The clacking noise from the tent didn’t last long.

  Joren blinked as he slipped under the tent flap, suddenly finding himself under soft carnival lights. Rides turned slowly in the distance, their flashing bulbs glowing warmly against the stone pathways. Somewhere gentle music replaced the loud and overwhelming one he heard earlier.

  Joren frowned slightly. He didn’t remember stepping back outside, but the scene looked normal enough. Empty game stalls lined the path, prizes attached to strings swaying in the breeze. The crowds from earlier were gone, leaving the city strangely peaceful.

  He took a step forward, glancing over his shoulder.

  The tent wasn’t there anymore.

  Instead, the midway continued on behind him.

  Joren paused for a moment, then shrugged lightly. “Must’ve walked through the other side and dozed off for a second.”

  The city wasn’t exactly small or somewhere he was overly familiar with yet, so it wasn’t the first time he’d wandered through a different section without realizing it.

  Joren faced forward and continued walking.

  A soft mechanical hum drifted through the air ahead of him, followed by the whir of a motorized ride. He followed the sound until a carousel came into view.

  The ride spun slowly and hypnotizing, painted with faded colors. Gold trim accents lined the edges of the structure, the decorative patterns catching the warm glow of the plain lights on the body. Rows of fiberglass horses rose and fell gently along polished poles as the carousel turned in a circle.

  Joren slowed as he approached. Each horse had a different look, yet they all felt similar somehow.

  One stood tall with its front legs lifted high, its mane mid-fall as if they were frozen in a gallop. Another leaned forward slightly, its mouth agape. Painted saddles caught the light, each decorated with floral patterns. Some horses were deep chestnut brown, others white, and some grey.

  The carousel continued its slow rotation, the horses rising and dipping in a gentle rhythm as the calliope music played. It was a peaceful melody of pianos and organs, soft and looping, as the notes drifted through the air like a lullaby.

  For a while Joren sat on a bench and just watched.

  The white horse with the blue saddle appeared again. Then the gray one with the falling mane. Finally, the chestnut horse with its front legs raised high came back around.

  A lone hanging lightbulb from the ceiling, swinging against the canvas background flashed into his mind.

  Joren relaxed against the bench as he watched them pass, just observing the cycle. Lightbulbs flickered along the rim of the carousel as the lulling music continued on and on. After a while, Joren pushed himself up from the bench and continued on.

  He walked for a while, looking around at the stretch of empty booths.

  Perhaps he was in an old district. It was the only explanation he could think of as to why he didn't see anyone else around.

  Most stalls looked like they were open, but none seemed to tickle his fancy as he passed them. Knife tossing to hammer games, all things that he considered trying while no one was looking but decided it wasn’t worth it.

  Only one stall in particular caught his attention as he aimlessly wandered, that being ring toss. A table inside the booth was lined from corner to corner with tall glass bottles, five rings sitting on the counter just waiting to be tossed. Joren knew the rules already.

  Just get one ring on the colored bottle to win a big prize. Land one on any of the others to win a small prize.

  He heard that same phrase nearly a dozen times since he arrived in Carnival City.

  Joren picked up one of the rings and levitated it over his palm.

  The bottles were spaced close enough that the toss didn’t look particularly difficult, though he knew all of these games were designed to be in the owner's favor.

  He stepped a little closer to the counter and lined up for his throw.

  The colored bottle sat right in the center of the others, its brown surface standing out against the clear ones.

  Joren let the ring drop into his fingers and gave it a light toss.

  The ring floated through the air before dropping over the colored bottle with a soft clink against the glass.

  “Well,” he muttered to himself. "That wasn't so hard."

  He hadn’t expected it to land that easily, but having the ability to levitate objects made it a cakewalk.

  Joren picked up another ring from the counter and repeated the same routine.

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  A pair of long, oversized shoes stepped into view nearby, observing the young man throwing rings at bottles. Joren glanced down at the ring for a moment before tossing it just like before.

  The ring spun through the air gracefully and dropped onto another bottle with a clink.

  He leaned forward, watching it stop before reaching for another ring on the counter.

  Only then did he look around.

  A tall, lanky clown stood beside him casually, abnormally large hands resting in the pockets of red and white striped overalls. A long-sleeved polka dot shirt stretched against his rotund torso as his painted smile watched in interest. His arms and legs were nearly twigs, with a big head completing the strange look.

  Joren gasped and stumbled back a step, surprised at someone standing next to him for who knows how long, but quickly regained composure.

  The clown tilted his head, watching the bottles for a moment before looking back at Joren.

  “Looks like we have a winner,” he praised calmly.

  Joren glanced back at the counter. Neither of them seemed in much of a hurry to leave.

  "Why don't I get you a prize, Mr. Winner," the clown said, now walking behind the booth to grab one.

  Stuffed animals, plastic trinkets, and plenty of cheap carnival hats, all things Joren had no need for. From the top shelf, the clown grabbed a stuffed bear and handed it to Joren.

  The bear’s glass eyes caught the carnival lights and reflected them back in tiny points of color. Maybe one of his friends would like it, he thought.

