Come Inside by Jaidyn Groth - Volume 5

A young girl awakes to find her brother stolen away in the night by a travelling circus. To save him from the dark and mysterious magic, she must brave the circus and the creatures who call it home.

Come Inside by Jaidyn Groth, featured in Volume 5 of Tales From Netherün.

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Content Warnings: Child endangerment, mild peril

The circus tent was alone on the field. Surrounding trees grew tall and wide; ancient warriors guarding this vacant clearing. The crops had been cleared away after the fires during the final month of tosamne, when the air was dry, the sun vicious and the grass vulnerable. Juna knew it was only a matter of time before the weather turned and this forest would be knee deep with sudden water and debris. Creatures from beneath the ground would make an unwelcome appearance, teeth bared and eyes hungry and no one would be allowed out after dark again. 

But for now, she was safe under the stars. Except for the tent. 

How could Tio be so stupid? She’d warned him. Told him not to listen to the boys under the bridge. But Tio had a curious mind and a desperate need to seek out answers. So, of course, when Juna had woken up and seen his bed empty, she’d known that he’d left in the middle of the night and journeyed through the whispering forest, ignoring the jibes and jests of the trees, all so he could see if the tent was real�"if the magical circus had finally come to Hynne. 

An inquisitive breeze whipped around Juna, urging her forward. She heard the words from the forest on the tail of the wind and shook her head free of its lure. She wasn’t here for that. She needed to find Tio. 

Walking towards the tent felt like a dare. She silently cursed the boys under the bridge for spreading lies and stories about the circus. With each step through the charcoal and ash field, she thought of ways she would punish them for tricking Tio. Everyone knew the circus was more than lights and magic. Everyone knew that people who went to the circus never seemed to come home. 

Ahead of Juna, the small tent glowed red. Through the single flap, an effervescent golden light wove towards her, seeking her out like the wind. 

She was doing this for Tio, she reminded herself as the light caught her trousers. Goosebumps pebbled her bare arms and she swallowed. It was strange, the feeling that passed over as she reached for the tent flap. It was as if she was finding something she’d always searched for. Like a wish was being granted. A dream realised. 

She pulled back the flap and stepped inside. 

It was colour she saw first. Colour and chaos. Then her ears exploded with the sound of drums. And fiddles. And the whistle of a stray pipe. 

The circus was larger than she expected. Bigger than it should have been. Wilder than any rumour she’d ever heard. From the outside, the tent was barely big enough to fit a few people. Inside, it stretched and shivered as it shrouded hundreds and hundreds of visitors and performers. Above her head, nethered people swung from one platform to the next. Several had remarkable similarities to cats and reminded Juna of the family of strays that lived by the river. Others had horns or bluish skin. Juna was transfixed watching them swing and flip and somersault through the air, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the tent below. 

To her left, a tunnel of brightly lit stalls wove in and out so that if she looked through the middle, she couldn’t quite see where they ended. Vendors did parlour tricks; some turning paper to flame in an instant and others magicked a coin from behind someone’s ear. If any were actual artificers, Juna couldn’t tell. She’d only met one artificer and he’d been a cruel old man with one dark eye and one light. She shivered at the memory just as someone collided with her shoulder and sent her tumbling into the closest stall. 

‘Oy!’ hissed the vendor. 

She turned to apologise, but when she did, the vendor’s face blurred until it was nothing more than a mask of black where a face should’ve been. Swallowing, Juna stepped away from the stall and backed into another. 

‘Care to see your future?’ a voice whispered like honeysuckle and mint. 

Behind her, a hand of bone and gold crept towards her from beneath a cloak of black and she flinched away from the touch. 

Everywhere, people pushed and shoved and laughed and cried and some reached for her and others shied away and music rang out and pockets of silence enveloped her and all the while, Tio was lost in here somewhere and the circus would never give him back and she couldn’t breathe. 

‘Juna.’

