Untitled - first 2 chapters

Chapter I – The Star of the North Acting Team and Comedy Troupe1

The cold winter wind whipped noisily outside as Square and his three other companions stepped through the door of the Mountain Dragon milk bar. Comber, the smallest of the troupe struggled to close it behind him as the strength of the wind outside made it seems as though there was another person on the other side, trying to push back. This kind of weather was not an unusual, or even a particularly unpleasant occurrence for the Town – it was a settlement far in the north where the sun rarely set or rarely rose, depending on what time of year it was. There was almost always snow on the ground, although in the summer months it only clothed the mountain tops in a thin sheet, but even that was pure-white enough to be seen from a distance. 2

Square removed his heavy hood and cloak, both of which were a dull grey colour, and the others did the same, and they all hung them on pegs next to the door. Square himself was a regular man. He was of average height, and average weight. He had a thick mane of blond hair which hung down to his shoulders, and a moustache which curled around his top lip, and then reached down past his chin on either side of his mouth. With him were his friends, Comber, who (as I have said) was the smallest of the four. He was also quite chubby, giving him an air of a tall man who had been squashed in an unfortunate accident. Hammock, who looked a lot like Square (who was his older brother), except that his chin was completely hairless, and Spike – a wide man who stood a whole head above most of the people in the Town (except the old astronomer). He had a beard which had grown almost to his belt, but his completely bald head stood in stark, almost comical juxtaposition to it, although no one ever dared to pass comment on it – at least not while he was around. 3

They all stepped heavily down the wooden steps and entered into the main bar area. There were several people dotted around in the room. They were all regulars, and sat in their favourite seats. 4

“Good evening,” a rough voice from behind the bar greeted them. It belonged to Wipp, the owner and proprietor.5

“Only half of that statement is true, my friend,” Square said glumly, as he and the others took four empty seats along the bar.6

“For the sake of my ears, I hope it’s the first half, and that my eyes are giving up in my gentleman years, making me believe it to still be late outside,” the bartender replied. He was a good man, and had a kind soul, though it had a habit of hiding when someone had a sob story to blurt out across his tables.7

“The Star of the North Acting Team and Comedy Troupe are out of work, and a day before the Town Carnival, it couldn’t have come at a more unfortunate time,” Square sighed as he said this, and his friends cringed. They all disliked how he always said the entire name of their group, rather than shortening it, despite their local fame.8

There was a short, loud laugh from behind them. “Again? Is there no more call for renditions of the old tales?” It was York, a young street magician who often conned his audience into being part of the show, so that he might put his finely-tuned pick pocketing skills to use while dozens of onlookers saw nothing. He wasn’t fond of Square and his friends, and often took pleasure in mocking them in front of others. “Even the oldest and greatest tales can be told too often,” he continued, “you should put your mind to creating something new, something unbelievable which flirts with the very edges of our understanding of reality. Perhaps, if I might be so bold as to offer a suggestion, the tale of how you four consider yourself talented enough to perform in front of people!” He laughed loudly, as did the two people sat in a dark corner. 9

These two people were Gammy and Gummy, the bizarre juggling twins. They often finished each other’s sentences, and often laughed at each other’s jokes, even when no one else was amused. It was difficult to tell them apart at the best of times. They both wore the same clothes and spoke the same voice, the only way you be sure of which one was which was when one mentioned the other by name, and they liked to play tricks on people by switching places when they weren’t looking. Sat as they were, either Gammy or Gummy was visible in the dim light of the bar, the other being mostly in the shadows in the corner, except for when he reached forward to grab his drink with a bony hand. Bizarre and mischievous as they were, they were gentle enough folk, if a little fickle, always swapping sides in debates and discussions depending on which argument tickled them the most.10

“Well said!” said one of them, “well said!” the other repeated.11

Square, who was not normally so easily flustered, but was in a foul temper without being mocked by York, grew angry and shouted across the bar, “and what talent we do possess, which, I might add, far surpasses your own by more than tenfold, is honest and good! We don’t take pride in lifting rusty coins and dirty cloths from our unsuspecting patrons, even more so, we condemn even the suggestion of it! It is talent,” he almost spat this last word, “like yours which makes the public wary and less accepting of real works of art performed by professional actors!” as he always liked to do, whatever his mood, Square rolled the r’s when he said ‘professional actors’. 12