  Joren turned the stuffed toy in his hands, pressing lightly against its soft belly. The fabric gave way easily beneath his fingers, the stuffing shifting around inside. Even the big prizes were cheap, but at least it wasn't poorly made.

  He flipped it over, noticing a small tag hanging from the back of the bear’s leg. The letters he couldn't quite make out, they just looked like a swirling of lines. Maybe it was elvish language?

  Another quick flicker passed through his vision.

  The soft carnival lights vanished for an instant.

  A lone lightbulb swung gently above him, its dim glow feeling very much real.

  Joren blinked.

  The carousel music continued drifting through the air as the quiet stalls stretched around them again.

  He glanced back down at the stuffed bear in his hands.

  Still cheap.

  "I need to get to bed,” Joren said, running his hand through his hair. “My head's feeling kinda funny."

  The clown watched him calmly from across the counter, nodding along.

  “Well,” he said at last, his voice quite unique. “Enjoy the prize, Joren. See you later.”

  Joren looked up from the bear.

  He frowned slightly. “I don’t remember telling you my name."

  And the clown’s painted smile stretched just a little wider. "Oh, we met the other day, remember? I'm Big Top the clown."

  The name seemed to ring a bell in Joren's mind. Perhaps he did mention his name the other day to this random clown. He must have crossed paths with Big Top and had simply forgotten the interaction. Clearly it wasn’t anything memorable.

  Joren gave a small nod to himself, satisfied enough with the explanation.

  “Well, thanks for the bear,” he said, tucking it under his arm.

  Big Top bowed his head slightly, the painted smile never shifting. “Anytime.”

  Joren stepped away from the booth and started back down the way he came. Big Top did not follow.

  The empty stalls stretched ahead of him again, their hanging prizes swaying gently in the breeze. The carousel music drifted through the air in front of him, still playing that same soft looping melody.

  He walked at an easy pace, the stuffed bear bouncing lightly against his side as he made his way back to the room.

  Back to the room.

  It was all so peaceful.

  The music played on.

  The same melody, again and again.

  “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “Definitely time for bed.”

  A voice called out faintly from everywhere all at once. "Joren?"

  Joren slowed slightly.

  He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see someone stepping out from one of the booths behind him, but the street remained empty.

  “Hello?” he called back, though his voice felt different from what he expected.

  No answer came.

  “Joren!” A voice screamed out.

  The calliope music cut off mid-note, the warm carnival lights vanished, and the illusion shattered in an instant. The carousel was gone, replaced by an empty tent lit by a single bulb swinging overhead.

  Something very large leaned over Joren.

  Joren’s eyes slowly adjusted to what was right in front of his face.

  The face of Big Top hung inches from his own, but something was seriously wrong. His jaw had opened far past what any human body should allow, looking like a blooming flower. The painted smile Joren had just seen moments ago had now torn apart into a cavern of flesh lined with rows of jagged teeth.

  The clown’s head tilted back as the grotesque maw gaped wider and wider, large enough to swallow him whole. The swinging lightbulb caught on the wet rows of teeth mere inches from his face.

  For a fraction of a second Joren’s mind locked in place, unable to process what he was seeing. Instinct took over before he could form a thought.

  A red star sparked into existence at the tip of his finger, gathering mass instantaneously. The air around it warped as the tiny star condensed, no larger than a golf ball but burning with high heat.

  Joren hurled the star straight into Big Top's throat.

  The sound of gurgled screaming tore through the small tent. The clown’s body recoiled violently, snapping backward as the heat burned deep inside its mouth. The grotesque form he took on reverted as he struggled in the dirt, writhing like a bug.

  Big Top thrashed some more before scrambling upright in a panicked frenzy. The creature crashed through the side of the tent, tearing through canvas and vanishing into the pathways.

  Joren stood frozen where he was, his hand still half-raised from the throw as he tried to process the scene that just unfolded.

  Heavy footsteps rushed across the dirt.

  “Joren!”

  Tsunami ran over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Are you good? What was that?"

  “The clown,” he said, pointing weakly toward the torn canvas. “Big Top.”

  Tsunami followed the gesture.

  “Yeah,” Tsunami muttered. “I saw the whole thing.”

  “I never left this place, did I?” Joren asked.

  Tsunami shook his head.

  "What a terrifying power..." Joren's voice trailed off. "We need to do someone about him, people aren't safe."

  Tsunami nodded in agreement. "You're right, lets go after him."

  The two stepped through the torn canvas where Big Top had just burst through.

  The noise of the carnival came back all at once, reminding Joren that the tent was Big Top's silent lair.

  Music drifted through the air and laughter traveled from nearby stalls. A pair of jugglers passed by while a group of performers in bright costumes walked in unison, their legs tied to two poles.

  Joren scanned the pathways, his eyes darting everywhere.

  Clowns.

  Masked dancers.

  Colorful costumes everywhere.

  Any one of them could be the thing that had just tried to swallow him whole.

  Big Top was gone.

  Tsunami exhaled quietly next to Joren. “We lost him.”