Midnight Reynolds and the Phantom Circus Read online

  “Yes,” the crowd thundered back, so loud it seemed like the floor was shaking.

  “I can’t hear you.” Carlo raised his arms in the air like a conductor.

  This time, everyone stood and cheered as the ringmaster gave a dramatic sweep of his hands and spurts of flames rose from the ground. They were accompanied by the bang, bang, bang of a drum as the performers stepped into action.

  A gymnast ran around the ring doing cartwheels, while a pair of acrobats bounced up and down on the trampolines. There seemed to be something happening in every part of the stage. Then the ringmaster blew a whistle and the performers retreated, leaving only the knife-thrower and her terrified-looking assistant.

  “Let the show begin,” Carlo said as the woman threw a knife high in the air.

  The metal blade flashed as it spun several times before she caught it by the handle. Then she gave the crowd a wolfish grin and began her act.

  The next hour was a blur of excitement as one act after another came out, showing skills, flexibility, and stamina.

  “This is pretty cool,” Tabitha murmured as the blue-haired clown they’d seen earlier stepped into the ring.

  His eyes and mouth were highlighted with dripping makeup, and a grotesque smile was painted onto his face. He was wearing an old checked suit with wide legs and a black-and-white shirt underneath.

  He gave the audience a shy wave as he tripped and shuffled his way to a wooden platform not far from the VIP area. The audience laughed at his awkward progress.

  The laughter increased as a burst of flames rose up from the ground, and the clown tumbled back in mock surprise. He righted himself and pretended to sniff the flames, much to the crowd’s delight.

  He picked up a baton from the ground and thrust it into the flames until it was lit. Then he fumbled and dropped the flaming baton before finally holding it high in the air.

  “I think he’s going to eat it.” Midnight gulped as Mr. Wilson leaned forward in his chair. This was obviously one of the acts he’d been asked to check.

  On cue, the clown lowered the flaming baton toward his face. The audience sucked in their collective breath as he did his fire-eating act, finally pulling the baton out of his mouth and grinning.

  The big top erupted in applause, and he once again held the flaming baton in the air as he took a bow.

  Midnight was about to clap when a low buzz rang in her ears. It was as if hundreds of bees had suddenly been let loose. Except she knew all too well there were no bees. Whenever she heard the noise, it meant only one thing.

  Spectral energy was nearby.

  Goose bumps traveled up her arm. If the energy was trapped for too long, it would turn into planodiume, and she was the only one who could stop it.

  So much for a quiet summer. She jumped to her feet as a splinter of blinding light ripped through the big top. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t good…

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Are you okay?” Tabitha asked, her eyes studying Midnight’s face, trying to figure out what she was seeing.

  “No.” Midnight shook her head. “There’s something wrong with—”

  The buzzing increased, and jagged splinters of golden light ripped through the big top and speared straight down to the clown, engulfing him like a blazing halo. A silent scream caught in Midnight’s throat as the blinding light darkened into a sickening black fog.

  A sickening fog that only she could see.

  Damp decay clogged her nostrils as tendrils of darkness danced and swirled around the clown, glittering like obsidian.

  Something sharp and sibilant hissed through the air and then snapped back, a violent cracking noise ringing out around the tent. She scanned the tent, but there was no sign of whatever had made the noise. Only the blank faces of the audience, unaware of the chaos happening all around them.

  A shower of golden sparks mushroomed out across the ceiling. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the raging fog swirled up through the spire at the center of the tent, as if being sucked out by a vacuum.

  Midnight pressed her glasses farther up her nose. Usually planodiume only disappeared if she used one of her weapons to release it. So where had it gone?

  “Something’s wrong?” Tabitha’s face drained of color. “Like what?”

  The clown continued to wave, oblivious to what had just happened. But, as he turned to face the VIP area, she finally saw his eyes.

  They were blazing with liquid gold, his mouth slack and his expression blank.

