There was something about the smell of freshly dug earth that Ghost found comforting. He’d never been able to figure out why exactly. One of the mysteries of the human mind. There was no lighting in the tunnel, but daylight illuminated the beginning of it. They followed it for a few hundred feet and it turned sharply. Now he could see the end of the tunnel lit up by artificial light, presumably from the theatre itself. The tunnel itself was still dark for another hundred yards, but he’d gotten the feel of the floor by now and continued walking confidently with Silver.
They emerged in what looked like one of the changing rooms for actors. Although Ghost had been to the theatre before, he’d never been backstage. Silver gestured around with her arm like an estate agent showing off a new property. It wasn’t the tidiest of rooms. Old jars of make-up lay around and there was dust on the mirrors, not to mention a certain amount of fresh earth that had been tracked into the carpet.
Silver lead him out to the corridor and towards the stage. It was a strange feeling being back here. One of those places you weren’t supposed to be for most people, and yet conversely for the people who worked there, a perfectly natural (albeit usually somewhat stressful) place to be.
Ghost took in the surroundings. Faded notes were still pinned to the walls. “You mentioned custodians?” he prompted.
“Ah, yes. The Harlequins.” She led him up a flight of stairs to the back of the stage. There were wires hanging down seemingly randomly, various props left from productions of the past loosely piled up together. She nodded to the stage itself. A troupe of men and women were silently practicing acrobatics. Not “dodging incoming weaponry” or “swinging out of zombie infested buildings” acrobatics. What they were doing was very much an art form. They wore brightly coloured clothes and their faces were hidden behind ornate masks. They as one, no matter what position they were in, they turned and tumbled once towards him, each ending in a graceful bow, before returning to what they had been doing.
Silver lead him down the side of the stage and through the auditorium. Some of the Harlequins were merrily using the seats as part of their practice, nimbly leaping and balancing on them.
“Harlequins?” Ghost asked. “Think of them as modern day ninja, but focused on information rather than violence. With the right invitations they can perform almost anywhere. They’re masters of disguise and as they’re careful not to let anyone see anything recognizable, or even be sure how many of them there are, with the right clothes it’s easy for them to slip unnoticed into the audience. Perfect if you want to get information in or out of a place. It’s pretty easy for them to include codes into their performances too. They’re the epitome of hiding in plain sight.” She smiled proudly.
Ghost paused to let this sink in. Another very generous gift.
“Of course you probably don’t have any real use for them at the moment,” she paused to watch his reaction, but might as well have tried to decipher the feelings of a cloud “but in the long term…”
Ghost kept his face calm and nodded, but inside he was considering running far, far, away. He was getting well out of his depth here. He knew Silver had long term plans – she had to, being a Guardian. But that meant she was playing in a game with some very serious people. The image of giants crushing ants underfoot entered his mind again.
“And of course lots of space for Amber to practice in,” she finished with a grin.
Ghost smiled. “And more excuses for us to visit and drink your tea.”
“Well that wouldn’t hurt either,” she nudged his shoulder with the side of her face. “C’mon I’ll show you the rest of this place.”
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