There was a strict code amongst the street performers whereby one was not to bring into public light any unlawful actions of any of the fellow jesters. Work was hard enough to come by (except at this time of year, when the Carnival was upon the Town), and rumours and accusations would only make the search more difficult. Wipp’s milk bar, however, was a safe place for all sorts of insults to fly, and they might have done, if the hot-headed York had not seen the threatening scowl on Spike’s face – he was, after all, a big man. Instead, he grumbled under his breath and returned to his drink.13

Square turned back around to face Wipp with a satisfied smile. “I trust the others all have performances scheduled for tomorrow?” asked Comber (‘the others’ being the remainder of the street performers, some of whom were not present at the milk bar), nursing a jug of milk which he had been given while Square and York had argued. 14

“I believe so, yes,” answered Wipp. “There’s word of a few outlander’s, too. A fire-eater and a sword-dancer, among them.”15

There fell an awkward silence over the room then, and Wipp sighed loudly before asking, “go on then, what happened with your performance for the Carnival?” he was reluctant to listen, but polite enough to ask. He was surprised, however, when Square did not spend an age telling all the details of the story (as he often did), and simply replied: “people do not seem to appreciate the old tales any more. They are more entertained by the conjuring of items from thin air, or the twirling and tumbling of batons and people.”16

And so the evening passed. Everyone talked amongst themselves. Wipp with the four actors, Gammy and Gummy with themselves (although Square and his friends were sure they swapped places several times throughout the night), and York with Freya, who was Wipp’s pretty daughter and also the pretty waitress of the Mountain Dragon. They sat closely and talked quietly, their faces close together, as lovers often do.17

“Still, we should like to see the attractions tomorrow. Unemployment is hardly an excuse for being anti-social. It shall be a good day when we can drink a foaming beer and be entertained,” said Spike in his oddly gentle, yet booming voice. 18

“So you say,” said Square, still facing forward, “but unemployment is certainly an excuse for being glum.”19

“So you shan’t be there?” asked Wipp, raising his eyebrows.20

“I shall be there, yes,” Square replied casually, “but only to see the uselessness of the performers who are taking our place, and to let them know it themselves!”21

“Why are you in such a bad humour? We have had performances cancelled before, and we shall again, I don’t doubt,” Hammock commented.22

“Why are you not in a bad humour, Hammock? Tomorrow is the Carnival of Carnivals, and we shall not make a penny from it, whereas certain gentlemen,” Square said, motioning to York with his head, “will be making greater spoils than we have made all year! If injustice ever had a face, it is one of a magician.”23

It was true, the Star of the North Acting Team and Comedy Troup had suffered cancelled shows before, and would again. Square acted like this every time it happened, yet his friends endured it for the sake of peace. Often, he would rant and he would moan, but he would eventually calm himself and then it would be forgotten. And that is much how it happened this time, except his foul mood went on longer, if only because it was the day of the Carnival tomorrow.24

He sighed heavily, and after raising his jug to everyone individually (including York, who he disliked, for in a place so far north the settlements were few and far between, and it was custom to be courteous to everyone, whatever one’s opinion of someone was) he drank noisily the last few mouthfuls of his drink, said his goodbyes to his friends at the bar, and left them to their evening, telling them that he would wander the town a little before retiring. And that he did.25

Wrapping his cloak tightly around his shoulders, he put his head down and marched into the wind. As I have said, this weather wasn’t unusual, and the citizens of the Town were used to it. It was rare to hear a word of complaint from someone regarding the weather, except for when it was particularly unkind.26

At this late hour, the Town was still bustling with great enthusiasm. People could be seen everywhere, making their way through the shallow snow which fell slowly from the night sky. People carrying packages wrapped up in cloaks and clutched tightly to their chests, people dragging behind them wooden carts which were filled to the brim with all sorts of weird and wonderful oddities, and people sometimes with nothing in their arms, as they rushed back and forth to help their friends deliver parcels to their very specific destinations. Tomorrow was the Carnival, and what that meant was a great celebration. A celebration so great that one or two of the inhabitants of the Town who had moved there from places further south have said on more than one occasion that they had heard of the incredible festival, and even said that news of it travelled much further abroad. 27

