“I don’t think any of the original games are missing,” Summer said. “It’s like the boardwalk stretched a little longer. Where should we go first?”

  “Let’s try the Psychic,” Nate said. “Pigeon and I had some good luck there.”

  Nate showed the way, sometimes having to lead with his shoulder and weave through clusters of people. When Nate reached the space between Mama’s Food Barn and the Cycletron, Argali the Psychic was gone, though the heaps of sawdust remained.

  Nate turned around in a circle. “He was right here. In a big box.”

  “I remember,” Summer said.

  Nate stepped close to Summer. “I bet our questions were too good. That guy who interrupted us probably hid the machine.”

  “Is that a log ride?” Summer asked.

  Nate turned and looked across the way. The ride entrance looked like an old wooden fort, and the letters on the sign were painted like logs in front of a splashy background.

  “Yes,” Nate said. “Was that there on Saturday?”

  “No, I would have remembered,” Summer said.

  “That is so weird,” Nate said. “Did you take the survey on the way out the other day?”

  “Yeah,” Summer said. “I got a coupon for twenty tickets.”

  “Did you suggest any rides on the form?” Nate asked. “I asked for a log ride, because I thought the carnival was missing water rides.”

  “That seems like a really complicated ride to build in a day,” Summer said.

  “It’s no ordinary carnival,” Nate emphasized.

  A portly man in a bowler hat sidled up to Nate and Summer. “Say, this isn’t your first visit to the park, is it?” he asked in a low voice.

  “That’s right,” Nate answered. “We were here Saturday.”

  The man glanced around as if making sure he wasn’t being watched. “Come over here. I’ve got a bargain for you.”

  Nate and Summer shared a glance. Summer shrugged, and they stepped closer to the man in the hat.

  He led them along the outside of Mama’s Food Barn to the rear corner of the structure. After checking the area, he reached into his plaid jacket and retrieved a folded piece of paper from an inner pocket. “Listen, this carnival is designed for repeat customers. There are perks for those who come often.” He unfolded the paper. “This is the Regulars Map. It isn’t always available, and never on a first visit. I’ll sell it to you right now—ten tickets, two Carnie Coins, take it or leave it.”

  “Why so expensive?” Nate asked.

  “This map has lots of hints and clues that they leave off the general one.”

  “We’ll take it,” Summer said, tearing off ten tickets and handing over a pair of coins.

  “You spoke up just in time,” the man said. “I was about to withdraw the offer.” He gave her the map. “Enjoy. Pleasure doing business with you.” He tipped his hat and strode away.

  Summer unfolded the map. “Look, it already shows the log ride.”

  “This map folds out bigger than the free one,” Nate said. “It has more detail.”

  “What are the little gold dots?” Summer asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Nate said. “There are lots of them.”

  “Here’s a legend,” Summer said. “The gold dots are coin slots.” She pointed to the bumper cars and the Fun House.

  “Yep,” Nate said. “But there are so many others on different rides too. We didn’t find nearly this many coin slots. Some must be hidden.”

  “The blue boxes with question marks inside are secret ways. What do you think that means?” Summer asked.

  “We’re going to find out,” Nate said resolutely. “I see only four secret ways marked on the map.”

  Summer pointed to the map. “The nearest secret way is on the Terror Ride.”

  “That was a cool ride,” Nate said. “But it’d be awesome if it had a secret passage!”

  “Unless the secret passage leads to a lair of kidnappers,” Summer said. “Could be dangerous.”

  “We’ll stick together,” Nate said. “And if something doesn’t feel right, we can turn around. But we’re here to uncover secrets.”

  “Look at this spot,” Summer said. “A coin slot and a secret way are in this little alley behind some of the food stands. That seems promising.”

  “Let’s check it out,” Nate agreed.

  They hurried to the indicated food vendors, then cut down an alley between the fried ice cream and the caramel apples. The alley elbowed, paralleling the back of the food stands. Opposite the wooden rear of the food stands ran a brick wall.

