Circus Galacticus Read Online Free

Only a red-curtained doorway under a big, shimmery sign that says HALL OF MIRRORS. Do I dare go in? What if I get trapped inside? Nyl's breathing rasps so loud I could swear he's right behind me. I risk a look back. Nothing.
    In the distance, something clicks, and a whole row of display cases go dark.
Click.
Another row blinks out.
Click.
And another. Pretty soon it'll be pitch-black in here. He's driving me with darkness. I've got nowhere else to run. I push through the curtain.
    Warped reflections goggle at me. Turning one way, I see myself impossibly thin with a head like a watermelon. Another, and I'm a potbellied string bean. There's a wiggly Trix, a short Trix, a tall Trix. The only thing they all have in common is hot-pink hair and desperate eyes.
    "Okay, I'm here," I whisper to the mirrors. "Where are my answers?" I spin, searching the reflections. "Come on! There was secret writing and everything. It must have meant something. I can't just be going insane."
    Nothing happens.
    "There's nowhere to run, Beatrix. Stop fighting me."
    I bite down hard on the scream that tries to force its way out of my throat. It sounds like he's right on the other side of that red curtain. I back away, until my shoulder blades meet the undulating coolness of the farthest mirror. Nowhere else to run.
    The curtain trembles. A gray-gloved hand pushes through. My splayed fingers brush the smooth surface behind me. Then, suddenly, I'm falling backward. Right through the mirror.

CHAPTER 3
Through the Looking Glass

    I STUMBLE, trying to figure out what happened. Narrow corridors twist away on either side, cluttered with boxes and bins. An oblong of dark glass fills the wall in front of me.
    You dork, I tell myself. It's not a magic portal. It's some kind of secret sliding door. Judging by the jumble of sequined costumes, hoops, and bowling pins, I must be somewhere backstage, inside the big top itself maybe, since I can hear the distant beat of music. Question is, am I safe?
    I lean closer to the dark glass, trying to see the room beyond, then leap back. Nyl's right on the other side of the glass, staring at me.
    My heartbeat throbs in my ears, the only part of me that isn't frozen, for a long, long moment. Nyl lifts a hand toward the glass. I get the impression he's trying to touch it. Then he clenches his fist, swinging it down to his side.
    Can he even see me? I force one arm to move, waving it in front of the mirror. Now that I think about it, this stuff looks a lot like that one-sided glass you see in cop shows.
    No reaction. Nyl stands there, staring. Then he turns and stalks out of the room. I don't breathe until the red curtains swing closed behind him. I back away from the mirror door. There's no way I'm going out that way. Besides, the poster promised me answers, and I'm not leaving until I've got some. There's got to be someone here who knows something. The music seems louder to the left, so I head that way.
    As I pass the heaps of boxes, I squint at them. The labels are in another language, some crazy alphabet I don't even recognize. But it's that same silvery paint as on the poster. I reach out to touch the letters, only to snatch my hand back. The gibberish is gone, replaced by a perfectly recognizable word: FRAGILE.
    Whoa. I try another. HIGHLY DANGEROUS. I back away, and not only because of the warning. This is freaking me out almost as much as the stalker in the gas mask who wants to "cleanse" me. Maybe it's some kind of optical illusion. I keep going, but I make a point of checking all the boxes as I pass by. Who knows? Maybe one of them will be labeled ANSWERS.
    The music is louder, so I must be getting somewhere. I've just found a large barrel to be used IN CASE OF WEEVIX INFESTATION when I hear voices. I can't make them out at first, but as I get closer the words grow clear, like I'm tuning in to the station. I skulk behind a tower of hatboxes labeled PROPERTY OF THE GRAND WAZEER OF DENEB -5, listening.
    "I said I would