Tomorrow would be the first day of the end of the winter months. During the winter, the sun is rarely visible, and although one had been able to see it during the day for several weeks now, tomorrow would be the first day that the entire sun would climb above the horizon, showing all of its spherical magnificence. 28

Square had fond memories of the Carnival as a child. He had lived in the Town his entire life, and had attended every Carnival every year (except for one, when, as a child he was too ill to leave his bed) and so had seen twenty four variations of the celebration. He used to watch with fondness as the old juggling twins, Pimmy and Jimmy (who were Gammy and Gummy’s father and uncle respectively), and how they would tumble about and toss all manner of things between each other. From colourful balls to swords and flaming sticks. They would somersault and roll about the courtyard with amazing agility, and not in the thirty years of their performing has anyone even claimed to have seen them drop something. When Square was eleven, he was asked to join in the performance with the jugglers. They stood him in between them, and threw their performing tools about him. He was mesmerised by the flashes of colour which shot past his head at a sometimes alarming proximity. He stood absolutely still as they threw knives around him, and he could hear the whoosh of the blade as it cut through the air by his ear. They assured him that the blades were dulled and that should anything go wrong, the worst he would receive would be a nasty bruise on the shoulder. He was, of course, reassured by this, but he gasped when after the performance Pimmy (or Jimmy, for they too were identical) threw one of the knives they had been using into a wooden post nearby with astounding accuracy. It stuck deep in the wood, and the crowd were silent for a moment, before cheering and clapping loudly, cries of “marvellous!” and “what brilliant performers!” coming from the audience which surrounded them.29

He remembered also an old alchemist who visited the Town one year to dazzle them all with his strange performance. His name was August, and he looked extremely aged. He was bent almost double and he needed the assistance of two people by his side to help him walk safely, but slowly. He had obviously travelled far, because his dark skin, wide eyes and strange accent were all unusual sights and sounds in the Town. He set up his instruments on a heavy table - jugs and jars, buckets and pipes, vases and bowls, all of varying heights, widths, depths and sizes, but all made of clear glass. He attracted a large crowd, for the word had spread fast that he was coming (as it always did with foreign performers – just as it had done for the fire-eater and sword dancer who were coming this year, and for whom there would doubtless be a large audience). He started to pour what looked like water into one of the containers, all the while muttering to himself. He would then start to pour from this container into the rest, until all the containers contained some of the liquid. Then, with alarming speed and dexterity for a man so old, he would tip and pour from one container into another, and from that one to another, and each time he did, the liquid began to change colour. He continued this until with the rhythm of his movements and pouring there were regular patterns of reds and purples, dark greens and bright blues, and every colour in between. The crowd were amazed into silence, but that was only the first part of his act. He set the containers down, and motioned to one of his assistants to bring something to him. It was a strange instrument, a sort of wooden box with copper pipes sticking out here and there. On the back there were several thin, flexible pieces of metal, which August dipped into each container – there was one wire for each, and they were weighted at the bottom with a large, rubber stop. He then began to pour again slowly, but this time there was not silence, though the sound was not from the crowd. The machine he had just set up made the sound of a musical note, and when the water changed colour, it made a different sound. There were so many colours and so many containers with liquid in, that when the old man began again to hypnotise his audience with the changing colours of the water, he was accompanied by a little orchestra. The song he made had since become a common tune in the Town, and every year at the Carnival since that performance, there is a rendition of the song. Sometimes it was a small instrumental piece with a few musicians (because it was too complex for one person alone), and sometimes there would be a singer, too, who would sing a wonderful tale of Old Man August, who travels the world to hypnotise and confuse. It was going to be the job of Square’s acting team and comedy troupe to this year portray the performance in their own way, but, as we know, it was not to happen for them. Square wondered who would perform the tale this year instead, as it was such a famous story now, that there was without a doubt someone else who had prepared something in homage to it.30

The business of the town did not mean that the Townsfolk would be less enthusiastic tomorrow because of their tiredness, and Square knew that well. He was, and would be in a foul mood. He was a proud person, and he had taken this particular rejection to heart. He saw it as a great opportunity to transcend into the upper tiers of fame and recognition. He was in all truth a great actor, yet the chances had not fallen to him to prove himself properly, and now that the Carnival performance was cancelled, he felt somewhat at a loss. 31