  “This is where the map indicated,” Summer said.

  “What does a traveling carnival build out of bricks?” Nate asked.

  Summer consulted the map. “It matches up with the Old Time Theater. But the marks for the passage and the coin slot are clearly in this alley.”

  “Was the theater here on Saturday?” Nate asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Summer said. “We definitely didn’t go in it.”

  Turning in a circle, Nate scanned the dusty ground and the blank walls. “There is nothing here.”

  “Nothing obvious,” Summer said, looking more closely at the rear wall of the food stands.

  Nate began scouring the brick wall, eventually spying a metal-edged coin slot set horizontally into the grout between two bricks. “No way. Summer, check this out.”

  “So sneaky,” Summer said, producing a Carnie Coin and inserting it.

  A door sprang ajar beside the coin slot. Cunningly composed of bricks, the door had fit seamlessly into the wall. There was no knob or handle on the outside, so Nate grabbed the protruding edge and pulled the door open. A torchlit stairway descended before them. From down below came the overlapping murmur of multiple conversations.

  “If evil magicians weren’t involved, this would be the coolest carnival ever,” Nate said.

  “They would also have the best workers ever,” Summer said. “Who comes to town, digs an underground tunnel, and lines it with stone?”

  A tone sounded, and the brick door slowly began to close. Nate extended a hand to stop it, but the door kept moving no matter how hard he resisted.

  “In or out?” Nate asked.

  Summer slipped through the doorway, and Nate followed. Behind them, the door crunched shut. They paused for a moment at the top of the torchlit stairwell. The humid air smelled like wet rock, and the temperature was noticeably cooler than outside. Summer led the way down the stone steps.

  At the bottom, they reached a small antechamber with empty benches against the plaster walls and an archway on the far side. Above the arch hung a weathered wooden sign.

  The Grotto

  Just beyond the archway, Nate saw a gaunt man with a bandana tied around his head and a small golden hoop in one earlobe standing in front of what looked like a podium.

  “Well met, friend,” the man greeted in a gruff but companionable voice. “Found the Grotto, did you?”

  “Yes,” Nate said, stepping forward. He could see some people at tables beyond the man. “Is this a restaurant?”

  “I’d call it a hangout,” the man said. “Maybe a watering hole. But if you have tickets and coins, call it what you will. Best seafood in the area, mate. Are you and your girlfriend looking for a table?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Nate said.

  The man shook his head with disappointment. “Couldn’t win her heart?”

  “She’s me wench,” Nate growled in his best pirate accent.

  The man slapped the podium and laughed. Summer swiftly punched Nate’s shoulder.

  “Talk like that leads to stormy seas,” the man said, still chuckling. “You’re a braver man than I. Follow me.”

  The sprawling room beyond the podium was broken up by stone pillars, wooden partitions, and low walls. Lit by dim lanterns and flickering candles, recessed compartments held tables where figures conversed in hushed tones. Old fishing nets hung on some of the walls, alongside harpoons, shells, and barnacle-crusted anchors.

  “Most of the tables are lonely today,” the man said. “How about this one?” He indicated a booth with a table large enough for four. Two candles burned in bottles.

  “Looks great,” Summer said.

  She sat on one side, Nate on the other. The man gave a slight bow. “I’ll take my leave now.”

  “Are you a pirate?” Nate asked.

  “Close enough, my boy,” the man said. He scowled and thickened his accent. “Yer server be Mandy.” With a wink, he walked away.

  Nate rubbed the tabletop, appreciating the waxy texture of the timeworn wood.

  “I’m going to get you back for that wench comment,” Summer said.

  “I was trying to blend in with the locals,” Nate said.

  “We’re at a carnival,” Summer said. “These aren’t real pirates.”

  “It’s a magic carnival,” Nate said. “Who knows what kind of people we’re meeting?”

  “Let’s not assume any of them are sexist,” Summer said.

