, Fortune Teller Extraordinaire.”
“It’s about time,” someone grumbled.
Esmeralda’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before she put on her most dazzling smile.
When you become the lead act, you’ll never have to kiss any customers’ heinies for measly tips again, she told herself.
She’d once overheard Melanie the Marionette bragging that her monthly salary was twenty thousand silvers.
That was twice as much as Esmeralda had saved after ten months in the carnival.
No wonder Melanie left without a word. With that sort of loot, Esmeralda would probably disappear too.
“First in line may come through,” Gabriel’s voice boomed. “Just add a silver coin into the coin box before you do.”
A few voices objected. One person, a woman dressed as asparagus, left the queue altogether.
Esmeralda took a calming breath. She needed every silver coin if she wanted to add to her savings and pay Gabriel for all his help.
He always tried to refuse, since he made a good salary building haunts for the Fun House, but she never wanted to be in debt to anyone for anything.
The wagon swayed as her first customer clambered up. The clink of a lone piece of silver thunking into the empty coin box nearly gutted her. The man wore a black mask in the shape of a wolf. His bowler hat was tugged low down his forehead, almost to his snout.
Trying to be mysterious, I see.
The door swung shut with a thud. The man reached for something, most likely a weapon tucked inside his coat. Ah yes, he must be the bootlegger Gabriel spoke of. Esmeralda wasn’t afraid of some rudimentary thug. She’d been brought up by a far scarier man.
She lowered her voice to something husky and equally mysterious. “No need to fear, senor. It is only you and me in this wagon.” She raised her arm and fluttered her fingers. “And the spirits of course.”
The chandelier suddenly shook. A fun innovation Gabriel had come up with after she’d gone a week without a single customer.
Though, the first time he’d tried it, the entire thing crashed onto the table, spooking her customer so much that Esmeralda had to pay the customer for his troubles instead. Now, it seemed to be a fan favorite.
The bootlegger wasn’t impressed, however. He sat down unceremoniously. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
Why even come to a fortune teller’s booth if you’re going to be a bore? Being a bore goes against carnival rules anyway.
“What is it you wish to know?” she asked, smiling.
“Would you like to hear from a loved one? Is there a secret you want brought to light? Perhaps you wish to understand the comings and goings of the officers in the county? My guides have told me the prohibition laws are quite strict around these parts.”
His eyes pierced into her from behind his mask. “What did you say?” he growled.
She waved her hands over the crystal ball. “I only repeat what the spirits show me within this enchanted stone.”
He leaned forward, peering at the ball. “I don’t see nothing.”
Obviously, she wanted to say. But she held her annoyance back. “That is because you aren’t looking with your mind’s eye.”
She circled one hand over the crystal while the other pressed the hidden button once more. Swirling shadows danced within the sphere. To any onlooker, they might appear as whirling phantoms trapped inside.
Gabriel came up with this particular idea after he and Esmeralda had snuck into a real fortune teller’s shop while Carnival Fantástico was stopped in one of the larger cities in the south several months back.
Watching someone actually speak to souls from the Land of the Dead was rather interesting, especially when the king’s church proclaimed that all souls were reincarnated after death, and that the new lives they were given would be based on how well they served him in this one.
Esmeralda had never believed such a ridiculous notion and therefore happily lived her life spitting on King Amadeo’s portraits wherever she went.
She never spat on the queen’s portraits, though.
There was a steeliness in Queen Hermosa’s eyes that Esmeralda admired.
Plus, she’d heard the queen went around telling the court about her husband’s thumb-sucking habits.
Apparently, their arranged marriage wasn’t to her liking, and she tormented him whenever the opportunity presented itself, which was something Esmeralda couldn’t help but respect.
The bootlegger’s lips parted ever so slightly, and he leaned closer to the crystal ball.
Got him.
The chandelier rattled harder.
“The spirits are ready to communicate,” she said, fluttering her lashes. “Now, what would you like to know specifically?”
The bootlegger popped his knuckles. “Will this next shipment set me over the top?”
The crystal throbbed with orange light. “My guides wish for me to consult with the cards.”
When she was younger, she had seen a woman use cards in secret to help people find guidance. The woman had pulled several for Esmeralda the second she spotted her. None of them had been encouraging. But at least she’d learned some tricks.
She grabbed her deck and began to shuffle. She shut her eyes and spoke in a language she’d made up to sound more enigmatic. The table shook.
“What’s happening?” the man said.
“The spirits have much to say,” she whispered.
A burst of cold fluttered her hair. The man gasped.
“They are ready to answer your question,” she said. “Hold out your hand.”
The man did as he was asked. She placed the card onto his skin.
The enchanted ink needed contact with her customers to work.
Esmeralda hummed and the table rattled louder.
The air whipped harder, sending some of her deck flying.
Her eyes flicked to the curtain and narrowed.
Gabriel was using the wind machine too generously.
She pulled her attention back to the man in the wolf mask, who was practically salivating with excitement.
A smirk pulled at her lips. I’ve got you right where I want you.
She flipped the card over. The kaleidoscopic ink began to shift into the shape of a sleek-looking motorcar.
The front hood popped open, and cash tumbled out like a waterfall.
“The spirits have spoken,” she said. “You will enjoy your spoils and be greater than the ones who came before you.” She added for good measure, because she knew these sorts of men liked to hear these sorts of things, “You are untouchable.”
Elation sparked in his pupils. She didn’t need to see the face behind the wolf’s mask to know he was thoroughly pleased.
She glanced at the tip jar on the table. Now would be as good a time as ever to remind him it was there, waiting to be fed a few more silver coins, but it was the man who spoke first.
“You know, I had my bet cast on the strongwoman act.” He suddenly stood.
He dug his hand into his coat pocket before dropping a golden coin into the tip jar.
Esmeralda held in her gasp. That single coin was worth seventy silver ones.
She’d been so focused on it that she had missed what he’d just said.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” she asked sweetly.
“I said, I plan on switching my betting card and placing you right at the top. Who can compete with someone who speaks to spirits?” He turned and stomped toward the door, which was already opening. Over his shoulder, he growled, “Don’t disappoint me, birdie.”
Gabriel’s head popped out from around the curtain. “What is he talking about?” he mouthed.
She shook her head.
“What sort of bet has been cast?” Esmeralda called after the man.
But he was already gone, and the two young women she’d seen earlier in the evening were entering, giggling and holding each other’s arms.
Esmeralda grumbled at their happiness. Perhaps she’d read their fortunes and tell them their love was doomed. That love was a lie. But she was too practical for that. A happy customer always paid best.
When the final guest had been conned, Esmeralda grabbed her cloak and whirled it over her shoulders.
“Where are you going?” Gabriel asked as he greased the door pulley.
“To the Big Top,” she said. “If I’m to be the next lead act in Carnival Fantástico, I’ve got to study my competition.” Under her breath, she added, “So I can outsmart them.”