  In the last nine months she’d seen a lot of crazy things. Melting artifacts, flying ghost daggers, and an old woman who’d lived to be one hundred and fifty—all because of misused spectral energy. But she’d never seen anyone’s eyes turned to gold before.

  “It’s some kind of spectral energy,” Midnight told Tabitha. “But different—”

  Before she could finish, the clown crumpled to the ground as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. The burning baton fell from his hand and the entire platform he’d been standing on erupted into flames, sending up rippling shades of orange and yellow heat.

  The crowd was silent.

  Mr. Wilson raced to the center of the ring and dragged the unconscious clown away from the fire. Two firemen appeared with extinguishers to put the flames out. They were joined by a team of medics carrying a stretcher and a large equipment bag.

  Over the din, a panicked Carlo used a loudspeaker to reassure the audience everything was okay as ushers directed people out of the tent in an orderly fashion.

  The arid stench of burning wood caught in Midnight’s nose.

  “What about my dad?” Tabitha’s face was paler than normal as the ushers tried to lead them out.

  “I’m fine, Tab. I promise.” Mr. Wilson jogged over and put a reassuring hand on his daughter’s arm. “Go outside. The boys have everything under control, but I need to assess what happened. I’ll call your mom and Midnight’s parents so they can pick you up. The circus is finished for the day.”

  “Okay.” Tabitha nodded, and the pair of them followed the trail outside. Night had begun to fall, and crowds of people huddled together staring at the tent, the faint stench of smoke still hanging in the air.

  The carnival music that’d been playing all day had been switched off, and the lights from the many rides and amusements had stopped flashing, leaving the place in eerie silence.

  “I can’t believe that just happened.” Midnight shivered as people pushed past them, all heading in the direction of the parking lot.

  “I don’t even know what happened.” Tabitha’s voice was still shaky. “Did you see something?”

  “P-planodiume,” Midnight stammered. “But it was different. The clown was covered in light. Then, before he collapsed, his eyes turned golden.”

  “I’ve never read about that happening. Was there anything else?”

  Midnight nodded. “There was a noise. Like lightning or hissing energy, followed by a crack. Did you hear it?”

  “No. And why weren’t we notified?” Tabitha’s brow furrowed, and she dragged her Ping out of her purse. Confusion flickered in her eyes. “There’s no planodiume here. Whatever you saw has gone.”

  “But where’s it gone?” Midnight closed her eyes and tried not to panic. It was hard. Because it was her job to find it before anyone else got hurt.

  “Are you okay?” her mom asked an hour later as Midnight climbed into the restored 1955 Ford that her new stepfather, Phil Lockwood, drove. Her mom and Phil had been at the movies, so Midnight had gone back with Tabitha until she could be picked up.

  “Yeah. The firemen put the blaze out quickly.” Midnight waved goodbye to Tabitha, who was standing at the front gate. And although she didn’t speak, her look clearly said: Call me as soon as you hear back from Peter Gallagher.

  Midnight nodded in silent acknowledgment as Phil pulled out onto the street. Peter Gallagher was the head of the Agency for Spectral Protection. He was also her boss, and she hoped he’d have som
e answers for her.

  “Do they know how the fire happened?” Phil asked, his eyes ahead on the road. On the weekends he liked to dress up as a Viking, but during the week, he stuck to the present century, so he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Though, with his long beard and sideburns, he still looked to Midnight like a Viking.

  “The torch the clown was holding fell onto the platform. But Mr. Wilson said it shouldn’t have been enough for the platform to catch fire. That’s why he closed the circus down to make sure everything’s okay,” Midnight said. But she wasn’t so sure herself that everything was okay.

  If the torch hadn’t started the fire, did that mean planodiume had?

  And where had the planodiume gone? In her experience, it didn’t just disappear.

  She leaned back against the seat. So many questions. So few answers.