  A woman with her hair tied up over her head and wearing a frilly blouse came up to the table. “I’m Mandy. What can I get you to drink?”

  Nate noticed the parchment menus at the edge of the table. “What do you recommend?”

  “The lime soda,” Mandy said. “We also have fruit punch, ginger ale, and pickle brine.”

  “I’ll just have water,” Summer said.

  “Lime soda,” Nate said. “Do people actually order the pickle brine?”

  “Only a few diehards,” Mandy said.

  “What about food?” Nate asked.

  “The shrimp nachos are popular,” Mandy said. “We have swordfish as a special. My favorite is the fisherman’s stew. Really hearty with lots of variety. Never quite the same twice. Comes with sourdough.”

  “Do you have tomato soup?” Summer asked.

  “Does an octopus have tentacles?” Mandy replied.

  “I’ll take that,” Summer said. “Just a cup.”

  “I’ll try the stew,” Nate said.

  “I’ll get that going,” Mandy said, strolling away.

  “Are you even hungry?” Summer asked.

  “A little,” Nate said. “I usually snack after school.”

  “I wonder how expensive this place is,” Summer said.

  Nate grabbed a menu and found what he had ordered. “My stew is five tickets. Not bad. The lime soda was two. I think it’s a little cheaper here than up top.”

  “There’s deals to be had down here for sure,” a young man said, approaching. He carried a three-legged stool, set it at the end of the table, and squatted down. He wore a loose white shirt and tight trousers with a rapier at his waist. “Topside is for tourists. Edward Scrum—pleased to meet you.”

  “I’m Summer.”

  “Nate.”

  “First time at the Grotto?” he asked.

  “We just found it,” Summer said. “I ordered my manservant here to bring me.”

  “I deserved that,” Nate said.

  “Are you a regular?” Summer asked.

  Edward grinned and looked around. “More regular than most. You can often find me haunting these tables. A lot of secrets get traded around the Grotto.”

  “We know some secrets,” Nate said. “I know where my sister keeps her diary.”

  “Personally, I’m more interested in coins than rumors,” Edward said.

  “We give you coins, you tell us secrets?” Summer asked.

  Edward scratched his neck. “That makes me sound so opportunistic. But, yeah, those are the basics.”

  Nate slid a Carnie Coin to the end of the table.

  “That didn’t take long,” Edward said, picking up the bribe. “Before you leave the Grotto, find the fountain. Toss a coin in. Make a wish out loud.”

  “It grants actual wishes?” Nate asked.

  “Close enough,” Edward said.

  “We’re just supposed to trust you?” Nate asked.

  “If it doesn’t work, tell everyone you meet I’m a fraud,” Edward said. “The reason I can earn coins with information is because my tips pay off.”

  “Is this what you do?” Summer asked. “Hang out here collecting coins?”

  “One more coin and I’ll answer some general questions,” Edward said. “Or I can stop disturbing you.”

  Summer glanced at Nate, then handed Edward a Carnie Coin.

  “A fellow needs coins to explore the carnival,” Edward said. “I’m here doing what all the regulars do. I’m trying to solve the mysteries. Win treasure and glory. Coins help.”

  “Is your sword real?” Nate asked.

  “Real sharp,” Edward said. “And plenty pointy.”

  “The carnival just opened here Saturday,” Summer said. “How can you already be a regular?”

  Edward laughed. “I follow the carnival from town to town.”

  “Does it always have a Grotto?” Summer asked.

  “Before long it does,” Edward said.

  “How did they dig the tunnels for the Grotto so fast?” Nate asked.

  Edward chuckled. “You really are new to this. The carnival tends to grow rapidly. We’ll leave it at that.”

  “What mysteries have you uncovered?” Summer asked.

  “Those answers get expensive,” Edward said, raising a change pouch and jiggling it. “How much do you have?”

  “I’m out,” Summer said.

  “Three more,” Nate said.

