Chapter One: Cotton

"Horse Thief!" Cotton shouted as she walked through the camp of her circus.

"Yeah boss?" He said. He finished unhitching two horses from their cart and walked with them over to her.

"Well aren't this pair splendid?" She extended a tentative hand towards one of the horses, but it chuffed and pulled away.

"Easy, easy" the Horse Thief said stroking its nose gently. She took a step back and the animal calmed.

"So where did these two come from?" She asked.

“I found them.” The Horse Thief said simply.

"You just happened upon them?"

"I asked if they wanted to come, and they came it is as simple as that."

"How many horses do you have now?"

"Seven” he answered.

"You do realize that more mouths to feed means less money in your pocket? You don't live in a palace anymore."

"I haven’t lived in a palace for some time. So isn't it fortunate for me that I can steal more than just horses."

"What is fortunate for you, Horse Thief, is that you amuse me, and I like the thought of holding a Northerner's soul in contract far too much to let you just starve to death."

The Horse Thief shrugged seeming indifference. "Is there something you actually wanted to talk to me about, Cotton?"

"Your contract, actually." She said. Cotton had met the Horse Thief two years ago now. He had been exiled from the Northern Empire following the reveal of his horse and wife stealing exploits. He had fled his life of comfort in the Northern capital with nothing more than he could carry, which given that he was a pampered aristocrat wasn't much. He was desperate. He had snuck into her circus to watch without paying for a ticket. Then he had tried to take the horse that pulled her wagon. A nearly fatal mistake for him. He was the easiest contract she had signed yet and perhaps since. For a bare scrap of her mother's magic and the promise of steady shelter and food he had consigned his soul. When he died, or in twenty eight years whichever came first, the Horse Thief would join her mother's infernal army. Till then he was hers.

"Do you feel like working towards your escape clause?"

"It seems hardly right to call it that. There is no escaping is there?"

"Come on, how many do you have 97? I think it is?"

"Does that seem like a small number to you?"

"Well on the one hand you didn't ask for much but on the other you did get a full 30 years so it seems like a fair number to me." Cotton said with a smile.

"And where do you suppose we will be getting these souls for me?"

"Corsaña of course" Cotton said "where else did you think we were going?"

"I really do not care at all for the condescension in that answer." The Horse Thief said.

"And I typically don't care over much for Northerners yet you I find amusing so I'll ask again. Want to collect some souls for your contract?" Her voice was light and playful. She really did like the Horse Thief.

The Horse Thief sighed "is there, in your professional opinion, a point to it at the rate I am going?"

"Oh there's always a point. If you don't believe there's a point we could always renegotiate a retirement price and live out the rest of your life without worry and still join the army when you die."

"Weather or not I will end up there I still think my life is worth living now for as long as I have it. I have job I love, wonderful circus family, your charming company," he listed "I left the empire just in time before little wars starts. I have much to live these years for."

Cotton chuckled. "Let me know if you make up your mind on the souls. I'll be looking for another pact or two while we are in town, they could always go towards you."

"What would you do if I do get all souls for my contract and I go and leave?"

Cotton put her hand to her chest in feigned surprise. "You would leave wonderful circus family and my charming company" she said in a garish imitation of his accent.

"I do not sound like that." He said.

"I do not sound like that." She imitated. Cotton laughed. "Whatever you choose, we'll be in Corsaña tomorrow and having our first show the next night see that your new horses are ready."

"Oh I’ll have them ready" the Horse Thief said, "your mother saw to that."  He spoke some words in Northern and the horses obediently followed him away. Cotton watched him go for a moment her eyes lingering on the iron torque on his wrist. It was her mother's just like the one she wore around her neck. Cotton turned towards her own wagon to set her tent for the evening.

Cotton's personal wagon was small but much more than one would expect for a single person.  She had been traveling for years now and had developed a habit of collecting. The horse that pulled her cart was a massive black stallion.  Her horse's bridle was a glamor, a trick she had had picked up during her apprenticeship with the story bards. It hid the fact that the towering black draft horse was in fact the reanimated skeleton of a much smaller horse. She scratched under its chin. Bones did not shy away from her the way that living horses did.

Cotton noticed movement under the tarp on her wagon. She smiled and cocked an eyebrow.

"Hmmm." She said performatively loudly. "It seems there is something in my wagon."

Whatever was moving under the tarp giggled.

"I wonder what it could be?" Cotton said as she stepped closer.

What was under the tarp wiggled and squirmed.

"I’ll just have to... uncover it!" Cotton said and tore the tarp away.

The child that had been holding her breath beneath the tarp squealed with glee.

"Gasp!"  Cotton shouted, "it’s a goblin!"

Goblins were small furry and mischievous creatures with paws that looked far too much like hands and a  habit for getting into things. The entirely human child under the tarp scream laughed and began kicking her legs up in the air.

Cotton swung the child up out of her wagon. "Of course there is only one thing to do with goblins."

The child giggled and squirmed.

"We gobble them up! Gobble gobble gobble gobble." Cotton buried her face in the child's belly. She shrieked with laughter.

Cotton smiled and put the girl on her hip. "Well let's just get you back where you belong shall we?" Cotton asked.

The girl smiled and shook her head, leaning behind Cotton's shoulder as best she could.

Cotton chuckled to herself and began striding around the camp. It did not take her long to reach the Immata family's tents. "Mauricio!" She called. "I found another goblin!"

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"Oh have you, well that must be the fifth this week." Maurico said as he finished tying down the oil clothe over a tent.

