Jasson bought the least cancel-able souvenir that he could. A photo-crystal painting of the comedian. Jasson's phone was full of videos from the guy, but he wanted to contribute. Now he just needed to get the photo signed.
Apparently there were quite a few girls that had a similar idea, and they patrolled in feral packs of giggling. The protective rope cordoning off the wagons lay in a disgraceful array, beaten with a dozen high heels.
Jasson followed behind one of these packs, sharing a shrug with an underpaid guard. If security didn’t care then neither did Jasson. He was there, standing on the back of the wagon, talking to his fans. The problem was that the dwarf’s trailer was absolutely mobbed, and Jasson didn’t want to end up like the barrier.
Jasson gave up and found a dark corner between the cages of snarling monsters. He did his Do-A-Lingo, the carnival music drowned out by trained ferocity. He didn’t have any cell service. He should leave soon.
The city itself lay a few dozen feet away, divided by a simple rope. Just a simple rope in this world of magic.
No…not simple.
Jasson had caught a glint of light, like glass. He’d been spending a lot of time around magical circles and constructs. One of the primary components was Flux. A glass-like substance found like a husk around the Magic Crystals of monsters.
Jasson approached the barrier.
There was a thin chain of flux links wrapped around the length of the barrier, interspersed with hanging banners. On the public side, these banners were just flags. But as viewed from ‘backstage’, these flags each held a magical crystal apparatus.
Jasson poked at it with a careful stick, but didn't feel any resistance. Of course, it wouldn't hurt anything from this side. But it would also be a dome if it was anything like in media.
Jasson threw the stick up in the air and watched it fall, then caught it. Had he not thrown high enough?
The crystals were slightly glowing, showing that they were active. But they were also not that powerful.
Yeah,
Jasson thought,
This is a circus. No need for a full dome. But they need some kind of wall.
Not much use if the guards just…let people in…
Jasson frowned, the eyes of the Ring leader flashing from memory. He'd seen eyes like that before. Eyes of murder.
It wasn’t his business. Would he be safe if he hoped across the barrier? It couldn’t be too dangerous. But why risk it?
Walking back the way he had come, Jasson saw the network bars on his phone flash from none to two. Maybe he was jumpy. Maybe he was a busybody. Either way, Jasson ducked under a cage wagon containing a sleeping monster.
Two people walked around the corner. It was that first happy clown, face contorted in anger as he wiped the makeup from his face. The clown and the Ring Master.
The clown said, “Sure, dad. That’s exactly what I wanted for my birthday. Murder! Whoopee!”
“Keep your voice down!” The ringmaster snapped, “I told you only because you confronted me. I was going to spare you the guilt.”
“Father,” the clown said, face softening, “Please. He will move on and do his own show.”
The ring master shook his head and said, “We owe him too much money to give him his last paycheck. Most of the other freaks are fond of him and would probably follow him as well. The freak show was my idea! Everyone loves a good scare. But he’s turned it into a laughingstock."
“That’s no reason for murder!” the clown said, “Call off your man. He's a funny guy. You shouldn't have stoked his anger. There’s no way the guards are going to buy this ‘snuck in’ story.”
“Doesn't it enrage you, son?” The ringleader pull out shears and said, “You were born to be a star, but beside him you can't get a word in edge wise. Just because he talks fast. And here they all are, laughing because he's a dwarf. You've spent your whole life working on your craft, and he won the genetic lottery.”
The ringleader cut the rope cordoning off the area, snapping through the flux chain. The Crystals went dark.
“Of course I hate it,” the clown said, “But the solution is to cut expenses and save up, not this!”
“Enough,” The Ringleader straightened, “I am still in charge here. And you do not have a choice. Just prepare your jokes for tomorrow night. We'll need the levity.”
The distant cry of women squealing heralded the dwarf going inside his trailer for the night.
The clown snorted, walked away and said, “Jokes for a funeral. What a clown show.”
The ringmaster shook his head and turned away, and Jasson shrunk into the shadows.
Ding!
The ringmaster froze and locked onto the shadows that concealed Jasson. Jasson swore mentally and reached into his pocket, flipping the mute switch.
After a moment the ringmaster shrugged and turned away.
Jasson wanted to wait until the man was out of sight. He wanted to wait until the man was five minutes gone. But there was a murder plot happening, and Jasson had the power to stop it.
Theoretically.
What can I actually do?
Jasson thought.
Walk up and say ‘Nobody move, I'm a wizard with a nuke!’ I don't even have proof that I'm friends with the duchess. #%@$! Why didn’t I record that meeting? I literally have a phone!
Jasson waited until the ringmaster was just out of sight, then started to briskly walk in the other direction. Why did he always end up in these circumstances?
He wasn’t a hero like he imagined. He couldn’t withstand a knife in the chest or even a rock to the head. Well, maybe he could. He certainly seemed to be tougher these days.
“This is a murder plot,” Jasson murmured, “And for a dwarf no less. They’ll be weak. If they try to kill me, I’ll just heal up a few times and wait for the guards.”
The problem was that, without his phone, Jasson wasn’t much of a fighter either.