"There has been a slight change in plans."

The Master didn't speak loudly, but he didn't have to. When he spoke, the people stopped and listened for within this circus, his word was law and the law was strictly upheld. He paused for a moment to let his words linger in the air and then continued.

"Snowflake, my finest artist and one whom I love as a son, has fallen ill due to the horrific attack yesterday. We will be moving out and traveling on, but I ask that you all -- except for those I strictly allow otherwise -- stay away from my tent where I will be taking care of him and moving him, and let him remain out of sight so he may rest and heal."

Whispers broke out among the crowd. Good. They bought the story. The Master plastered a mournful expression on his face if only to suppress the furious one that kept threatening to make an appearance, and nodded very slowly as the whispers began to grow louder. He opened his mouth as if to speak more than shut it, letting emotion flood over his features and overcome him before finally raising a hand and stepping down from the crates upon which he had made his announcement.

He had the masses wrapped around his finger and believing everything he told them. Now he needed Snowflake back, and soon.

----

Smuggling someone out of his tent who wasn't even there had been easier said than done and it required the Master to let a few more trusted people in on the secret -- or as trusted as anyone was to the Master -- but no one seemed to suspect a thing once Snowflake's old cart was ready to go and he was supposedly in it. Those that he had told were sent then to track the boy down, and others were sent to find the girl who had come to him yesterday when she had found the brothers after the attack. Unfortunately, he had forgotten about her until now. What he suspected came true and the girl was not to be found, so he could only assume that she had escaped with him -- or had helped him to escape in the first place.

She would pay dearly for that mistake.

There were only two things left to do now. Firstly, the Master sent a few more of his men to find Crow and his escort and bring him back. Long ago he had learned that if you had one brother you had them both, and if Snowflake remained hidden from him then he would use other tools to bring him back. There was more than one way to force someone's hand.

It irritated him to have to do it. It was like admitting to a mistake, and the Master rarely made those. It was the fault of the Wyvern, really, and the people who had chained him up so poorly, and the guards as well who had failed to stop that beast in time. Crow's fate had been a public demonstration. A warning. He didn't like to have to bring him back now, but there was little else he could do if he couldn't find his prize again.

Once he had finished delegating his men, the Master headed to his second and final destination: Ebeneezer's tent. It was always the last to be taken down and the first to go up, for the old man was easily tired and didn't like to travel any longer than necessary.

"You've received my 'gift'?" the Master questioned as he entered the tent. There was a chair leaned against the tent wall and he took it, setting it up so he could sit more comfortably. It had been a tired and irritating day, and his fist hurt from punching it through a table when he'd woken up to find his tent empty of anyone other than himself. The only thing he had found was a scrap of cloth from Snowflake's shirt where he had wriggled out from underneath the tent.

Yes, the girl surely had to be responsible. Snowflake couldn't have orchestrated such an escape on his own -- the boy wasn't intelligent enough for that. The Master looked forward to finding them and getting his revenge on that caravaner slave girl.

Though it took a few moments, an answer finally arose from the darkest corner of the tent and a short, bent figure emerged. "Aye," said Ebeneezer, and groaned as he sat down across from the Master. "And I thank ye for it."

The Master nodded crisply. "I couldn't deal with them publicly, not this time, but a punishment was necessary."

"Permanent punishment," Ebeneezer said, grinning toothlessly. Well, perhaps not entirely toothlessly. He had about three left.

Unconcerned, the Master shrugged and idly picked a trinket up from the table to twist around in his hands as he spoke. It was smooth rock, dyed a swirling purple, and completely useless but to add to the spooky ambiance of Ebeneezer's tent. The crowds loved it so the extra trinkets were worth it, despite their lack of practical usefulness. Whatever the crowds wanted was what he supplied, for it was their money he craved more than anything. "I have reached my last thread of patience with the brothers. When I get Snowflake back -- and I will -- then I will make sure he never has the chance to leave his cage again. He will be well guarded and--" The Master paused, shrugged, and moved on. They had little time and Ebeneezer didn't need to hear every detail of the Master's plan. "I want you to make an example out of Crow. Don’t kill him, but shrink a hand or something. Disable him.”

Eyes glittering, the Master set down the rock and stood, pushing back the chair as he did so. "I'll send in someone to help you pack up your tent. Just make sure you get everything important out of sight before they get here."

The old man grinned even wider. The Master resisted recoiling in disgust -- clearly, the voodoo master had no idea what dental hygiene was. "Leave 'im to me," Ebeneezer said. "'E will get what 'e deserves."

Satisfied, the Master nodded. "Good." As he turned to leave, he paused by the door and ran his fingers lightly over the two shrunken heads that hung near the doorway, their faces forever frozen in horror. 'Some of your best work for doing it with such speed," he commented. "Those two idiot guards will serve your tent better than they'll serve me."

And, leaving those ominous words lingering in the air, the Master left the tent as the sound of Ebeneezer's wild laughter slowly faded into silence behind him.