Darren Craske - The equivoque principle

'And how that make you feel, boss?' chirped Butter.

'Oddly enough, my friend,' Quaint said, as he chomped on a rasher of smoked bacon, 'for the first time in a very long while…I suddenly feel…revitalised!'

'That is good,' said Butter, smiling warmly. 'Even if you do not look so, I think.'

'And what do you mean by that remark, you cheeky little scamp?'

Butter laughed. 'I mean no offence, boss. I refer only to your hair.'

'My hair?' asked Quaint. 'What on earth are you talking about, Butter? What's wrong with my bloody hair?'

Butter picked up a small, hand-held mirror from Madame Destine's makeshift dresser next to the bed, and offered it to his employer.

'Take a peek,' he said.

Quaint scowled and stared at his reflection as if he were looking at a stranger.

'Good Lord!' he gasped.

His formerly brown-grey curls were now silver-white curls.

'This is terrible!' Quaint said. 'Butter, I look ancient.'

'Actually, boss, I think it makes you look…'

'Distinguished?' offered Quaint, optimistically.

'No,' replied Butter. 'I was going to say…wise.'

'Wise, eh?' Quaint pulled at his spiralled silver-white curls in the mirror, stretching his jaw and inspecting his teeth as if this were the first time he had viewed his face. 'Hmm, well…I suppose I can cope with "wise". Heaven knows, I have been called far worse.'

Quaint threw back his loose bed sheets and stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. 'Well, hasn't this week just been full of surprises? I wonder what else we have left to discover, hmm? Now…I need to have a word with Prometheus before show time,' he said, ominously. 'There are a few things I need to say.'

The conjuror left his tent, and meandered through the congregated pockets of his performers and crew, searching for Prometheus. As he did so, they clapped, cheered and patted him on the back like a soldier returning from war. Quaint was not expecting that, and by the time he had got halfway to the piece of open grass where Prometheus was doing press-ups, he almost felt like turning around-but he kept on going, for the conversation he needed to have with the Irish strongman was of the utmost importance.

Quaint's shadow drifted over Prometheus's sweating form, and he slowly registered that he had company. He rose to his feet, and greeted Quaint with a wide smile.

'Mornin' to ye, Cornelius,' he said, cheerily. 'Ye look well.'

Quaint prodded his ivory locks. 'Apart from the new look, you mean?'

Prometheus laughed. 'Well, if ye want the truth, I think it makes ye look-'

'Distinguished?' suggested Quaint hopefully.

'Yeah…distinguished…that's it,' replied Prometheus, none too convincingly.

'Prom… I wanted to have a quick word with you,' began Quaint. 'Things have happened so fast this past week. A lot of things have occurred…to us both. I suppose I just…I just wanted to make sure you were all right…with the upcoming show and all.'

'Cornelius, I've known ye for a long time. I can see through ye just as well as Destine can, me old friend. Ye can say her name, ye know…'

'Madeline…' said Quaint, reverently.

'Twinkle, boss. Twinkle was her circus name…her true name,' Prometheus said, drifting away from a group of engineers making last-minute adjustments to a nearby marquee. 'She would want us to remember her as Twinkle.'

Quaint nodded, and followed him. 'Quite right too. Listen to me…if you don't feel like performing today, I do understand. To be honest…everything has happened so quickly that I've hardly had time to take stock. I swore to myself that I would grieve for Twinkle once my enemies were vanquished…but now I find my time taken up by other matters.' He reached out with his hand, grasping the air. 'I just…didn't want you to think we didn't care, Prom…that I didn't care.'

Prometheus spun to face him. 'Ah, don't be daft, man! Course I know ye care! I know what she meant t'ye…an' more importantly, so did she. Just 'cos of all that's gone on, doesn't make ye a heartless monster, does it? Look, I know what ye did.' He grinned a broad smile. 'Ye saved the whole of bleedin' London, man! Ye're a hero!'

Quaint rubbed the back of his neck shyly. 'Well, I don't know about that.'

'Well, I do!' Prometheus strode over to him, snatched up his hand and shook it hard, the action causing Quaint's teeth to rattle in his mouth. 'Ye did a grand job, so ye did, an' I'm proud t'call ye my friend.'

Quaint nodded in acquiescence. 'Well…same here. Very proud…just keep it to yourself, all right? I have a reputation to uphold!'

Prometheus grinned, and folded his broad arms across his expansive chest. 'So…we're goin' t'put on a damn fine show here today for the folk o' London, right? An' we're gonna make Twinkle proud of us too, right?'

Quaint smiled. 'You took the words right out of my mouth.'

'I may have been mute all them years, but I wasn't deaf! Just like I heard ye say so many times-we're a family! We stick together, an' we'll pull together…no matter what fate throws our way! We always do.'

'Absolutely,' agreed Quaint. 'I have to prepare. I'll see you later, Prometheus.'

The conjuror turned, and walked back through the throng of gaudily dressed performers, his eyes on his feet and his mind elsewhere. How could he tell Prometheus that he was about to leave the circus, that he was abandoning them all? However he said it, no matter how much he sugar-coated the words, it still amounted to a betrayal in his eyes. But as close as he was to his people -things had changed. The world had changed. True evil had arisen in the form of the Hades Consortium, and with its members…he had some unfinished business.

Fate, it seemed, was in the habit of throwing things in Cornelius Quaint's way.

BY LUNCHTIME THE first matinee show of the circus had begun, and reams of people from all across London's many boroughs peeled themselves away from their chores and employment, and entered Dr Marvello's Travelling Circus. Hyde Park was alight with such uncommon electricity as seemingly everyone from miles around had put their lives on hold and come to the circus.

Flurries of children and adults alike moved from one tent to the next, marvelling at the spectacles they witnessed as the show in the Big Top started. Destine patrolled around inside the massive tent watching the faces of the audience as the spectacle unfolded. Ruby had the crowd's stomachs in their mouths with her knife-throwing skills. The clowns Jeremiah and Peregrine soaked the first three rows with buckets of cold water. The Chinese twins Yin and Yang scared everyone half to death with their gymnastic exploits, and Prometheus bent steel bars as if they were made of liquorice-with Butter scurrying around doing everything in between. A well-oiled machine, the circus was a self-propagating beast. Everyone knew their part and each played it exceptionally. Shocks and frights were tempered with thrills and laughter like any good circus, and the atmosphere both inside and outside the Big Top was next to paradise. Cheers, screams of excitement and laughter undulated everywhere.

Destine stood back from the crowds and smiled to herself. Something she had not done in a long while. The circus had an amazing power to invigorate and rejuvenate. Suddenly, all her recent troubles were pushed to the back of her mind, as the performer side of her brain kicked in, and Destine simply allowed herself to go with the flow. She was taking a welcome break from her role as circus fortune-teller and she was feeling agitated, without knowing why. Despite how much pleasure she gained from watching the embryo of the circus blossom into its present state of completion, something was niggling at her. Tiny warm butterflies floated around Destine's body, and her hands tingled. Although this was normality once more (and how she had missed its presence), there was still something missing.