Page 21 of Enter if you Dare: Part Two

The residential area sits in rows of houses. Some staff share, and others have a place to themselves. The last house has a garden out the front, tomatoes, herbs, and a wind chime with the clapper removed, so it never makes a sound. I don’t knock, as he will hear me coming.

“Heavy footsteps for a quiet man,” the Jester calls from inside. “Come in, corn king, the kettle is on.”

Inside, his house is clean, which unsettles me about him. Vesper calls him the island imbecile, and he thanks her for it. He is a recent addition to the island, and he may be someone I can tolerate for longer than two minutes.

He hands me a cup of tea I didn’t ask for when I enter the kitchen.

“How’s your girl’s first day?” he asks. “I saw you walking her in on my way home, very ‘bring your scarecrow to work’ day.” He picks up a ring of keys from a bowl on the counter. “Shall we?”

The basement is behind the pantry. He descends the stairs ahead of me, the bells on his costume ringing as he hits each step. The Jester told me when I first came here that the tinkling sound is a mercy, that his victims hear him coming and have time to prepare.

The basement smells of antiseptic. Two cells sit side by side, their iron bars designed to keep people from escaping. In the far cell is Steedy, or what is left of him. Whatever the Jester does to him is not my concern. He is alive, barely.

In the cell beside him is Rowan, who jumps off his cot and hits the bars with both hands. He is untouched, with not a mark on him. He is fed and watered and kept warm.

“You freak,” Rowan spits at me. “You can’t keep me here. People will look for me. I have friends.”

“You don’t, though, do you,” the Jester says in his musical voice. “We checked, you see. Your landlord re-listed your room. And the rest couldn’t care less about you.”

“My sister will⁠—”

“Careful,” the Jester cuts him off.

Rowan’s eyes dart between us. He learned quickly that saying Valli’s name would cost him. “This is kidnapping, and it’s illegal. When I get out of here . . .”

The Jester’s maniacal laughter overwhelms his words. “When,” the Jester repeats, dragging a stool over to sit nearby. “I love when; it’s my favorite. Do you know what the man next door said? He said when too. He is more of a listener now.”

From the far cell, Steedy’s breathing hitches, but he says nothing more. Rowan flinches, as he does at every sound Steedy makes. The Jester is good; I’ll give him that.

“Let me go,” Rowan says. “I’ll disappear—you’ll never hear from me again. I’ll leave the state and leave her alone.”

“I love when they bargain. But I want to be fair, so let me lay out your situation in small words.” He holds up one finger. “Steedy’s operation is gone, but now there are some angry men out there, and your name is one they will remember. If I let you go, you’re a loose end with legs. Your life expectancy is weeks at best, and that’s if you’re lucky.”

He holds up a second finger.

“In here you get fed. You’re warm, you may be bored, but you’re alive. Have we hurt you? No. Have we killed you? Also no. Notice a pattern yet? This is not a punishment. We are keeping you from causing trouble and getting yourself killed, which, given your track record, is a full-time job. One that your sister needs a break from worrying about.”

“Then what do you want?” Rowan asks, confused. “Everyone wants something.”

“Me? Nothing. I’m the innkeeper.” The Jester leans back and jerks a thumb at me. “Him, you could ask, but he won’t answer. If you want to know what’s keeping you breathing, I’ll tell you, because I’ve had time to work it out.”

He stands and wanders over to the bars and grips them.

“The night we brought you in, I asked him what we were going to do with you. Reasonable question, right? Logistics are my thing. This man looks at me and says, ‘I did not plant him, so I will not reap him. A weed and a flower share the same rain. Only her hands hold the end.’”

Rowan stares at him in silence.

“Yeah,” the Jester says. “That was me too. Took me two days and a whiteboard, but I got there in the end. Here’s the translation, so listen closely.” He leans into the bars. “The only person in this world who gets to kill you is your sister.”

Rowan laughs. “Valli won’t kill me.”

“Probably not, she seems lovely,” the Jester agrees. “But that’s the deal. Your life belongs to her now. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

“You’re all insane.”

The Jester holds up a finger and silences Rowan. “This is the fine print, so pay attention. The riddle covers killing. Nobody said one word about a little friendly torture between two strangers.” He smiles and the paint on his mouth stretches wider. “And you and I, Rowan, are strangers. I was almost shot multiple times because of you. That cost me a good coat. I have been patient because the gentleman next door had seniority, but he is nearly through his rehabilitation program.” He glances at the far cell. “And after that my schedule opens right up.”

Rowan backs up until he is sitting on his cot. I think he is finally realizing that no one is coming for him, and hopefully he is feeling a little of what he put his sister through over the years.