The journey back to the carnival was as uneventful and nearly as silent as the first leg of their journey to the river. Owen and Lira plodded along in a haze of exhaustion while the injured Genzel road atop the uninjured kelpie who followed Lira like a particularly devoted dog with little guidance from the lead rope.

She suspected the injured chestnut stallion was only following because they held the black mare and because its shoulder prevented it from making an escape. Lira didn't know if the injury mattered or not for the purpose of Genzel's carousel horses; she didn't care, all she wanted was her bed. It was strange to feel a sense of relief wash over her as the crenulated tent tops came into view.

It's only because I know what to expect here, she told herself. The group picked their way down the slope toward the carnival where Atlas and Jacks met them halfway. Jacks wordlessly took the guide rope from Lira and began leading the horse and injured carver in the direction of the paddocks. The black horse glanced over its shoulder at Lira but allowed Jacks to lead her away. Owen followed, towing the second horse, meeting Lira's eyes only once.

"We'll talk later," his gaze said.

They left Atlas and Lira to continue together in the direction of the funhouse.

"I see you were successful," said Atlas after several minutes. She was in her usual white tunic, walking barefoot through the dead grass.  Though Lira didn't envy her unprotected feet scraping against the cutting stalks, she found she was looking forward to removing her boots.

"You could say that," said Lira, glancing at the retreating forms of the others.

Their conversation with Zabaria came rushing back along with the questions the reigning forest spirit had thrown at them rather than answers. She longed to confide in Atlas about her fears for her trapped soul, but she knew she couldn't without admitting they had found Zabaria.

"What did you think of the spirit world outside the carnival?" asked Atlas. There was no probing or suspicion in her voice. Just mild curiosity.

"Just as confusing as inside the carnival."

Atlas gave a musical laugh. "It has that effect on you. It takes some getting used to."

"And do you get used to it?" asked Lira.

"More or less. I assume it's very like the human world. Learn as you go."

Not the human world. Our world, thought Lira. "What was it like the first time you left?" she asked instead. She knew Atlas wouldn't answer anything too direct about her duties, but abstract inquiries were usually okay.

"Very much like the first time I had to carry a message for my father. Dark and intimidating. Here though, I am protected. Bebinn's name keeps me safe on journeys where my father's name could not."

Protected was never a word Lira would use in terms of Bebinn, but she could understand why Atlas might feel that way. They came from two very different lives.

"I know you don't want to go back," said Lira, choosing her words carefully. "But what if things could be different? You don't have to go back to your family if you return. You could start a new life."

"What is there for me in the human world that I don't have here?" asked Atlas. Her tone was light, not interrogational. Lira wondered if it was a rhetorical question. Atlas was speaking like the idea was abstract, a fantasy.

"Freedom?" ventured Lira.

"We are not prisoners here, Lira," said Atlas, sweeping out her arm. "I know it feels that way to you, but Bebinn can be very understanding if you give her a chance." She held up a hand as Lira opened her mouth. "You fight her at every turn. I know she can be a bit—overbearing—but if you prove yourself to her, she will relax her hold."

Not likely thought Lira.

"And with the success of your trip, you've taken a large step into her good graces," continued Atlas.

Lira bit her lip and watched the grass fold under her boots. She doubted that she would ever be far enough in Bebinn's good graces to convince her to send her home. So why bother trying? Why not fight until she found a way to free herself—or die trying?

"I know you don't care for this world the same way I do. From what I remember of the human world there's nothing there I miss. Here, I can eat what I want when I want. Choose what I want to do in my free time. I can come and go as I please. Yes, I have a duty, a task, just like you, but I have a purpose here. If I were to go back, I wouldn't have a purpose and very little chance of finding it again. The human world is just the place before this one. Why go back if I'm already here?"

Lira sighed and mentally gave up her battle to make Atlas see reason. She would never get the other girl to see eye-to-eye with her on the status of their freedom. If they ever did find a way to free themselves, if Atlas was given a real choice, what world would she choose?

"I understand why you don't want to go back. But you must understand why I do. I have a family who misses me—who I miss. I had a life I want a chance at before I reach this place."

"I wish I could change it," said Atlas. She cocked her head and offered Lira a rare smile. "But I promise to do everything I can to make you happy here. You're my friend and I don't want you to be unhappy."

Would you do everything you could to send me home? But she couldn't ask that. She switched gears.

"How well did you know Baleros?" she asked instead.

The little girl shrugged, the long sleeves of her tunic swaying with the motion, giving her the appearance of wings. "Not particularly well. He was reclusive for the most part."

"Did you ever interact with him?"

"Occasionally."

"Was he always so—" Lira tried to find the right words, but then blurted out, "He seemed kind of twisted." She found it hard to describe the previous violinist without seeing herself become warped. Was that what she was destined to become?

"Baleros was here before me. I'm not even quite sure how long, so I don't know what he was like before. It did seem though that he got stranger the longer I was here. He only came out of his room to play the carousel and he always looked angry or was muttering under his breath."

"Do you think...playing the violin did that to him?" Lira asked.

Atlas laughed and it sounded like wind chimes. It was a strange thought to have in a place with no wind. "I'm no musician but I don't think playing would have turned him dark. He was probably troubled before he came here and it got worse over time."

A dark afterlife prison with a ruthless overseer will do that to a person.

"Is that why Bebinn got rid of him?" Lira asked quietly. She had often wondered why Bebinn had taken her when she already had a perfectly good violinist. She didn't like to think that he had been killed so she could take his place and had tried to comfort herself with the idea that he had done something to deserve it, but she could never come up with an idea that justified the way he was killed.

Atlas shrugged again, not seeming troubled with the idea. "I don't know all of Bebinn's thoughts. Perhaps she saw something in you that was missing him."

Or his soul had become too twisted for Bebinn to use anymore. Lira swallowed hard and tried to push the thoughts to the back of her mind. If she talked about it anymore in this moment, she would fall apart. She cast her mind wide trying to find a new topic that would take them the rest of the way through the carnival.

"Have you seen Lydia lately?" she asked as they turned right at the carousel and continued down the main throughway. The tents closed in on them and Lira suddenly felt claustrophobic after the wide-open expanse of the rest of the spirit world.

"No, why?" said Atlas.

Lira shrugged. "She usually comes to dinner at least once a week."

"Bebinn must be keeping her busy."

"Maybe we could visit her. She must get lonely."

"She likes being alone," said Atlas knowingly. "Besides, if she's busy Bebinn wouldn't want us interrupting her."

Lira let the subject go. She didn't want to push too much and risk tipping Atlas off. Her skin itched with the guilt of keeping secrets. It's necessary. Just for now. Besides, Atlas keeps her own secrets too.

She knew Atlas's secrecy was most likely Bebinn's orders, just like Lira was supposed to practice only in her room and keep her sheet music locked away when she wasn't there. But if Atlas could keep them, so could Lira.

"Has Misti cooked dinner yet?" she asked instead. "I'm starving."