  “Such a pity,” her mom said. “I was speaking to that lovely woman who runs the organic store, and she told me this is the first time Cirque Fantastic has visited Berry in over a century. I hope they don’t take this fire as a bad sign.”

  “I’m sure that won’t happen.” Phil turned right at the lights. “John Wilson’s a first-class fire chief. He’ll get to the bottom of this, and then it’ll be business as usual.”

  “I hope so,” her mom said. Midnight wasn’t sure she agreed. Of course she wanted the circus to be open so she could enjoy it. After all, she was on her summer break. But if someone was misusing planodiume, it would be safer for everyone if the circus was shut down.

  Midnight looked out the window of the Ford. Why were they going past their turnoff? She furrowed her brow as Phil took another right and then pulled into the parking lot of Cookies and Cakes.

  The café had opened just after Christmas, and she’d taken to thinking of it as her and Logan’s place. They’d been there ten times now—and yes, she might’ve tracked those visits in her spreadsheet.

  Each time, they’d sat in the corner booth splitting a brownie and talking about their favorite books. It had also been where he’d officially asked her to be his girlfriend. She could still see his smile, and the way his eyes had nervously scanned her face when he’d asked her. As if unsure of how she was going to answer. It had been one of the greatest days of her life.

  Then she frowned. It might be her happy place, but it wasn’t somewhere her vegan mom ever came to.

  In fact, it was the polar opposite to the vegan café her mom was in the process of setting up. Something was fishy.

  Midnight leaned forward and stared at the back of her mom’s head. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

  “No reason,” her mom said as Phil switched off the engine. “We just thought it would be a nice way to unwind. Especially after the fire.”

  “O-kay. But you do know they don’t serve green juice, right?” Midnight said in a cautious voice, well aware of her mom’s thoughts on refined sugar. Then she widened her eyes. “Is this for market research?”

  “Of course not,” her mom said before suddenly coughing. “I mean yes. That’s right. Market research. After all, my own café’s opening in less than a month. Besides, I thought it’d be fun. Unless you have something else planned?”

  You mean like looking for the missing planodiume?

  Like stopping people from getting hurt?

  Like waiting for Peter Gallagher to call back?

  “No.” Midnight forced herself to stop thinking about her job. Thankfully, over the last nine months she’d gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing her life.

  Of course it had become easier now that Tabitha and Logan were in on her secret. Because hiding it from her friends had led to a whole lot of misunderstandings. She’d also told her seventeen-year-old sister about her special abilities, after they’d rescued her from her crazy ex-boyfriend who’d tried to kill them all using planodiume.

  Midnight had even been tempted to tell her mom about her ghost-hunting job, but Taylor had talked her out of it. And she’d been right.

  If their mom knew Midnight faced mortal danger on a daily basis, she’d probably ground her for the next hundred years, and by default, she’d probably ground Taylor too.

  The whole situation wasn’t ideal, but at least her spreadsheets had helped. A separate cell for every problem.

  She got out of the car to follow her mom and Phil into Cookies and Cakes. It would be weird to be here with them, but she wasn’t the kind of girl to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when that gift horse was chocolate-flavored.

  “You probably won’t need your backpack.” Her mom eyed the bulging bag Midnight had hooked over her shoulder.

  She gulped and tightened her grip on the purple straps.

  In it was one of the smaller carbonic resonators she used to release spectral energy, as well as her Ping. It was one thing to compartmentalize her life, but it was another thing to walk around without any protection. Especially in light of what had just happened at the circus.

  “Actually, it’s probably better to take it in with her,” Phil said in his mild voice as he put an arm around her mom’s slim shoulder. “There’ve been a few break-ins recently. I’ve had three damaged cars come into the garage in the past week. Better safe than sorry.”

  “I had no idea. I guess we all need to be careful these days,” her mom said as they walked into the brightly lit café.

  A cute pale-pink sign hung in the window, and the decor was white and modern with pale wooden chairs and tables. The scent of vanilla and sugar hung in the air. Midnight’s mouth watered.

