Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
The eggs are rotten and Madeline is gone. The scent of sulfur floats through the air like a rancid cloud, intolerable and disgusting.
I want to rage about this. I want to burn the world. I want to kill everyone, and everything, and then I want to kill myself.
But, of course, I will do none of these things. Because if I kill everyone, and everything, and then myself—I will be unable to get revenge.
So I breathe deeply through my nose instead. The Love Doctor gave me this meditative advice when I was enjoying the radio and having tea and toast with the monsters.
This breathing exercise doesn’t fix anything, of course. Nothing about what has happened can be fixed. But it does calm me down and allow me the time to internalize, and fully embrace, my evil side.
When one decides to devise a revenge scheme it is best to carefully think it through in order to get the most satisfaction. There are many things to consider.
Most important is who comes first.
See, this is where most dragons get it wrong. They do not differentiate between those who are truly guilty and those who were merely accomplices. They simply burn the whole damn town.
Hell, I’ve done that myself. I chuckle here, thinking about how immature I was just a few short weeks ago and how far I’ve come in that brief span of time.
I am—I let out a long breath—mature now. I think.
Yes. That’s quite a nice word. I’ve grown into myself. Finally.
And even though there is emptiness inside me as big as the world outside my gates, I fill it up with wicked thoughts and vile endings.
There is no happy ending for me.
I knew this though, didn’t I?
I understood. But it was a nice fantasy while it lasted.
Still. Reality must win out in the end. That’s the only way to stay sane.
So I take a deep breath, hold it, hold it, hold it—for three counts, just as the good doctor ordered—and then I let it out and make my way to the door.
Not the magic door. I walk right past that stupid fucker. Smart Friend, my ass.
No. I walk right to the stairs, which are gone. But it’s all good. I have fantastic claws. I could use the wings as well, but they’re missing at the moment. And if I call them back up I might not be reasonable. So claws it is.
It takes me a while to get to the hallway, or what’s left of it. But that’s just fine. I spend all that time sorting through my list of suspects.
Is it Batty? Oh, he’s involved, I’m sure. But did he design this unhappy ending? Very doubtful.
Same goes for the rest of the monsters we’ve been caretaking over these last weeks. They’re probably evil enough, but not the prime suspects.
No. There is only one person to blame.
This name rolls around in my head as I try it on. And I’m just about to say it out loud and firmly cement it in place when I come up to what used to be the grand hallway and who do I see coming up the stairs?
“Tomas!” Pell rushes across the floor—well, picks his way over the debris, actually. “Are you OK?”
“Isn’t that sweet of you.”
“What?”
“Asking about my mental health.”
He looks me up and down, a worried look on his face.
I pshaw him with a wave of my hand. “I’m fine. Just fine.”
He squints his eyes at the back of the hallway where I just came from. Then he looks at me. “Is your dungeon—”
“Gone.”
“Oh, Tomas, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“You had eggs though. I know we didn’t talk about this, but Pie told me and—”
“It’s. Fine.”
Pell knows me. Maybe better than anyone. So he’s well aware that things are not fine. “What about Madeline?”
“Gone.”
“Oh, Tomas.”
“It’s. Fine!”
He sighs, then gives in. What else can he do? “I think I followed Pie up here. Have you seen her?”
“No. But look.” I point across the hallway where the apothecary is.
And when I say where the apothecary is, I mean where the apothecary actually is. Because it’s still standing. In fact, it’s even got a door. Which is closed.
“Holy shit.” Pell scratches his head. “How is that thing still standing?”
I shrug and say the obvious. Pell really is obtuse sometimes and I’m tired of letting him think he’s the smart one around here. “Magic, Pell. It’s magic. Perhaps we should go inside and get answers. Because I’m sure that’s what’s in there.”
“Yeah.” Pell is still squinting at the door. But then he directs that squint to me. “Tomas. If you need—”
“I do not. I am just. Fine.”
“Right. Well, I’m not. Tarq is dead.”
“Dead?” I don’t know why this surprises me, but it does.
“Vinca is gone.”
And that’s when I realize he’s holding something in his hand. “Is that a head?”
“Tarq’s head. See the horn?”