Part I: Daedalus

  • Monkey Face
  • The Woman in the Cage
  • [A Snake in the Darkness
  • Carlucci
  • The Dragon
  • Lollo
  • Tracks in Snow
  • Greetings from the Hereafter
  • A good Day to die
  • The laughing Man
  • Tooth for Tooth

Part II: Icarus

  • Goodbye, little Man
  • The cutoff Head
  • Magic Artifacts
  • Speaking of the Devil
  • On the Run
  • First Attack
  • Talks in late Evening
  • Lollo once again
  • Looking for the Enemy
  • Chess
  • The Mask drops
  • The Bats
  • The Confession
  • Dance of the Dead
  • King of the Sky
  • Epilogue

 

Chapter 1: Monkey Face

Although it cost him some considerable effort, Jaco tried a challenging smile. The boy standing in front of him with his arms crossed, gave him a disparaging look. "You'll stop laughing, monkey face," he said. His two companions, an expression of barely concealed aggression in their eyes, bellowed. The taller of the two, not only because of his blazing hair called Turnip, towered Jaco by more than half a head.

"Likewise!" Jaco's voice was rough and shivering a bit, but nobody noticed. So far so good. His heart pounded, breathing got increasingly difficult. All in all, he thought, the prospect of getting out of this situation seemed more than dubious.

"Come on, Olin!", the redhead cried. "This time he's not going to escape."

"Patience, Turnip! Let's enjoy it!", Olin sneered. The redhead grunted approvingly while the third, slightly smaller than the other two, scoffed contemptuously at Jaco's feet. His brawny figure suggested that he too was a not to be underestimated opponent.

"You risk a big mouth. My dad says people like you do not belong here. They should be chased away. "

Jaco bit back an angry snort. Olin, of course, as always. He was neither taller nor stronger, and he would easily defeat him in a fair fight, but as the mayor's son he could draw on an astonishing number of willing accomplices waiting to show their allegiance. His big blue eyes, crowned with blond eyelashes, lay in an angelic face. It was that cold, ruthless look Jaco feared most.

The dullness in his stomach intensified. He knew that there was little time left. In their last argument, he had used a little inattention but this time he saw no gap in their front. They had chosen the right spot, a backyard leading to a locked gate. Maybe he could get away with a bit of luck with a few scratches, but looking at the face of his opponents showed him that he could not count on mercy.

Olin eyed him as if he knew exactly what was going on in Jacos mind. "Well, now it's your turn! You're all alone, and the way I see it, you have no chance." He eyed Jaco with obvious reluctance as he pretended to suppress a yawn. "Actually, it's a waste of time, but since we're here ... Do you want to defend yourself? Or run away like the last time?"

"You need so many helpers to fight with me?" Jaco asked coolly. His eyes kept turning left and right, still hoping to find a way out.

"No," Olin replied, "but it's more fun."

Again the bellowing of the other guys.

"We'e waiting."

"Cowards," Jaco said more quietly than he felt. "You feel pretty strong with your bodyguards?"

"Shut up!" The redhead snapped.

"Rat ass!" The third grunted. "You'll squeal like a pig!" The effort to wait for the attack obviously required all his self-control.

Don't answer. Stay calm.

Jaco thought that he had done quite well in the previous fights and he would love to show them another time that he wasn't a coward. Hit me, come on ... hit me ...

They took a step, but Jaco did not back off. "Ah, so you want to fight. That's even better. Don't you agree, boys?" Olin shouted. The answer was a laugh, a shrill, over-excited laugh. He nudged Jaco with his index finger in the ribs, poisonous, painful.

This will not end well.

"Come on!" The redhead screamed, "let's finish it!"

"Idiot!" Jaco growled. He could feel the anger raising. He knocked Olin's hand aside and balling his fists, he prepared for the first blow to come. His thoughts were racing ... he could try to break their phalanx, but the ring around him was tight ... or attack first, trying to use their surprise for a quick escape ... or else ... At that moment, he had an idea, maybe not the best, and it was a big risk, but it was the only one he had. A spark of hope flared up. He lowered his fists.

"You give up? Fine ..." Olin grinned. "Time for a last prayer."

Jaco saw the triumphant gleam in his opponents eyes, and while Olin was still thinking about the first blow, Jaco leaned back until his head touched the wall, leapt forward with the weight of his body, and slammed his forehead into Olins face.

There was short and dry cracking noise when Olin's nose broke. He dropped to his knees with a scream. It had become deadly quiet. The other boys stood motionless, staring open-mouthed at their leader, who was squatting on the ground, his hands whimpering against his face. A thin red trickle dripped through his fingers into the dirt.

There was the chance. Jaco jumped over Olin and ran down the alley.

 

He was aware of the fact that at most he had a few minutes. His pulse pounded in his temples while he tried to catch his breath in a doorway. The hope that the unexpected outcome of the brawl would calm his opponents for a while, was disappointed. Barely half a minute later he heard the indignant shriek of the gang, and the redhead already appeared at the top of the alley, behind him the not less versatile third in the league.

