As the blonde young girl sat at a desk in an otherwise empty classroom and studiously wrote down the answers to a quiz she had found in the back of a math book, the nearby door leading out into the Fusion School hallway creaked open a bit before a voice spoke. “You know, from the back I almost would’ve thought my sister was the one in here wasting a day doing extra school work.” Tristan stepped in, adding, “Well, assuming she was hit by some sort of magic spell to make her a few years younger. Or there were time hijinks involved.” He smiled a bit lopsidedly, moving to lean against the teacher’s desk nearby. “Sorry, how’s it going? You know, for you and the rest of… uh, the others?”


    Letters carefully set the pencil she was using down, looking up to meet his curious gaze. “It’s okay. I mean, we’re okay. Denny comes out once in awhile, she’s just not ready to be in charge or to front most of the time. So the rest of the Carnival and I take turns.”


    “You’ve been doing it the most though, right?” Tristan pointed out while idly picking up the nearby stapler to fiddle with it. “You’re usually the one I see around.”


    “You see us most often around the classrooms,” Letters reminded him politely. “As the Aspect most interested in learning, I find myself active the most during those times.” She paused briefly before adding, “That said, I do tend to be one of the more active among us. Perhaps because this entire facility has become a school itself. I feel at home here.”


    Her words made the older boy grin. “Well that’s good to hear. I was uhh…” He rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “I was just checking to see how you’re all doing with Flick leaving. I mean, she just came home after a long trip and now she’s gone again for an even longer one, and we don’t even know when she’ll be back. You–uh, I mean you all seemed pretty close to her after what happened. Plus with you know who in there, and his whole–”


    “His name is Theodore,” Letters reminded him firmly. “Not Voldemort. You can say his name without fearing for your life. He is not Ammon either. And yes, he has… we all have feelings about Flick being gone. Some handle it better than others.” She glanced away briefly before turning her attention back to him to speak in a softer voice. “It is complicated.”


    With a snort, Tristan nodded. “Right, yeah, that I definitely believe. Things tend to be complicated in general around here, and you–” He paused, considering his words. “You all seem to have been hit with an extra dose of complications. Or maybe a few extra doses. Either way, I just wanted you to know that any time any of you want to talk or whatever, you know, to someone else outside the Carnival, I’m up for it. Flick may be gone for now, but you’ve still got people here.”


    “I–thank you,” Letters started before hesitating. There seemed to be a brief internal consultation. Which, if Tristan understood how time worked within the Carnival, meant it was a very long consultation for them. “Pardon me, there’s something I need to attend to inside.”


    And just like that, her form shifted and changed, as the one known as Tailor used her shapeshifting abilities to make their external body match that of the one who was talking to him now. In this case, she looked like twelve-year-old Denise Cartland normally did. Except this version wore shabby, ill-fitting clothes that were more like rags thanks to the amount of use and damage they had seen. That familiar dark hair had been cut unevenly and amateurishly, as though the girl herself had done so with only scissors and no access to a mirror. Various scars lined her face and other parts of exposed skin, adding to the understanding of the battles this version of the girl had been through. This was Feisty, the personality that had been created to serve as the amalgamation of all the were-creatures, and those like them, who had been murdered by Ammon. If Letters was a combination of those of his victims who had been studious, Feisty was the result of those who had lived off the grid, who had been homeless wanderers living either in the woods or scattered through any number of big cities. With the Boscher Heretics an eternal threat, the weres Ammon had found for his lethal games were always accustomed to a harsh, dangerous life. Unfortunately, they had suffered even more under his ‘care’ before being killed. But now, some version of them was alive, their memories and personalities coalesced into a single being. Or at least a single part of a greater being.


    As soon as she had appeared fully, Feisty rose from the chair so quickly the desk came with her partway before crashing back down with a bang. She barely noticed, simply moving away from it and toward the door. “Fuck, fuck, we’ve been sitting around too long. I need to walk, clear my head. Come on if you want, but I ain’t wasting my time around here anymore. Get me out of this place.”


    Tristan raised an eyebrow, starting to follow after grabbing the books and pencil that Letters had been working through. Feisty was apparently too intent on getting out of there to remember those. He tucked the things under his arm, then joined the girl in the hall. She was walking quickly past other classroom doors. “You going anywhere in particular?”


    “Just walking,” came the quick response. “Can’t sit still. Feels wrong to sit still. Boring. Dangerous.” She paused briefly, looking over her shoulder at him. “I know it’s safe here. Logically, realistically, whatever. Safe as any place could be. But it feels wrong to sit around. Feels like there’s a target on my back–our back. Makes me itchy or whatever. I get anxious and have to move. Longer I sit still, the worse it gets. Even when it’s someone like Letters who’s been sitting. When I take over, I feel like it’s been me the whole time. I hate taking over for her after she’s been on a study binge. Makes me feel paranoid. More than usual.”