From the back of the circus, behind fire-breathers, sword-swallowers, cats who spun and danced and tall men with long beards and tired eyes, Tio’s voice echoed. 

‘Juna.’

Juna spun, searching for her brother’s tuft of dark brown curls. ‘Tio? Where are you?’

‘Come find me.’

Tio’s juvenile voice was full of mischief and Juna knew she should stop playing. She never won at these games. Tio was too clever despite being five years younger than she. She’d spent the better part of her life chasing him through Hynne, trying to keep up with his riddles and stories, but he always bested her. 

Her heart squeezed. If she didn’t play this game, she might not have another chance. He could lose himself in the dark and she’d never see him again.

With the smell of citrus and pastry and something like vanilla filling her nose and drowning out rational thought, Juna decided she’d play Tio’s game. And this time she’d win. 

Pushing passed a man with a smile of sharpened teeth, Juna clenched her fists so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. Good. Pain would keep her focused. She had to stay focused. She had to find Tio. She had to find�"

‘Your future, dear?’ whispered that honeysuckle and mint voice and even though she was a few stalls away, the voice brushed her ear… as if lips were caressing her skin. 

She dug her nails in deeper. ‘No,’ she said aloud to no one and continued to push through the crowd. 

Cackles filled the air all around her, soft at first, until it was as if everyone was laughing. Visitors and performers alike leered at Juna as she fumbled through the crowds, searching for her younger brother’s face. But it wasn’t Tio she saw. It was hundreds of unfamiliar faces, each blurring as her eyes settled on them, making it hard to focus. Even if they were right in front of her, they seemed to wobble, like the lines around them couldn’t commit to existence. 

Was this what the circus did to people? The boys under the bridge spoke of spells and fun and magic, but the adults had whispered of lost souls and faceless creatures and children stolen from their beds. Juna swallowed the lump in her throat and pressed on.

Someone with a cold stare stepped into her path.

‘Hello,’ the man said and in an instant, his blurred face transformed. In place of his nose and mouth was a long hooked beak. The man’s cool blue eyes darkened and darkened until they were so black that Juna thought she’d fall right into them and never come out. ‘Do you want to come with me?’

Something icy settled in Juna’s bones and she shook her head furiously. 

Look away, she told herself. Don’t look at him. 

But how could she stop looking at the man who looked like a bird? How could she continue on when she had so many questions and almost everything in her was begging her to stay put?

Stay. 

Stay.

Stay. 

‘Come find me, Juna.’

‘Excuse me,’ Juna muttered and as the words left her mouth, she felt the hold on her break. Stepping around the bird man, she kept her eyes on the ground until she was sure she was safe from his intense stare. Until she was certain she wouldn’t lose herself to whatever stalked behind the bird man’s eyes. When she turned back around, the man was gone. 

‘Tio!’ she called out, but where every other sound rang loud and deafening, her voice was small and weak. She tried again, but this time, the words lodged in her throat. Coughing, she clutched at her neck. The words were in there, half-formed and desperate to be free but they wouldn’t come. 

‘Let me tell you your future, girl,’ came that voice again. 

Around her, people swam and blurred and her eyes hurt from looking at them and her lungs screamed as breathing became as hard as lighting a fire with wet wood and there was that bird man again and she couldn’t speak and what was this place and where was TIO?

‘Breathe, sweetheart,’ said no one and everyone all at once. 

Juna took a gasping breath of air. She could taste vanilla on her tongue as she did, or she thought it was vanilla. Perhaps it was something else. 

The crowd cheered as a nethered acrobat flipped in the air and landed on a tightrope high above their heads. Looking up, Juna thought for a moment that the circus tent took a deep breath. 

She needed to get out of here. 

Opening her mouth to call out for her brother, she thought better of it and continued on. Several times, as she shuffled down the endless tunnel of vendors, she thought she spotted the bird man, but she would blink and he would vanish. 