He perched himself at the top of some long steps which reached down into the main quarter of the Town. From here he could see the centre where a huge tent was being erected. It was here that the Carnival’s main event – a masquerade party – would take place.32

Square was particularly not looking forward to the end of tomorrow evening. He was bitter that he should be denied to act on the best performance day of the year, yet the rest of Town were being openly invited and indeed encouraged to don a mask and pretend to be someone they’re not. It was at this moment that he heard a soft thump beside him, and he turned to see a strange face staring at him, with a smile that was, if anything, a little too large.33

“Greetings!” the man said. His accent was unusual, and a little eerie, for he held the vowel sounds a little too long than they ought to be held. His appearance was not at all strange, his clothes were plain, if a little too large. He carried a large, lumpy sack on his back as though it weighed nothing. His hair was short and dark and his chin bare of any signs of hair. He was thin, very thin. His limbs seemed almost child-like, and when he lifted a leg or arm is was as though he was being pulled by invisible string. Yet the most disturbing thing about this man was that his little-too-large smile never left his face. Even when it cracked to speak, his cheeks remained stiff and he grinned in between his sentences, yet never baring any teeth.34

“Hello there,” Square replied after a short, shocked silence. 35

“I’m a salesman!” the man said, noticing that Square was looking at the sack he was carrying, “I sell things! Yes!”36

Being an actor, Square had often come across unusual characters, and this man was far from the weirdest.37

“Masks!” the man continued, “all sorts of masks! Animal masks, people masks, beast masks, character masks, old masks, new masks, colourful masks, masks with tassels, masks with sequins, masks with shiny shiny silver on them! All sorts of masks!” 38

Square wasn’t fond of how the man seemed to edge towards him as he went through his list.39

“There’s a masquerade party, did you know?” he asked Square, his smile was still plastered across his face, but he turned his head inquisitively as he asked.”40

“Yes, I know. But I don’t –“41

“Don’t what?” the man cut him off, “there’s a masquerade party tomorrow, and I sell masks – convenient, no? All sorts of masks!”42

Before he could start listing what was in his bundle again, Square asked him quickly, “do you have a name? I can’t just call you salesman, can I?”43

“Well, you could,“ he replied, “but that would be confusing if there were other salesmen around, wouldn’t it? You might never get my attention at that rate! What a silly suggestion, my dear friend. My name,” he paused a moment, as if thinking, “is Tipper,” his grin was starting to become very eerie indeed, and that coupled with the way he paused between the syllables in his name gave Square a chill.44

“Well, Tipper,” Square said, trying to hide the few nerves which he could not suppress around this man, “I am not planning to go to the masquerade party tomorrow night.”45

“No?” Tipper replied, a little glumly, “I shan’t demand a reason why, every man is entitled to his own decision, am I right?” he chuckled quietly, and patted Square’s hand, which was retracted immediately. Tipper’s hand was freezing beyond the coldest of the winter winds. “However,” he continued, “the masks I am selling, they are not just for masquerade parties. Then can help someone in a profession such as your own, my dear friend.”46

Square was confused by this, and he had grown tired of Tipper’s strange behaviour. He excused himself and left the salesman sat on the steps. As he walked away, Square heard the shouts of, “goodbye, my dear friend! You will decide tomorrow, and you can come and find me and choose your face for the party! You will find me or I will find you, my dear friend! Yes!” He could feel Tipper’s eyes on his back all the time he walked away, and even after he had turned the corner, he was sure that the salesman was still sat there, staring at the spot where he had just walked, still waving and grinning like a madman.47

Chapter II – A Change of Heart48

The morning of the Carnival was upon the Town, and it started early, as it always did. In fact, the sun was not even out yet, and on any other day, it would be unusual to see more than a couple of people in the streets at this time. As it was, the whole Town left their houses, everyone wearing the finest clothes they had. The children were dressed as their favourite heroes and heroines, as was the tradition. There were young boys with cheap metal helmets, wooden swords and sometimes a leather chestguard – this was for Aagard the Strong, who had battled with the fierce Icebears hundreds of years ago. The legend was that he had slain a dozen of them as they surrounded him, and took off each of their heads with his blade. The Icebears were dangerous creatures, and not at all as stupid as some of the stories would have you believe. In fact, they are cunning, and they plan, but we may see more evidence of that later on.49