If they caught him, it would be bad for him. A broken nose was more than the usual brawl, it was a declaration of war. He looked up as he heard the sound of drums and organs in the distance and the shouts of a man who praised his goods. The fair! Now he noticed the people streaming in flocks towards the market square. He pushed quickly through the leisurely strolling people. He had expected to easily find a hiding place in the middle of the fray, a market stall or a curtain behind which he could crawl, but with the exception of a pile of boxes, nothing caught his eye. With a big leap he hopped behind it, and the cries of his pursuers threateningly close, he drew in his head. For a moment he thought he could feel their shadows on the hiding place, but there were only two men who made fun of a third, and then went away with a bleating laugh.

After a few minutes, finally feeling safe, he dared to breathe again. And now he also felt the throbbing pain on his forehead and the bump that was on it. After all the head butt he'd put to Olins head had not been his best idea. But at the comforting memory of the cracking of Olin's breaking nose, he had a warm feeling.

"What are you doing?" A bright voice asked.

Jaco looked up, startled. A young girl regarded him reproachfully. On her shoulder a brightly feathered bird sat, looking around uneasily. "There is nothing to steal from us."

"What?"

"Are you hard of hearing? I said there is nothing to steal. "

Jaco gasped. "To steal? What -"

She interrupted him with an imperious gesture. "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Jaco felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. "That's too much! I'm just here - "

"Be quiet! You only make things worse. "

Before he could reply with a sharp retort, there was a hoarse croak. Rogue! The bird stared at him out of his small sly eyes. The plumage twitched. Rascal! he croaked, Rover! Thief!

That was too much. The girl took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. Only now did Jaco realize that her face was white and dusted, her lips a light raspberry red.

"Just because I'm hiding here, I'm not a crook."

"You are!"

"I'm not!"

"Why do you have to hide? Did you do something? "

Jaco decided to ignore the outrageous brat, patted the dust off his pants and turned to leave.

"Not so fast!", she commanded, reaching for his arm.

"That's enough! Let me go, otherwise I will - "

A heavy hand lay on his shoulder and pulled him around. An odd-looking, weather-beaten man stood in front of him. His physique not only revealed concentrated power, it seemed to be made of granite. Despite his average height, he looked huge, with square shoulders and powerful upper arms.

"Gorgon!", the girl said. "I think that guy wanted to steal from us. "

"That's not true!" Jaco shouted. "I just wanted to hide. Leave me alone! "He stared for a moment into the man's scarred face, then ducked and was about to run away. He had no chance. Before he got away, he dangled in the man's fist, holding him like a sack of flour.

"That's fine," the girl laughed. "Now you're in trouble!"

Rogue! Rover! Thief!

"Let me go! I did not do anything, "Jaco gasped, trying hard to free himself from the steel grip, but in vain. The more he tried, the wider the man's grin became.

"If you haven't noticed - this is our strongman," the girl said proudly. "He can even pick up a horse."

"What's going on here?", someone who had approached unnoticed asked. Jaco stopped struggling and looked into the blackest eyes he had ever seen. The man was tall, at least at first glance, for his gaunt figure and clothes made him look taller than he actually was. He wore baggy black pants that reached over the ankles of his boots, a dark blue smock and a high, pointed-bowed hat on his head.

"I caught him," the girl said proudly. "A thief! Certainly one of those village humps. "

"Well," said the man, a mocking smile around his mouth. "A village hunk, then. Are you? Or is good Serafina exaggerating again?" He spoke slowly as if he had to weigh every word carefully. "The boy does not look very dangerous. Let him down!"

Gorgon, still holding Jaco in his outstretched arm as if he were a mangy tomcat, opened his fist and disappeared laughing around the corner. Jaco stumbled to his feet. "What is your name, my boy?" The man's voice was melodious, though dark and suppressed. "I'm Caligari, the magician, and this pretty girl here is Serafina. So, what is your name?"

"Jaco. And I'm not your boy!"

"Well, well, don't be excited! What do you want here?"

"That's obvious!" The girl called. "He wants -"

Caligari's reproving look made her silent. "So?"

"I had to hide. Someone was after me. "

"Someone?"

"A few guys. They wanted to beat me up."

"And why?" Caligari grinned. It was obviously a lot of fun for him.

Jaco pushed around before answering. "They call me monkey face. Or gypsy. And when they see me, they beat me. But today I resisted", he added proudly.

"Gypsies? I don't understand."

"Doesn't matter," Jaco growled. His cheeks were red.

Caligari stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "I understand. May I give you some advice? If you really want to get rid of them, once and for all, then you have to show them that you are not afraid and that everyone who gets involved with you gets punished. How you do that, I leave to your imagination. Understood? One strike, but right." He smiled complacently and patted his shoulders. "And now tell us more about you! Where do you live? Do you go to school?"

While Jaco hesitantly answered the sorcerer's questions, the girl stepped close to him. A barely perceptible scent of vanilla was in the air. But she did not seem to be giving up so fast. "He wanted to steal from us and now tells some fictional story, so what -"

"You have to excuse Serafina, she sometimes exaggerates," the wizard said, looking sternly at her. "That's what happens when you're the director's daughter. She's actually a sweet child, believe me ... You live alone. And what are you living on?"