  “Then I’ll leave you with some broad advice,” Edward said, standing and picking up his stool. “The coins tend to open paths. Follow where they lead. There are many of us who are fully invested in trying to solve the mysteries behind the rides. If you suspect the impossible, you’re probably on the right track. If you’re careful, you don’t ever have to leave, but if anyone official catches you topside after hours, they’ll see you out. But they never press charges. It’s more like playing a game of tag than actually trespassing. Are you following me so far?”

  “Yes,” Nate said, riveted.

  “Here is a bit of advice I’ll give you for free even though it’s worth a whole purse of coins in importance. Don’t fall asleep inside the carnival. Not unless you’re positive you found a safe room. Trust me.”

  “What happens if we fall asleep?” Summer asked.

  “Nothing good,” Edward said. “Enjoy your grub.”

  “Are you in danger?” Nate asked. “Does your family know you’re here?”

  Edward smiled. “It’s dangerous, but this game is voluntary.”

  “Do you need sidekicks?” Nate asked. “We’re trying to solve mysteries here too.”

  Edward pursed his lips to one side. “Not at the moment. But who knows? Maybe later.”

  “Level with me before you go,” Nate said. “Are you an actor? Hired by the carnival?”

  “Want to give me another coin?” Edward asked.

  “We’re pretty low,” Nate said.

  “Probably wise.” Edward grinned. “All the world is a stage.” He strode away, swinging his stool from one hand.

  Summer leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “What if we follow that guy? See where he goes?”

  “I have a feeling he’d know,” Nate said.

  “This is getting more bizarre by the minute,” Summer said. “How many people do you think follow this carnival?”

  “It might explain the disappearances,” Nate said. “And how crowded it is. If there is enough to explore, people could get addicted. Heck, I could get addicted.”

  “What do we do now?” Summer asked.

  “We wait for our food,” Nate said. “Then we go find that fountain.”

  Chapter Ten

  Fountain

  The fisherman’s stew had large pieces of crab, lobster, scallops, shrimp, mussels, and fish mingling with bits of vegetables and stray twists of noodles in a salty, buttery broth. The accompanying bread had a firm, crunchy crust and a soft interior. Both Nate and Summer used the sourdough to mop up the remains of their soups when they were done.

  “Don’t miss any of those fish guts,” Summer said.

  “The guts are the best part,” Nate replied. “Want the rest of my lime soda?” It had come in a glass along with a half-filled bottle. It was good, but a little too tart for his taste.

  “Sure,” Summer said, taking the bottle and guzzling what was left. “Do we leave a tip?”

  “In tickets?” Nate replied. “That seems weird. But I don’t want to be a cheapskate.”

  He slid out of the booth and crossed to the nearest occupied table. A broad man with an eyepatch sat with a long-haired man and a thin woman with frizzy hair.

  “Excuse me,” Nate said. “Do we tip here?”

  “If you want to give away coins, I’ll lighten your load,” the man with the eyepatch offered.

  “No need to give gratuities inside the carnival,” the woman said. “All workers get a fair wage for their efforts. Good service is expected as part of that.”

  “You’re no fun,” the guy with the eyepatch said. “He might have handed over coins!”

  “The kid isn’t daft,” the long-haired guy said. “He was just being polite. He wanted to know the custom.” The guy raised a mug in Nate’s direction. “Cheers.”

  “Thanks,” Nate said. He returned to Summer. “No tip.”

  “Do you think those guys are following the carnival like Edward?” Summer asked.

  “I think the people eating here are mostly insiders,” Nate replied. “Either employees or regulars.”

  Summer stood up. “Let’s go find the fountain.”

  The Grotto was more expansive and mazelike than Nate had realized at first. They passed through entire rooms of empty tables, taking steps down into somewhat lower dining areas, and moving along narrow passages past private booths hid in shadowy alcoves. Occasionally they saw people eating or in conversation, but it mostly felt like they were traversing closed portions of the eatery.