Some of the other boys wore colourful tunics of every colour, with hoods over their heads and a wooden axe slung over their back. The Battle of the North and South was a well-known story in the Town, and the character the children were paying respect to was Thorgal the Brave. It is said that he held off the entire Southern army by himself, when they had tried to cross the thin bridge which crossed the Aksar River, a few dozen miles to the south of the Town. It is said that he was a man of incredible strength and unmatched rage when he entered into battle and in some versions of his tale he is not a man at all, but a fearsome and massive beast, much resembling the Icebears, only much broader. His legend says that all the foes who he defeated on the bridge died cursing him, and were struck so hard with his axe that their spirits were disorientated and were not able to reach whatever realms exist beyond life. The bridge itself is still considered haunted, and only the bravest cross it by night, while most prefer to rest until daylight at the tavern which stands next to the bridge, and is named after the warrior who defended it with so much vigour.50

The little girls were not without fancy dress, either, and nearly all of them that were not dressed as Thorgal or Aagard were dressed in pretty dresses, with a pointed hat which had a flowing silk tassel hanging from it. This was for Freya (after whom Wipp’s daughter is named), who was a mayoress and one of the greatest leaders the Town ever had elected. She had saved many of the Townspeople from starving to death during one particularly harsh winter when the local crops could not survive. She had made agreements for trade with neighbouring regions and provinces and their brave tradesmen fought through the harsh weather to bring food and supplies to the Town. They were repaid, in time, through various deeds, one of the biggest being Thorgal’s stand on the bridge against the army from the South, after which all debts were considered repaid.51

It was a pleasant sight to see everyone in their finery, and even Square still in his bad mood smiled as he watched them all from his window.52

He came out onto the busy street and was immediately hit on the head with a bladder full of air by a passing man. The Carnival had a habit of bringing out many old traditions, one of them being that all the men in the Town were to carry a stick with an inflated bladder tied to the end, with the object being to hit as many of the other men as possible on the head with it. If you were hit, you had to tie a handkerchief around your neck to let everyone know that you had been hit. If there was anyone left at sundown how did not have a handkerchief around their neck, they were considered the winners, and were raised a lot and sung about merrily. There was one way to win, and that was you weren’t allowed to hit a man on his head if he had one finger from each hand on his nose, but this was difficult to do for a long time, because one needs ones hands to perform everyday tasks, and ones arms would begin to ache after a short while, anyway. It was a strange tradition, and no one quite knew its roots. Some of the older folk said it had migrated from the islands over the oceans to the West, but everyone was content to accept it as their own.53

“Got you!” a young man said happily, before dancing off down the road to attack the next passer-by. Square sighed and took a grubby handkerchief from his pocket and tied it around his neck. He was not fond of the game, and he did not like letting everyone know that he had lost so early on in the day, but at least it meant that no one else would hit him on the head again for another year.54

Many, but not quite all, of the market stalls had opened up and were already selling their products to everyone who came near. There were stalls selling food, roast hog and freshly baked bread, deer meat and vegetables – these stalls were mostly occupied by the people who had been up all night setting up the final pieces of the main tent and various other bits and pieces, and who had not had chance to eat anything yet. There were stores selling handkerchiefs, for the men who had forgotten theirs at home and lost at the bladder-game at this early hour. There were stores for children, selling toys and games, and at each one there were half a dozen of them pestering their parents to buy them this or that, most of them were answered with a variation on no, you’ll get bored of it and never use it again but there was the odd child who had some luck and they held their prizes up high in triumphant happiness.55

By far the busiest stall was Wipp’s stall. It was well-known around the Town that although his bar was not a big place for business, Wipp spent much of the year creating fantastic new concoctions of milk and other things. He would never tell anyone what went into the potions, but they all tasted exquisite. Some were tangy and left a sour aftertaste, some were almost too sweet to bear, and there were even some which were not to be sold to the children – but he told the sad faces that when they were big and strong, they would be able to enjoy a jug of it, and this always cheered them up.56