"I work in a tavern."

"Then you do not need to steal!", Serafina pointed.

"I did not steal!" Jaco snorted. "When do you finally realize that?" She crossed her arms."What is did I steal? Come on, show it to me! "

"Easy!" Caligari said, "Serafina, your sense of justice in all honor, but here we are obviously dealing with a special case."

"A special case?", the girl cried indignantly.

"I guess so. So, my young friend, I believe you. And to compensate you for our initial mistrust, we invite you to the next performance. But I want to ask you for a favor. You stand right in front of the curtain, and whatever happens, let it happen, okay? "

 

A few seconds after the clock at the nearby church tower stroke two o'clock, a hellish roar of trumpet blasts and drums whizzed across the fair. In no time the spectators crowded in dense rows in the middle of the marketplace. Colored pennants fluttered in the wind, and on a red-painted pole hung a flag, in large letters on it Circus Magico was written. The expectant mumbling subsided as the curtains slid aside.

On the left side stood a half-naked man, a white turban, decorated with little birds, on his huge skull. In front of him, a dwarf blew false notes from a childrens trumpet and at the same time pounded eagerly on a battered drum. He wore a shapeless red nose, and his shoes, peeking out from a ghastly plaid yellow trousers, would have been a few sizes too big for a giant. At the last sound, a small pointed-bellied man hopped out. With an elegant movement he pulled the crooked cylinder from his head and revealed full white hair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, honorable audience, dear children," he began, "I would like to welcome you on behalf of the artists and invite you to participate in our absolutely unique program. I have the great pleasure of introducing you to our attractions. Never before in the world of the circus has one seen such a combination of skill, grace and elegance." The audience laughed at the little man who showed his enthusiasm so blatantly. "But no more long speeches," he said, "let's get started!"

The dwarf put down the instrument and announced the first number. The audience winced at the sound of his voice. It was not only loud, it sounded low and jarring, like the timbre of a wrong-tuned wind instrument.

Now the half-naked man came to life and reached for a torch. Seconds later, resin dripped to the ground, a yellow-black plume of smoke rose to the sky, pursued by countless pairs of eyes. The next moment a flame shot out of his mouth, enthusiastic clapping accompanied them on the way to the clouds.

Over the next hour, one titbit after the other was presented to the audience. The spectators were entranced, and the applause at the end of each number swelled to a hurricane. Jaco let himself be carried away by the excitement, but he remained alert and kept looking over his shoulder. It was possible that his pursuers were still on his heels.

The director, who announced the next number, brought Jaco back to the show. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said muffled, "we will now have the special pleasure of enjoying Madame Olga's inimitable ability. But before we start, a few words to the extraordinary artist, whose presence will delight you in a few minutes." He stopped and looked seriously at the sky. "The story I want to tell you is unfortunately true. Little Olga suffered from nightmares in her childhood, which sometimes left her unable to sleep for days. Her mother used to watch over her bed when it was particularly bad, but imagine her horror when, one day, in a sleepy trance, the child suddenly began to speak and warned against a journey that would kill them all ... Madame knew what to do. She canceled the trip against her husband's will, and was happy and sad at the same time as, after a few weeks, they heard that a terrible misfortune had killed several travelers." Again the director paused meaningfully. "Please, ladies and gentlemen, welcome her with a warm applause!"

Jaco raised his eyebrows in surprise as he caught sight of a woman sitting in a chair with her head down, surrounded by an aura that enveloped her like an invisible cloak of something dark and fragile. She was around forty, short and delicate, dressed in black velvet. The hair fell over her face, on which lay a corpse-like pallor. Under the whispered "Oh!" And "Ah!" Of the audience, she slowly stepped forward and made herself comfortable in a chair dressed in burgundy plush.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I do not need to introduce the following gentleman to you. Here comes Caligari! "

Grave silence spread. A figure stepped in from the side wall. Jaco involuntarily held his breath. Until now the show had been fun, but now he was struck by a strange feeling of discomfort.

The wizard's words, melodic and razor-sharp at the same time, cut through the grave silence, which suddenly lay like a dark cloud over the rows of spectators. "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you and suggest that you accompany us into the labyrinth of winding paths, into the mysterious world of the occult, into the mystical sphere of the supernatural!"

The spectacle began. With a slight bow to the clairvoyant, he raised the candlestick to eye level and began mumbling in a foreign language until her head sank to her breast.

"Well, let's get started ... Olga, are you ready to answer my questions?" She nodded slowly. "Olga, please tell me the first name of the Gentleman on the left in the first row!"

"His name is Adalbert."

Her answers sounded apathetic, very quiet, almost a whisper. As the wizard asked further questions and Olga's answers started with hesitant, then increasingly violent applause, Jaco stood on tiptoe to peer behind the curtains. A lady hesitantly asked a question about her deceased husband, but he did not listen, because a girl appeared between the cloths. Her eyes darted attentively over the audience.

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