Time passed and Juna’s legs grew tired and her throat ached. She couldn’t see or hear Tio and it seemed as if she’d only walked five feet. Every time she was sure she’d almost made it to the end of the stalls, she’d turn and find herself back at the start. Fury and impatience willed her to continue, but the longer she stayed, the more she found herself smiling and gaping in wonder at the dancers and sorcerers. The colours were spectacular and the performers were magnificent and perhaps that fire-breather would teach her that trick if she asked nicely enough. 

‘Juna.’

‘Your future, dear?’ someone asked and this time, Juna smiled and turned to face a small, aged woman. 

‘Yes, please,’ Juna said.

This woman, like everyone else, shimmered around the edges. Moments ago, Juna would’ve tripped over trying to run away, but now, she enjoyed the way this woman glittered. Why had she been trying to get away? What was so scary about a shiny old woman?

With frail, clawed fingers, the woman in question held out five cards before Juna. Face down, the cards were decorated with intricate gold lining. The lines twisted together into a pattern she didn’t recognise, but if she squinted, she was positive it was some kind of creature. 

‘Pick one.’ The woman shook the cards to punctuate her point. 

Nodding, Juna let her hand settle over the cards. Maybe she imagined it. Maybe it was the pulse of the chaos and frenzy inside the circus. It didn’t matter. She was sure she felt a thrum from the middle card. She pulled it out with ease and raised it up to her face. 

It was Tio.

‘What is this?’ Juna breathed. Her brother’s face was distorted into a mask of terror and his eyes had been blackened by ash. ‘I don’t understand.’

The woman cocked her head. ‘Your future, dear.’

Shaking her head, Juna handed back the card, feeling the pleasure and excitement leave her. The shimmering dulled and the woman’s face became smoke and shadow. A cackle rose up from everywhere and nowhere, enveloping Juna, suffocating her. 

Tio, Tio, Tio, she chanted to herself as laughter blurred her senses. I’m so sorry. Maybe I’m too late. 

And maybe she was. She was only a child. What did she think she could do to save Tio against this place? Against this sinister vision that vanished as quickly as it appeared? Against this legend turned real that whispered of thrills, but left only pain in its wake? Maybe she was too late to save Tio from becoming another lost child.

No.

‘TIO!’ Juna shouted and the laughter ceased. She took several steps away from the shadow woman, feeling a surge of strength in her body.

Behind her, the bird man materialised for a moment before disappearing into thin air�"as if he’d crossed from one plain to the next. Juna didn’t understand. This place, whatever it looked like, was far more sinister than she’d ever guessed. The boys under the bridge had spoken of lights and magic and beauty. They’d said the circus was full of fun and excitement. Tio had been tempted by those lies. Juna, too, if she was being honest. But now, surrounded by people who changed faces as easily as flipping a page in a book, she wanted nothing more than to leave and never come back. 

But first, she had to find Tio. 

‘TIO!’ 

All through the tent, Juna ran and shouted and ran and shouted and pleaded and cried and maybe if she yelled louder he would hear her and what if it was too late and he was already in trouble and maybe he’d disappear into thin air like that bird man and she’d never find him again and what would she do? 

He was all she had. 

‘Breathe,’ nobody said. 

Juna took an unsteady breath. She was at the beginning of the tent tunnel again. Frustration boiled in her veins. 

‘Breathe.’

Her next breath was clearer. Stronger. And just as she prepared herself to sprint through the tent and push past these creatures of mischief and madness, she saw a tuft of dark brown curls. 

‘TIO!’ she called, but her brother didn’t stop. Instead, he darted in and out of the stalls, sprinting passed jugglers and people with painted faces. Juna raced after him, narrowly avoiding a cage of purple toads and one large black crow. The crow screamed as she ran past and the sound was so human and so afraid that Juna almost stopped.

‘Juna, come catch me.’ 

‘I’m coming, Tio,’ she whispered. 