Square walked to where he was sat the night before and stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of the courtyard at the bottom of the steps. That was where all the street performers and entertainers would perform and entertain, and he hesitated with his foul mood before deciding to go and see what attractions were on offer this year. He slowly descended and stone steps and headed towards the large crowds at the bottom. 57

The lights throughout the Town were enchanting. Dawn had just broken so there was a gentle glow to everything around, and the twinkling bulbs gave the impression of fairies which danced whenever a particularly strong breeze caught them. 58

As Square reached the bottom ten steps he could over the head of the people that were gathered he and there. It was extremely busy; there were a lot of people to get into such a small space to see all the entertainment. It was for this reason that the acts did their performances once, then took a break and allowed the crowds to move on so that a new audience could come and watch, then they would perform again and take another break, the crowd would move round again, and then there would be a final performance for those who had not managed to see either of the first two. 59

In the corner nearest him, Square saw York, already winning the crowds approval with his constant talking. He talked of nothing special, but he kept speaking, and it kept the audience’s focus on him and not his hands. Square had to admit, despite his tirade last night, that York was a great performer. He could perform complex magical illusions while helping himself to whatever the patrons had in their pockets, and without ever alerting anyone to what his sleight of hand might be up to.60

Next to York there was a little area where a few people gathered. Here, a young woman played with five over-turned cups. She would hide a coin under one of the cups and shuffle them around, only to reveal that not only had the coin disappeared, but under each cup there was now a bright summer flower. There were a few variations on this trick, but it was pleasing to watch for a few minutes, anyway.61

In the opposite corner, there was a large fenced-off area, and in it there were a dozen men in full battle regalia, re-enacting Thorgal’s stand on the Aksar Bridge. There were many of the young boys who were dressed as Thorgal here, watching the performance. They were stood on the bottom plank of the fence, or were held up by the parents if they could not see, and every time Thorgal “killed” one of the enemies, a loud cheer went up, and chants of Thorgal! Thorgal the Brave! Thorgal the Bear-hearted! from the children echoed around the courtyard. Square smiled to himself. He enjoyed a good battle – or rather, he enjoyed a well-choreographed battle. The thought of him actually wielding a blade or a heavier weapon and having to pierce or crush another man with it did not please him at all. The recent times were peaceful – there were political tensions, there always were, but there were no whispers of war – and this pleased him. 62

There were many other attractions, the juggling twins were playing their tricks on another young boy, the fire-eater and sword dancer had arrived and were attracting large crowds as the foreign acts always did. There were musicians, clowns, dancers, mimes, puppeteers, and actors, as well as many others, but to mention them in any more detail than merely naming them would take too much time, so I shall not do that here. 63

The day passed as one might expect a Carnival day to pass. There was much food eaten and much drink drunk. There had been games and tricks, laughter and smiles. Square had bumped into Hammock, Spike and Comber and they talked at Wipp’s milk stall over a jug of sour-tasting, yet surprisingly fruity and warming milk. Square was told that a young musician’s rendition of Old Man August had not pleased the crowd as well as he might have hoped, and this brought a smile to Square’s face, and it cleared his temper and cured his bad humour, too.64

They laughed and shared jokes amongst each other as friends rather than work companions, and they spent a while talking about whatever their next project might be. They discussed various possibilities at length until they were interrupted when a flying bladder hit Hammock on the back of the head. He grumbled to himself as the attacker chuckled to himself and tied a handkerchief around his neck. Comber and Spike were both still in the game and promptly put a finger from each hand on their noses.65

The evening drew near, and after much discussion with his companions, Square decided that his mood was good enough that he would go to the masquerade party, and that he would enjoy himself and the festivities. He even decided that he had cheered up enough that he would try to find the odd mask salesman to buy a mask from.66

Saying a quick goodbye to his friends, he began to push his way through the crowds which were still tightly packed in the streets, repeating sorry, excuse me, pardon me over and over again whenever he had to gently usher someone out of the way. 67

Many of the Townsfolk had already put on their masks, and were heading down to the main tent to start the party. Square had not noticed the passage of time as he had been so engrossed in conversation with his friends, and it seemed to him as if everyone had just transformed into all manner of things instantaneously. There were people with fox faces, boar, owl and bear, too. Some people wore the faces of old mayors or warriors, and many of the younger adults wore fashionably decorated and glittering masks. 68