"Have you had problems with goblins in your wagon?" Cotton asked.

"We are simply over run" a woman said stepping out of another tent as four more children ran out around her.

"Mama!" The child on Cotton's hip exclaimed.

"Well there's my tiniest one." The woman stepped forward with her arms out for her child. The girl leapt into them. "Oh, I've caught a goblin too." She said and kissed the girl on her head before putting her down. Your brothers ran off to gather some firewood go catch them."

"Come on Reina!" One of the boys called.

"Bye bye!" Reina said and then ran after her siblings.

Cotton sighed and smiled as she watched her run off.

"I take it that’s all of yours accounted for Rikvah?"

"Yes, it is. I am sorry she keeps sneaking into your things. I hope she is not causing you too much trouble."

"It's nothing." Cotton smiled.  "If she keeps being able to fit and hide herself in small spaces she may be able to have her own act in a few years."

"Nah," a young man said stepping forward from the tent. "She'll be a flyer like the rest of the girls." He picked Rikvah up as lightly as he would a doll and set her feet on his shoulder. "Right mom?"

"[Apelon] You put me down this instant you are supposed to be watching your siblings. Who is supervising them now? This is how Reina keeps getting into everyone's things"

She flipped off his shoulders to land her feet.

"I'm sorry mom I'll go watch them now" he began to shuffle off.

"With haste young man!" Rikvah said.

"Yes ma'am." He jogged away.

Cotton covered her mouth to hide her snicker as she watched the boy run in the direction

of his younger siblings. He was barely sixteen but had grown long legs and broad shoulders over the winter. He had been asking for his own act, a strong man performance, since before he had the frame for it but now Cotton was considering giving it to him. Assuming of course his mother did not ground him. "So, how is my favorite family doing?" Cotton asked after a beat. "You have the tumbling and acrobat boys, the various arial girls, a strong man if Apelon can keep his nose clean, Varra is already off to a great start with the arial hoop, and maybe the world's youngest contortionist. Any plans on expanding your acts further?"

Rikvah made a non-committal sound. Mauricio's eyes widened and he smiled.

Cotton felt her jaw drop "I was joking, are you serious?" She asked.

Rikvah smiled "nothing is certain yet, I should know better in a few weeks but there is a strong maybe."

"Wonderful woman" Mauricio exclaimed and picked her up by the waist and spun her around.

"I will leave you to it then." Cotton said and turned to go.

"Thank you for the goblin catching boss," Rikvah said.

"Anytime" Cotton smiled and walked back to her wagon. She had her own tent to set up. She did not have a team of family to help her but luckily she did not need one.

Bones stood stoically next to the cart. Cotton had not tied his reins to anything, but he had not moved an inch.

"You would look much more like a living horse if you would walk off or eat some grass from time to time." Cotton said.

Bones looked at her a long moment and then sat down, like a dog. "Whinning or chuffing would also help." Cotton said. She pulled back the tarp and retrieved her violin case from the cart. She opened it and took a moment to admire the marvelous instrument. It had belonged to her father. The varnish was a deep red and it was double edged in black ebony inlay. The strings stood out from the dark of the instrument gleaming gold. The look of the instrument was matched only by its sound. Cotton quickly tightened her bow, set the instrument up on her shoulder and began to play. She pulled the bow across the strings and breathed with the sound. She played up and down a scale and then began to play the shape of a melody. The gold strings on the violin gave it a warm and malleable sound. As she played the polls of her tent picked themselves up from the cart and began to place themselves at the appropriate spots in the ground. The cloth of the tent as well unpacked and unfurled itself. The stakes drove themselves into the ground. Once the tent was up and assembled the rest of her things began to move themselves into it until her wagon was empty.

Cotton followed the last of her things in, and watched as everything took its place from the rugs on the floor to the lanterns that hung from the ceiling. As the last of her things took their place  She let go of the magic and played just for herself. Cotton thought of her father and how he would play to her till she fell asleep at night when she was a child. She thought of the warm sounds of his playing before he would hand her the violin and try to have her replicate them. She was now a long way off from the shrieking cat sounds that she pulled from the violin when she first tried to play. She was even a long way from the elegy she played the day she buried her father. Everything had changed after her father's death. Cotton set the violin back in its case and closed the lid. She took a deep breath and looked about her room.

It was snug and cozy. Rugs covered the floor. Against one wall of the tent was a small cot where she slept covered in a familiar collection of blankets. Against the next wall sat a table that doubled as desk and vanity topped with a small square mirror. There was a second full length mirror that stood on the floor next to the desk. A trunk and a small shelf took up the wall opposite her bed. The trunk was full of clothes and other various necessities and the shelf was full of the tinny odds and ends she had picked up in her travels. Each little trinket, or stone, or piece of pottery, or pewter had with it a specific memory. Some of them were memories of specific souls. On top of the shelf was a miniature portrait of her father. In it he was holding her as a baby. He looked just how she remembered him.

"Hey boss?" The Horse Thief called from outside.

"Yes?" She replied

He leaned in through the flap "Gemma says food is ready so if you want to eat hot food the time is now."

"Perfect." Cotton said. She walked out of the tent past him. "Have you given any more thought to your contract?"

The Horse Thief chuffed out a long sigh. "We're going to Corsaña right?"

"That is correct."

"And it’s a big city?"

"You have been there before."

"So odds are, there has got to be a least one desperate person whose life we could improve, for a price."

Cotton smiled broadly. "Horse thief I do believe you are starting to get the hang of this."