XXIV
Mr. Vaude guided me out of the main tent with a flourish, his coat flapping behind him. We walked through the employee exit of the big tent, the curtain of glowing beads behind the circus floor parting as if bowing us out. The moment we stepped into the open air, the sounds of the circus dimmed behind us replaced by a low, pulsing hum that vibrated through the ground. A neon lamp lit walkway stretched ahead, paved with glass panels that glowed from beneath. Each step lit up in shifting colors in red, blue, and violet like walking across the inside of a soul coin. The air tasted faintly metallic, charged with energy.
"Right this way, my dear," Vaude said, sweeping an arm forward. "The circus entertains… but the casino sustains."
At the end of the walkway rose a building that didn't belong in any world I knew. The Red Carousel Casino loomed like a gaudy tombstone three stories tall. It twinkled like the carousel it was named after. Three stories tall it was all glass and neon, glowing like a jewel in the fractured mirror night. The glass surrounding the building wasn't clear. It shimmered with faint silhouettes, reflections of people who were paid to be there, or maybe versions of those who were gambling inside. Neon signs curled around the structure in looping script, spelling out words in languages I didn't recognize. Some flickered. Some pulsed like heartbeats. The doors slid open without a sound.
Inside, the casino was alive. Spirits congregated around the tables. Some flickered translucent, some nearly solid, some barely there with missing parts. They wore clothing from every era, every world, every life they'd once lived. The shine of coins reflected in their eyes and the glitter of neon lit their varied opaque forms.
Some cried out as they won at their games, others trudged back to refill the soul coin absent from their empty trays.
Some stared blankly at their cards, as if the game itself was draining them.
Roulette wheels spun with chips made of condensed soul‑light.
Slot machines chimed with hollow, echoing bells.
Dice glowed faintly as they rolled, leaving trails of blue sparks. Every win felt like a breath. Every loss felt like a heartbeat stolen.
At the back of the casino, a grand staircase rose like a throne. None of the spirits dared approach the steps. The shining wood was covered in soft red velvet carpet. Wide, sweeping, lined with red neon that pulsed in time with the music framed waxed scarlet tinted oak, the banisters lead up to the second floor. At the top was a balcony of frosted glass framed and etched with filagree, overlooking the entire first floor casino.
"Those rooms up there," Vaude said, tapping his pocket watch and pointing with the tip of his chin, "is where the high‑rollers play. Souls bright enough to tempt fate. Or foolish enough to wager what they cannot afford." His grin sharpened. "Some of them win." He leaned closer. Two fingers playing with his waxed mustache.
"Most do not."
Vaude led me to the currency exchange to the left and right of the main staircase. At the foot of the stairs sat a long counter made of black glass, glowing faintly from within. The same kiosk stood on the other side. Behind it, attendants with hollow eyes and perfect smiles sorted stacks of glittering blue soul coins into trays.
A sign above the counter read:
SPIRIT EXCHANGE: SOUL ENERGY → CREDIT → FATE
A shiver ran through me.
Vaude watched my reaction with delight.
"Here," he said, "is where the world of shades becomes honest. Souls are currency. Light is power. And every wager is a story."
He offered his arm.
"Shall we see what your light buys you?"
His pocket watch ticked once — a sound like a heartbeat.
I stood in line, refusing to cut ahead.
The line shuffled forward with a kind of weary inevitability, each spirit moving as though gravity pulled harder on them than on anything living. They needed to gamble, needed more coin, addicted to the shine and the hope of a jackpot. Mr. Vaude watched with casual interest, twirling his pocket watch chain as if this were all part of the entertainment.
A spirit finally reached the front just before me. I noticed this being was tall and shaped rake thin, his body washed out grey that flickered at the edges like a dying candle. His limbs were too long, his fingers jointed like twigs, and his eyes were hollow pits of pale blue light. He looked like someone who had been here far too long… or someone who had gambled far too much.
The currency exchange attendant stepped forward. The near solid woman was a tall, leggy with the poise of a runway model and the expression of someone who had forgotten how to feel anything centuries ago. Her uniform was crisp, black velvet with red piping, and her dirty blonde hair was pinned into a perfect coil that didn't move even when she did. A velvet fascinator sat against one side of her head, a spray of black lace covering the obviously missing side of her face, the skin smooth and blank. A gold rimmed name plate is attached to her vest. Italic letters read, Justine. In her hands she held a sleek black tablet, its surface polished to a mirror shine.
"Next," she said, voice smooth and empty.
The spirit shuffled closer, his long fingers trembling as he lifted one hand. When he placed it on the tablet, his coarse knuckles clacked softly against the surface, a clatter of bone tapping on marble. The tablet reacted instantly.