He didn’t know where he was going, or where he could search for Tipper, and at last he came to a thinner part of the excited crowd, where the most patient of them had elected to let the throng go first so that they could join the party in their own time.69

They chatted amongst themselves, even in their infinite patience edging slowly towards where everyone else was heading, eager to dance to the music which could already faintly be heard in the distance. They talked mainly of the attractions they had seen, heard and tasted, reviewing them always in a positive way.70

“My dear friend!” a voice called. Square instantly shivered, for he knew the strange accent belonged to Tipper – and although it was him who he was looking for, he only wished he had seen him before he had called out. 71

“My dear friend!” Tipper called again, appearing from the crowd, his large, heavy bag not seeming to weight him down or affect him in any way as he squeezed between the people. “I was expecting you here, although not this late, I must admit.” His grin was still there, although it seemed a little friendlier now that Square actually wanted to speak with him.72

“Yes, I’ve had a change of heart. My feet are itching to dance, and I shall enjoy the celebration tonight,” Square explained happily.73

“How delightful!” Tipper said, though his voice carried a patronising tone. “So, you will need a mask, yes? We can’t have you going to the party with your face looking like that, can we? That just wouldn’t be fair!” Tipper giggled childishly, “it is, after all, a masquerade party!”74

Square hesitated a second, unsure of if he was being mocked or not. “Yes, I have no preference to any particular mask, I would just like to be there quickly.”75

“Of course! But, you see, whatever mask you choose, I guarantee that there won’t be another like it at the party! Not one, no,” he rubbed his hands gleefully and hopped on the spot for a moment. Square found it hard to believe that there wouldn’t be a copy of at least one of the masks Tipper had with him, it looked as though there were hundreds in the sack.76

The salesman swung the bag from his shoulder and set it on the ground noisily. He brought a mask out and held it up, yet he did it so quickly that Square never had an opportunity to even peek inside. 77

The mask he held up was a light blue in colour. It was not very extravagant. In fact, it was nothing more than a piece of blue material which vaguely resembled a face, except without any space for a mouth. It was dotted here and there with a few silver sequins and little green designs, but all in all it was not particularly marvellous. There was a piece of cloth with was tied to either side of it, for tying around the head.78

“Hmm...” Tipper muttered, and before Square could object, the salesman jumped and said loudly, “yes! This is good! You will like this mask, my dear friend! It will suit you, I think. Yes! This mask,” he said, lowering his voice and stooping slightly towards Square, “this mask is one of the more useful. Everyone’s perception of you will alter, you will see! Yes! And I dare say you might find it quite entertaining yourself, my dear friend, yes. But I must warn you,” he said, putting his hand on Square’s shoulder and leaning his face close to his ear, “the ties slip sometimes. It can fall off quite easily,” and he patted him roughly on the shoulder and stepped back again.79

Square, wanting to get to the party quickly, so that he could join his friends, agreed to take it. It was a little shabby, it was true, but he had himself seen less attractive ones when he had pushed through the crowd. At least it wasn’t an attempt at replicating an animal head, he despised those things. He had always thought they were a poor attempt at creativity, but the plainer masks allowed for one to better create their own character for the night, instead of being a bird of prey or a mountain beast.80

He was surprised when Tipper turned down any offer of a price for the mask, not even being tempted by the various shiny coins that Square had lining his pockets. He had said that watching him at the party would be payment enough. 81

“Now, now. I must be off, my dear friend,” Tipper said quickly, “I have a few things to do, and plenty of time to do them in, but they must be done with haste if I wish to see what will happen at the dance! Yes, go now,” he said pushing Square gently by the arm in the direction of the party. By this time all the crowds had disappeared, and they were alone, except for a few individuals who had dashed home to bring something they had forgotten, and were now returning quickly to the celebration. “Go now, dance! But if you wish to enjoy yourself as best you can, I would refrain from singing, if I owned your shadow. Go now! Go, my dear friend! The night is still young, but time makes slaves of us all, my dear friend, yes! Go now!” and he skipped away and into the nearby shadows with a little chuckle to himself.82

