"Harper!"

"Harper!" Beatrice's calls were lost in the wall of sound, stifled by the big band music coming from the grand stage in the center of the carnival as well as the crush of the crowd. She whipped around, turning in a circle, her breaths coming fast now.

Breathe in.

"Harper!"

Breathe out.

"Harper, where are you?"

Black spots crept into the corners of her vision, and she took another breath in. A hand tugged at her arm, and she leapt away, startled.

"Beatrice, are you okay? Are you having an asthma attack?" Eloise peered up at her through her glasses, brown curly hair glowing in the firelight. Beatrice struggled to answer, shaking her head when she couldn't. She didn't know which question she was answering.

"It's okay; my Mom has asthma attacks sometimes, and my brother hyperventilates when he's in small spaces. Just count and breathe at the same time."

Beatrice couldn't believe she was listening to her little sister's crush for anxiety advice. She still did as she was told, half-surprised despite her schooling in nursing when it worked.

"Eloise, I can't find Harper," she said as soon as she could gasp it out. Eloise frowned.

"I know, I couldn't find her either. I tried to get the others to stop, but..." she trailed off, gesturing at the crowd vaguely. "I don't know, something about this place pulls people in. Harper especially."

Beatrice looked at her quizzically, her vision clearer now. "What do you mean, Harper especially?"

"Well, she's always talking about it," Eloise explained, fiddling with a frayed edge of her jean jacket. "She says she dreams about it, and I think--," she grimaced, "the whole thing with your secret just drew her in more."

"My secret?"

"Yeah."

They both trailed off, and Beatrice was twelve-years-old again, distracted by a tray of jewels as she and Alice explored the carnival. She'd never told Harper what happened to Alice-- Harper would've been too young to remember her, and Beatrice was too young then to have the words.

"We have to find her," Beatrice said, pulling herself together. Eloise nodded. "Where did you last see her?"

"The magician's tent."

The pair hurried to the magician's tent, stopping short when they found the tent flaps closed. Beatrice surged ahead, drawing aside the silk with little effort. The magician sprung from her seat on the small stage where she sat with her assistant, face shadowed by the dim lantern light.

"What are you doing in here? You're not supposed to--"

"I'm looking for my sister. About this tall, red hair; caught your bouquet?" Beatrice motioned to where Harper's height would've been, just below her  slim shoulder. Her urgency brought the magician up short.

"I--" she paused, "I'm sorry, I haven't seen her, and I do that act every ten minutes, a single bouquet..." she shrugged apologetically. Her assistant watched the exchange, his blonde brow furrowing above green eyes. Beatrice realized they could be twins, for as much as he mirrored the magician.

"I remember her. The one in the front. She had freckles and long earrings."

"Yes, that's her; did you see where she went?"

He shook his head. "No, but I may know where you can find her."

He leapt off the stage, landing gracefully in his black leather boots and was half out the tent when his sister called after him.

"Dimitri, the time--"

"I know; I'll be back."

Beatrice checked her own watch, keeping one eye on him. It was an hour until midnight. How had time moved so quickly?

She grabbed Eloise's hand, both girls jogging to keep up with Dimitri. His long hair was tied back by a leather cord, eye-level with Beatrice as they darted through the carnival, passing vendors and food stalls with sugary sweets and savory pies. Eloise slowed, but Beatrice urged her on.

The carnival went on forever, the steps ahead of them taking up less and less space on the well-beaten footpath.

She was sweating, her brow wet and her breaths heavy. Her head felt light again, and she was getting dizzy from snapping it back and forth to look for Harper. Beatrice let go of Eloise's hand to wipe her forehead, and reached down to catch it again, straightening when she grabbed a much larger one.

Dimitri looked back at her, expressionless, but squeezed her hand. Beatrice blushed, dropping it and grabbing Eloise's arm instead.

She stumbled into Dimitri when he stopped, pulling Eloise with her. They stood beside him, looking up at the sign above the tent.

"Madame Reverie?"

"Yes."

He charged in, and they followed, eyes adjusting to the violet light. Beatrice rushed forward, lurching into her sister. Harper sat with her palm open on the circular table, gazing emptily into space.

She hugged Harper, pulling her away from the maroon-draped table.

"Harper! Where have you been? We've been looking--" She trailed off as she realized the tent was silent. A woman draped in shawls and masked in a porcelain mask like the gate worker's stared back at her and then glared at Dimitri.

"You're interrupting a session."

"Yes, I'm sure we are," Dimitri drawled. They glared at each other, but he turned back to Beatrice and Harper, the latter which was eerily quiet. "You three need to get going."

"But we just got here," Harper protested, murmuring.

"You need to leave," Dimitri urged again. Pushing them out of the tent. A cannon went off as they left the tent, followed quickly by another. "Quickly."

He grabbed Beatrice's upper arm that wrapped around Harper, dragging the group. He reached into his other pocket, pulling forth a handful of gold dust.

"What is that? No, no, no more magic!" She tried to stop him before he threw it over them but couldn't, instead shielding Harper and Eloise the best she could. Her eyes shut of their own accord, and her stomach churned as if on a rocking boat. She heard Harper and Eloise call out, but she couldn't open her eyes. She felt herself falling to the ground but couldn't stop.

The spinning stopped abruptly, and she sat up slowly. Harper and Eloise lay on the snow patched grass beside her. The cold moon shown above them, and the carnival was nowhere to be found.

She flopped backwards, breathing a sigh of relief.

Beatrice ignored the burning of her hand, missing as the ferris wheel morphed. The outer rim smoothed, and the inner circle segmented, becoming a final shape. A snake circled a shining eye, eating its own tail and sneering, the gold ink matching the note she hadn't felt slipped into her pocket.

In her mind, the Aurum Carnival would never return. At least for now.