A blue glow spread beneath his hand, blooming outward like ink in water. The light pulsed, reading him, scanning him, tasting the remnants of his essence. Symbols flickered across the screen. Something like numbers, sigils, or shifting glyphs that meant nothing to me but everything to the exchange appeared at the top of the reader. I was a step too far to see it clearly.
The attendant's eyes flicked over the results.
Her expression didn't change, but her voice softened by a fraction that I could hardly hear.
"Remaining energy: twelve percent. Soul‑coin value: three coins."
The spirit before me sagged, his shoulders drooping as if the verdict had physically struck him. His outline dimmed further, the blue glow of the tablet reflecting off his hollow chest. Three coins. All he had left was three coins of energy. If he lost one more time, he would have to make up the difference with parts of himself. Not enough for the card games anymore. All he could hope for was luck and the jackpot at the slots.
Mr. Vaude leaned toward me, his grin sharp and bright. Shook his head as he pitied the old fading man, as if he wasn't the profiteer.
"Poor fellow," he murmured. "Lost big last night. He thought he could win back what he owed. They always think that."
The attendant tapped the screen. Three small blue coins materialized in a tray beside her. Each coin flickered faintly, barely holding together.
"Next," she called.
The spirit stepped aside, clutching his meager coins like a man holding the last crumbs of his life.
And the line moved forward again.
Vaude turned to me, pocket watch ticking softly.
"This," he said, "is the beating heart of the casino. Souls in, souls out. Energy measured, traded, spent."
His grin widened.
"And you, my dear, might shine bright enough to bankrupt the house."
The tablet glowed ready again as I stepped forward.
And I felt the weight of every eye as everyone turned toward me, urging me to hurry.
I could finally read the tablet as I placed my hand on top. I could feel a tug, then a pulling at the center of my being as if the little tablet would suck me in at a touch.
The tablet was still warmed up, glowing from the last spirit, when I stepped in for my reading.
Mr. Vaude watched me with that fox‑bright grin, pocket watch ticking like a heartbeat in his palm. The attendant straightened, smoothing her uniform, trying to regain her composure after the billion‑soul shock she'd just witnessed.
I placed my hand lightly on the tablet.
The surface was cool, almost soothing.
Then the lights began to blink.
A soft pulse.
A swirl of blue.
A ripple of energy that crawled up my arm like static.
And then the numbers started.
One. Ten. Hundred. Thousand. Million. Billion…
The tablet vibrated under my palm.
The numbers didn't slow.
They didn't hesitate.
They accelerated, climbing faster than the screen could refresh, symbols flickering, glyphs stuttering as if the device itself couldn't keep up.
The attendant's eyes widened.
Her breath hitched.
"B‑billion, hundred billion…" she whispered.
Then the number rolled over again.
And again.
Her fingers slipped.
The tablet dropped onto the counter with a sharp clatter, skidding across the glossy black surface. A few spirits gasped. One stepped back as if the glow might burn him.
The attendant stared at the screen, her face draining of color.
"High roller," she breathed. "Above limit."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
The casino floor went still.
Even the slot machines seemed to pause mid‑chime.
The spirits in line leaned forward, their hollow eyes widening with awe, envy, fear. A few whispered to each other, their voices thin as smoke.
Mr. Vaude's grin stretched slow and delighted, like a man watching a fire he'd secretly set.
"Oh, my shining girl," he murmured, stepping closer. "You're not just above limit."
He tapped the edge of the tablet with one gloved finger.
"You are off the scale."
The attendant swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she tried to steady the device.
"I've… I've never seen a reading like this," she whispered. "Not even from Council members. Not even from—"
She cut herself off, eyes darting to Vaude.
He only smiled wider.
The tablet continued to glow, numbers frozen at a value so high the screen couldn't display it. I could just a long, pulsing bar of blue‑white light. Every spirit in the room was staring at me now with predatory, avaricious gazes. The recognition stifled me, like I was enclosed in a pressure cooker waiting to pop.
I finally understood why the hat man starved for my light.
Why the Madam watched me like a rare jewel.
Why the Council wanted me here.
Vaude offered his arm again, voice a velvet purr.
"Shall we take you upstairs, my dear? The high‑end rooms are waiting."
"Give our dear visitor a black card Justine, no limit."
"Yes Mr. Vaude,"
Justine places a blank black card on top of the tablet, imprinting in it my soul essence, connecting it to my worth in soul coin. Due to my body still being alive and still connected to my soul, I essentially had no limit to my energy.