What and odd fellow, Square thought, but he decided to not reflect on it any more for the night and he headed for the party.83

As he walked, he put on his newly acquired mask. It was comfortable enough, the material was soft and warm against his face, and the ties fitted snugly around his head. The holes for the eyes were large enough to not obstruct his vision in any way, and it was odd that the lack of holes for the nose or mouth did not hinder his breathing at all, even though it did make him feel a little claustrophobic.84

Tipper was indeed a queer character. All Square could think of when he talked with him was that he reminded him of a creature about which there were famous stories. A creature who lived on a lake beneath the mountains, a decrepit old thing, a skeleton draped in canvas, almost, who hunted fish or anything that was unfortunate enough to cross its path. The salesman was not as old as he looked, though he felt in heart five times that. He didn’t like to tell his tale, and he was odd enough so that people who never ask him about it, so that they might get away a little earlier.85

He was lonely, and often when he travelled he spoke to his masks as though they were people, but he didn’t like to wear them himself. He took great care of them all, he took them out and aired them thrice a week, and then packed them neatly away into the large bag again, always in the same order.86

The story of where he had found them was not particularly pleasant. As a young child of only eight or nine, he lived with a family of circus performers. They were not at all friendly towards him, and treated him more like a slave than an adopted child (his true parents disappeared not long after his birth, leaving him in a street where the family happened to pass by). As soon as he was old enough and strong enough, he left the family, stealing the bag of masks as his own little revenge, because he had seen how much they coveted them. He was surprised when he managed to get away without being pursued at all, but all in all it had meant he had no home and he became a wanderer, selling his masks where he could. He had done that ever since he had reached his teens, and the reason he still had all of his masks even more unpleasant than the tale of how he had first acquired them.87

The people he sold them to, he tracked and followed, and in all fairness when he felt they had had a fair use out of them, he tried to barter them back fairly – but not always did his customers want to return the masks, and that is when business became grusome, because Tipper had to retrieve masks by force, and sometimes that meant committing a murder. It was a grisly act, but one that he felt was sometimes necessary, because, as he told Square, and as you may or may not have believed, these masks were not just masks – they held magical properties.88

Each one had a different ability. There was a mask which meant the wearer had a much increased reaction time. There was one which made the air smell sweet, and would eventually lull the wearer into a deep sleep until someone removed it. There was one which gave the impression that one was completely drunk. And there were more powerful and more sinister ones. A mask which could transform the wearer into a wolf. One which would tighten and tighten and suffocate the wearer. There was even one which would transport the wearer three days backwards in time – this was a transparent mask, and no one could tell if someone was wearing it. The advantage of this being that one could change an event which happened in the last three days, but one had to wear it until the point in time where they put it on replayed itself, or the events would reverse themselves and return to normal. This meant having to either stay awake for the whole three days, or having to sleep in it, and that was tough to do, because the edges of the mask were uncomfortable and sharp, to try and deter such foul play.89

As you can imagine, Tipper had become rather obsessed with these masks, yet he was even more fascinated by how other people used them, which is why he was happy to lend them out and follow whoever it was that was wearing it. 90

He had a fond memory of lending to someone a mask which makes the wearer believe they are twice as tall as they actually are. It had been quite a shock when they discovered it. Of course, he never warned anyone about what they did, that would spoil his fun, and that would put him in a bad mood.91

At present, the salesman was skipping silently along a rooftop near the party. He was quick on his feet, and extremely agile, and he had made it round to the opposite side of the party in plenty of time to see Square descending the steps and heading towards the celebration as he put the mask to his face and then disappeared completely. Tipper had given him an invisibility mask, and he was excited to find out how Square would discover what it did, and how he would react. He sat cross-legged on the snow-covered tiles and watched. The sky was clear still, and there was little wind, so he was quite comfortable and had nothing to obstruct his view. It was his favourite mask to give away, as he liked to play a game with himself, where he would guess where the invisible wearer was, judging by the reactions of the people around. Some would screech like a mouse, some would just look confused and scratch their heads and think nothing more of it. It was a fun game to play, although he often got bored of it before the wearer discovered what was going on, and he would go and retrieve the mask by whatever means were necessary.