    With a slow nod, Tristan replied, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense, considering where you come from and all.” He picked up the pace a bit to walk alongside her before adding, “Actually, I was about to go check in on Aureus and see how she’s doing today. If you want, you could come along.” He shrugged then. “You know, if you ever wanted to know what it was like to have someone threaten to explode you. She’s good at that. Both threatening and doing it, really. But don’t worry, it’s safe. She knows she can’t get anywhere by attacking any of us, she just likes to talk about it.”


    There was a brief pause before Feisty replied, “I think some of the ones who came before me, the ones whose memories I have, actually did get exploded a few times. They didn’t think it was very fun. At least not for the most part. I think one of them liked it, which is weird.” She considered that, making a face before shaking it off. “Yeah, whatever. As long as we can get away from all these classrooms. I’m about to break into hives if I have to sit at another desk again.”


    With a chuckle and grin, Tristan gave her a high five. “Trust me, I hear that. Come on.” With that, he began to walk ahead, leading her through the station. On the way, he asked, “So, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you have all those powers? I mean, can you shapeshift into a bunch of different were animals?”


    Feisty took a moment to respond before nodding. “Yeah, between all the different Were people who make up who I am, I can do about seven different animals. Wolf, bear, snake, jaguar, shark, crow, and spider.”


    Tristan gave a double take at that last bit. “A spider? You mean like a little black widow or a tarantula or something? That doesn’t seem as dangerous as the others. I mean, if someone could just reach down and flick you away like that.”


    The lift arrived and they stepped onto it while Feisty rolled her eyes. “Sure, yeah, I can be tiny like that. It’s good for infiltration or whatever, I guess. But I can also be bigger. I can turn into a spider that’s about the size of a large dog if I want to.”


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Coughing, Tristan agreed, “Right, yeah, that’s a little more dangerous than I thought.”


    Feisty started to say something else, only to look away while groaning. “Hang on, I’ve gotta go in and help deal with this.”


    Before the boy could say anything in response to that, her form changed once again. She still looked like Denise, only instead of being shabbily dressed and heavily scarred, this one looked like she was literally dead. She wore normal clothes, with visible strangulation marks on her neck, along with bluish skin and bloodshot eyes. Despite that appearance, however, the girl gave a bright, almost infectious smile. “Hi!” she chirped. “Do we really get to go see the explosion girl? Cuz Feisty was right, we do have a lot of memories about explosions in here.” She tapped the side of her head while adding, “And some of them did like it, but mostly because being exploded meant they wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”


    That was a lot to take in, and Tristan almost missed the elevator door opening. He only managed to notice when the girl herself cheerfully hopped off it, forcing him to follow. “Oh, hey, Bucket,” he greeted her. There was always a lot to take in when it came to each of the Carnival’s various Aspects. But most of them were simply the memories of various people who had some similarities before being killed by Ammon. Such as all the Were people when it came to Feisty, or the academically and technologically-minded for Letters.


    Bucket, however, was literally the memories of all their deaths. As far as everyone had been able to put together, she was made up of two types of victims. First, she held the personalities of all the ordinary human people Ammon been responsible for killing, those who didn’t have any extra powers. Her appearance tended to shift randomly between various versions of a Denise who had been killed in all the different ways those people had. She always resembled a corpse, with different lethal wounds.


    The other half of the victims she embodied were those who had had some form of regeneration or healing ability. That was Bucket’s personal power. She could reassemble herself from literally any amount of damage. Which, come to think of it, could prove useful if they were going in to see Aureus. Again, Tristan was certain she knew better than to actually attack them regardless of what she said, but still. It never hurt to be on the safe side.


    Shaking that off, the boy focused on a more important, immediate question. “What’s going on in there? Letters had to leave, and now Feisty too? Is everything… uh, okay?” He didn’t want to push too hard or anything, but seriously, something was definitely happening.


    Bucket’s form shifted a bit. Instead of the strangulation signs, she had a single bullet wound in the center of her forehead along with what appeared to be multiple cuts along her cheeks and neck. “Oh yeah, it’ll be fine. They’re just checking something out. Honestly, some of us are pretty upset about Flick being gone and they think we won’t see her again. So they’re trying to distract themselves.”


    Tristan grimaced a bit at that. The whole reason he had gone to see the Carnival in the first place was because he was worried about how they would feel. But turning out to be right didn’t exactly make him proud. With a soft sigh, the boy replied, “Okay, well, like I said back there, if any of you need to talk to someone outside the collective, I’m right here. Or, if you prefer someone smarter, I could get Nessa or our mom. Anybody. We’re all here to help if you need anything.”