  A long cabinet ran along the counter with a seemingly never-ending selection of cakes and cookies, all the colors of the rainbow. She searched out her favorite double fudge with vanilla frosting and let out a happy sigh. Still three slices left.

  “So, Midnight, what will it be?” Phil’s gaze drifted from the pecan pie over to a plate of red velvet cupcakes. Midnight pointed out her cake while Phil settled on the pie. Her mom ordered a pot of herbal tea, and they headed to a table.

  “You might as well tell me what’s going on,” Midnight said once they were settled.

  “Honey, there’s nothing going on,” her mom said a little too quickly as she tapped the table with her fingers, her silver rings gleaming. “I’ve just been so busy setting up the café and organizing our very first summer solstice party that I didn’t want you to feel neglected. Think of this as quality time together.”

  “Um, thanks,” Midnight said.

  “Don’t be silly.” Her mom pushed back one of her blond curls and let out a soft sigh. “Though, as it happens, there is something we wanted to discuss with—”

  “Phil! Maggie! Oh, and look, it’s Midnight.” A voice roared from across the café as a tall man with a red beard and long red hair hanging down his back in a braid walked toward them. Jerry Van Meek was part of Phil’s Viking reenactment society. He was closely followed by several other off-duty Vikings. Midnight recognized them from her mom’s wedding, though now, as they clambered around the table, she realized just how noisy they were.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” one of them boomed. “We’d planned to go to the circus, but it was canceled so we thought we’d stop by here. Mind if we join you?”

  Her mom exchanged a small glance with Phil, so miniscule that Midnight doubted anyone else had seen it. Then Phil nodded and held out his hands.

  “The more, the merrier,” he said just as the server appeared with the cake, pie, and drinks.

  Midnight let out a relieved sigh. Whatever her mom wanted to discuss must’ve been serious considering she was using cake for bribery, but right now Midnight had enough to deal with.

  So while the rest of the group talked about the upcoming solstice feast, she busied herself with the important task of eating her cake and checking her text messages. There was one from Tabitha.

  Any news from Peter?

  Midnight’s mom—who didn’t approve of texting at the table—was having an intense conversation about the benefits of using
flaxseeds instead of eggs for baking. Midnight lowered her phone into her lap.

  No. I’m at C&C with my mom and Phil.

  You’re eating cake while we’re in the middle of a crisis? Tabitha’s reply boomeranged back.

  Yup. Midnight sent a line of cake emoticons.

  Now I’m hungry too. LMK when you hear something.

  Will do. Midnight hit Send just as her mom glanced over. She quickly raised her hands onto the table and allowed herself to be dragged into a heated debate about whether the original Vikings ate potatoes.

  By the time they were ready to leave, Midnight was half-asleep and her mom didn’t seem eager to start discussing whatever she’d wanted to discuss. Which was a good thing. All Midnight wanted was to figure out her next move.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “It’s what?” Midnight said the following morning as she sat on the end of her bed with her phone.

  “Spectral transference,” Peter Gallagher repeated in his clipped English accent. Thanks to his job, he was always traveling and often couldn’t call back right away. At least this time he hadn’t woken her up in the middle of the night.

  Not that she’d slept well.

  She’d tossed and turned, dreaming of the strange golden swirls and the flames of the mysterious fire. The good news was Tabitha’s dad said the clown was going to be okay. He was in the hospital with second-degree burns and a broken leg, but that was nothing he wouldn’t recover from.

  The bad news was Peter Gallagher sounded worried. If it had been a video call, Midnight was certain his jaw would be tight and lines would be running down the sides of his mouth.

  “Spectral transference? Why haven’t I heard of it before?” After her last case, her security clearance level had increased, which meant she had access to a lot more information in the Agency of Spectral Protection’s files. But nowhere had she seen any mention of spectral transference.