snake.
He didn't answer immediately, and for a while I thought he wasn't going to, but in the end he sighed and began to speak.
"Mr. Tiny is the leader of the Little People," he said.
"The small guys in the blue-hooded capes?" I asked.
"Yup. He calls them Little People. He's their boss. He doesn't come here a lot - it's been two years since I last saw him - but he gives me the creeps when he does. He's the spookiest man I've ever met."
"He looked all right to me," I said.
"That's what I thought the first time I saw him," Evra agreed. "But wait till you've spoken to him.
It's hard to explain, but every time he looks at me, I feel like he's planning to slaughter, skin, and roast me."
"He eats people?" I asked, freaked out.
"I don't know," Evra said. "Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. But you get the feeling he wants to eat you. And it's not just me being stupid; I've talked about it with other members of the Cirque and they feel the same way. Nobody likes him. Even Mr. Tall gets fidgety when Mr. Tiny's
around."
"Well, the Little People must like him, don't they?" I asked. "They follow and obey him, right?"
"Maybe they're scared of him," Evra said. "Maybe he forces them to obey him. Maybe they're his slaves."
"Have you ever asked them?"
"They don't talk," Evra said. "I don't know if it's because they can't or if they don't want to, but nobody in the circus has ever been able to get a word out of them. They're really helpful and they'll do whatever you ask but they're as silent as walking dummies."
"Have you ever seen their faces?" I asked.
"Once," Evra said. "Usually they don't let their hoods slip, but one day I was helping a couple of them move a heavy machine. It fell on one of the Little People and crushed him. He didn't make a sound, even though he must have been in a huge amount of pain. His hood fell to the side and I caught a glimpse of his face.
"It was disgusting," Evra said quietly, stroking the snake. "Full of scars and stitches all crumpled together, like some giant had squeezed it with his claws. He didn't have ears or a nose, and there was some kind of mask over his mouth. The skin was gray and dead-looking, and his eyes were like two green bowls near the top of his face. He didn't have hair, either."
Evra shivered at the memory. I felt cold myself, thinking about his description.
"What happened to him?" I asked. "Did he die?"
"I don't know," Evra said. "A couple of his brothers - I always think of them as brothers, though they probably aren't - came and took him away."
"You never saw him again?"
"They all look the same," Evra said. "Some are a little smaller or taller than the others, but there's no real way of telling them apart. Believe me - I've tried."
Weirder and weirder. I was really intrigued by Mr. Tiny and his Little People. I'd always liked mysteries. Maybe I could solve this one. Maybe, with my vampire powers, I could find a way to talk to one of the hooded creatures.
"Where do the Little People come from?" I asked.
"Nobody knows," Evra said. "There's usually about four or six of them with the Cirque.
Sometimes more turn up by themselves. Sometimes Mr. Tiny brings in new ones. It was weird that none were here when you came."
"You think it had something to do with me and Mr. Crepsley coming?" I asked.
"I doubt it," Evra said. "It was probably just a coincidence. Or fate." He paused. "Which is another thing: Mr. Tiny's first name is Desmond."
"So?"
"He tells people to call him Des."
"So?" I asked again.
"Put it together with his last name," Evra told me.
I did. Mr. Des Tiny. Mr. Des-Tiny. Mr...
"Mr. Destiny," I whispered, and Evra nodded seriously.
I was dying of curiosity and asked Evra a bunch more questions, but his answers were limited.
He knew almost nothing about Mr. Tiny, and only a little more about the Little People. They ate meat. They smelled funny. They moved around slowly most of the time. They either didn't feel pain or
He didn't answer immediately, and for a while I thought he wasn't going to, but in the end he sighed and began to speak.
"Mr. Tiny is the leader of the Little People," he said.
"The small guys in the blue-hooded capes?" I asked.
"Yup. He calls them Little People. He's their boss. He doesn't come here a lot - it's been two years since I last saw him - but he gives me the creeps when he does. He's the spookiest man I've ever met."
"He looked all right to me," I said.
"That's what I thought the first time I saw him," Evra agreed. "But wait till you've spoken to him.
It's hard to explain, but every time he looks at me, I feel like he's planning to slaughter, skin, and roast me."
"He eats people?" I asked, freaked out.
"I don't know," Evra said. "Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. But you get the feeling he wants to eat you. And it's not just me being stupid; I've talked about it with other members of the Cirque and they feel the same way. Nobody likes him. Even Mr. Tall gets fidgety when Mr. Tiny's
around."
"Well, the Little People must like him, don't they?" I asked. "They follow and obey him, right?"
"Maybe they're scared of him," Evra said. "Maybe he forces them to obey him. Maybe they're his slaves."
"Have you ever asked them?"
"They don't talk," Evra said. "I don't know if it's because they can't or if they don't want to, but nobody in the circus has ever been able to get a word out of them. They're really helpful and they'll do whatever you ask but they're as silent as walking dummies."
"Have you ever seen their faces?" I asked.
"Once," Evra said. "Usually they don't let their hoods slip, but one day I was helping a couple of them move a heavy machine. It fell on one of the Little People and crushed him. He didn't make a sound, even though he must have been in a huge amount of pain. His hood fell to the side and I caught a glimpse of his face.
"It was disgusting," Evra said quietly, stroking the snake. "Full of scars and stitches all crumpled together, like some giant had squeezed it with his claws. He didn't have ears or a nose, and there was some kind of mask over his mouth. The skin was gray and dead-looking, and his eyes were like two green bowls near the top of his face. He didn't have hair, either."
Evra shivered at the memory. I felt cold myself, thinking about his description.
"What happened to him?" I asked. "Did he die?"
"I don't know," Evra said. "A couple of his brothers - I always think of them as brothers, though they probably aren't - came and took him away."
"You never saw him again?"
"They all look the same," Evra said. "Some are a little smaller or taller than the others, but there's no real way of telling them apart. Believe me - I've tried."
Weirder and weirder. I was really intrigued by Mr. Tiny and his Little People. I'd always liked mysteries. Maybe I could solve this one. Maybe, with my vampire powers, I could find a way to talk to one of the hooded creatures.
"Where do the Little People come from?" I asked.
"Nobody knows," Evra said. "There's usually about four or six of them with the Cirque.
Sometimes more turn up by themselves. Sometimes Mr. Tiny brings in new ones. It was weird that none were here when you came."
"You think it had something to do with me and Mr. Crepsley coming?" I asked.
"I doubt it," Evra said. "It was probably just a coincidence. Or fate." He paused. "Which is another thing: Mr. Tiny's first name is Desmond."
"So?"
"He tells people to call him Des."
"So?" I asked again.
"Put it together with his last name," Evra told me.
I did. Mr. Des Tiny. Mr. Des-Tiny. Mr...
"Mr. Destiny," I whispered, and Evra nodded seriously.
I was dying of curiosity and asked Evra a bunch more questions, but his answers were limited.
He knew almost nothing about Mr. Tiny, and only a little more about the Little People. They ate meat. They smelled funny. They moved around slowly most of the time. They either didn't feel pain or
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