    Bucket thanked him, and the two of them made their way through the station before finally reaching the rooms where the Seosten girl was being kept. There were several guards outside keeping an eye on her, considering how dangerous it would be if she got out into the larger station. Despite being here for over a month, Aureus had made it clear that she held no particular fondness for most of them and would gladly blow up the whole station to escape.


    Or at least, that was what she claimed. Tristan believed otherwise. Oh, he was certain she would escape and go back to Kushiel if given the chance. But he doubted her claims that she would kill everyone here. The way she talked, the hesitation he heard in her voice and saw in her eyes, all of that didn’t match her actual words. She wasn’t a monster. She had simply been trained and raised by Kushiel and her people to act a certain way. Every now and then when talking to her, or at her considering the lack of response she usually had, Tristan could see interest, even buried longing. Some part of her wanted to know more about this place and the people in it. But that part was always shoved down and hidden. She buried it deep under her rage at being confined and kept away from the woman she felt such loyalty to.


    Somehow, he had become the person she tolerated the most in there. Oh, she still threatened him now and then. Especially whenever he arrived or left. But it was mostly ceremonial, as though she thought not threatening him would be seen as accepting her imprisonment, and she couldn’t have that. Beyond those lackluster threats, she actually sat and listened while he talked about things. He told her stories about his life, especially all the things he had been through while out in space with Grandpa Nick. And from the way she listened, he was certain the girl had some longing to be out in space herself. That was why she was interested in this sunstation despite her anger. She wanted to be on a spaceship and go exploring. Of course she did. She was a Seosten. But Kushiel kept her confined and hidden away, training the girl and her companions to be her personal honor guard or whatever. So her deep desire to be out among the stars, exploring and seeing brand new worlds was at odds with her loyalty to the woman who had brought her up.


    He had explained all that to Bucket on the way to the rooms, wanting the girl to understand what they were about to walk into. Now, he greeted the guards before holding up a bag of beef jerky from his pocket. “I promised I’d bring her a meat snack that humans like. Do you mind?”


    The guards checked both of them over and looked in on their prisoner first, but finally waved them on. Tristan and Bucket walked into what amounted to a very nice hotel room. The girl had been upgraded from the simple prison cell she’d been in before with all the explosive marks all over the walls. Once she had made it clear she wouldn’t destroy everything in the room in an attempt to escape, she was brought here and allowed to live in some comfort.


    Aureus, the golden-haired girl, was sitting in the middle of the queen sized bed, facing a television that she had quickly turned off when they started to enter. But Tristan knew thanks to the security videos that she had been watching an old human sitcom with rapt attention. He didn’t say anything about that however, not wanting to discourage the girl from enjoying herself, even if she felt like she had to hide that.


    “Didn’t I tell you that if you came back again today I’d pop your eyeballs?” she demanded darkly. Only then did she notice the person with him, gaze narrowing. “Why in the void did you bring a zombie with you?”


    Far from being offended, Bucket cheerfully gave her a thumbs up and twirled while her body shifted once again to clearly resemble a person who had been burned to death. “Oh, I’m not a zombie! My name’s Bucket. I’m just… uh, it’s a long story. But I’m really alive. I just look like I’m dead. I look like I’m a lot of different kinds of dead.”


    There was a brief pause where Aureus clearly wanted to push for more information, but somehow convinced herself that to do so would make her look like she was actually interested in anything around here. So, she simply retorted, “I don’t care. And unless you want to die in a whole new way, I suggest you leave the same way you came in. Better yet, leave the door open and I’ll show myself out for good.”


    Ignoring that, Tristan held up the bag of jerky and tossed it next to her on the bed. “See? I keep my promises. I told you I’d get you that snack I was talking about. Dried and seasoned meat.”


    Aureus moved to open the bag without even thinking about it, tearing it while reaching in to take a hunk of the jerky so she could shove it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed quickly, only then seeming to realize what she had done. Face slightly flushed from embarrassment and annoyance, she pushed herself off the bed and faced the two of them. “If you think you can bribe me into betraying my mother just by giving me a little snack, I’ll–”


    Her words were interrupted by Bucket. “Hang on, wait. Something’s going on. Something’s going on inside. Something’s… bad.” She staggered to one side, holding her hand against her head.


    “What is this?” Aureus demanded. “What is wrong with her?”


    Tristan shook his head. “I don’t know, but we need to call–”


    A flash of light filled the room, and they were suddenly gone. They weren’t in that room anymore. Instead, Tristan and Aureus both found themselves standing in front of a large Ferris wheel. The sounds of more rides and games were all around them.


    Tristan knew what this was. They were inside Denise. They were in the Carnival.


    But… but why? And what the hell was going on?