‘Over here. No, this way. You’re not listening to me. This way. Yes, come on, Juna.’

Something pulled at the back of her mind. Something told her that this was off. That Tio sounded strange. Different. Wrong. But as the tent took another breath, she willed herself to continue on.

Between tight spaces and furry creatures, over crates of smoking glasses and under tables laden with potions and knick knacks, Juna followed her brother’s voice until she finally emerged from the endless tunnel of stalls and into a huge amphitheatre. A huge field stretched out in front of her, surrounded by rows and rows of seats, each filled with faceless people who hummed quietly to themselves. From the roof, dancers spun and tumbled, tangled in multi-coloured fabric. They were beautiful; each movement so graceful that Juna couldn’t look away. But she had the unsettling feeling that no one else was watching them. No, she had the eerie sensation that everyone’s eyes were on her. 

Behind her, the tunnel of vendors went silent. 

‘Come over here, Juna,’ said Tio. 

Juna walked across the field, keeping her eyes trained on the shadow at the far end of the amphitheatre. From so far away, she couldn’t tell what it was, but everything in her told her to keep moving. Keep going. Get to Tio. 

‘Almost there.’ 

The humming from the audience grew louder. 

‘You’ve almost got me, Juna.’

The shadow twisted in front of her, slowly taking shape. 

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. Where was Tio? She needed to leave. They needed to leave right now. This was�"

The humming grew. 

The shadow twisted. 

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The humming…

Leave.

Louder. 

Louder. 

Lou�"

It stopped. 

And in front of Juna, the shadow settled in the shape of a grey door. 

‘I’m inside, Juna,’ said Tio from the other side of the door. 

Fear bubbled in her chest and she looked from the ominous door in front of her to the crowd watching her every move. Even the dancers had frozen above her head, their blurred faces staring down at her. 

Stepping around the door, Juna saw that there was nothing on the other side except the rest of the field and more and more seats filled with faceless people. Surely, if she opened the door, she’d be stepping right out on the other side. 

‘Come inside, Juna,’ said Tio. 

She couldn’t go home without Tio. She couldn’t leave without him. She had to be brave. She had to open the door and go inside. And when she finally found Tio, she would make sure he never did something like this again. They would go home and she would make him lettuce tea and tell him a happy bedtime story and in the morning she would yell at the boys under the bridge for being so stupid and everything would be okay. It would be okay. 

‘Come inside.’

She opened the door. Emptiness greeted her�"a shroud of darkness and space. A hand reached for her, made of gold and bone. It stopped a breath away from her, waiting. 

‘Come on, Juna.’

Something murmured behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she found the circus almost empty. Every seat was vacant and instead of light and noise from the stalls, there was a silence that spread like a chill. 

And alone on the field was the bird man. 

Juna swallowed.

‘Juna,’ Tio said and when she turned, she saw his face, hazy and shrouded in darkness. 

‘I’m coming,’ she murmured and stepped inside. 

Tio awoke in his bed. He’d been dreaming of claws and teeth again. Sitting up, he looked over to the other bed on the far side of the room. It was a small room at the back of the house and he knew that Juna didn’t like sharing, but he liked knowing she was there. It was especially good on night’s like tonight when he could still feel teeth on his skin and the hot breath of a scary creature against his neck. 

‘Juna?’ he whispered, squinting at her bed. ‘Juna, I had a bad dream.’

She didn’t reply. 

He couldn’t stay in his bed by himself. He had to get to Juna. She gave the best hugs anyway. She’d make him feel better. 

Holding his breath as he swung his legs over the bed, he began creeping across the wooden floorboards until he reached Juna.

‘Juna,’ he whispered. ‘I had the dream again. Juna?’

He pushed at the blanket on the bed, waiting for the groan from his older sister. But it never came. For, what he’d thought was Juna’s body tangled in bedsheets, was merely empty air. 

His sister was gone.