Thaddeus said, “Give me a little more time. If the last trial does not work, then you can put the mask on him.”
Madeline held her gaze on Thaddeus for a moment. Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
“Besides,” Thaddeus stated, waving his hands in a grand gesture. “Why continue to pay for someone’s services when you can buy them and use it forever? Do you want to risk only having one shot at it instead of him becoming a part of your army?”
Madeline stood stoic in her expression. Her eyes never wavered from Thaddeus. Her lips pursed.
Thaddeus asked, “It is your father’s saying, is it not?”
“You better be right,” she answered. “Or else I’ll put the mask on you first.”
Thaddeus bowed his head, tipping his tricorn hat. “As you wish, your highness.”
“Drop him,” Madeline commanded.
Hugo crashed to the floor as the ghouls let him go. The pain reverberated through him as his face bounced off the hardwood. The mask zapped him of energy, as if trying to break him down and destroy him bit by bit. His body told him to lie on the cold hardwood forever. He had to continue. To keep the faith. But his body was weakened.
Hang on, Hugo thought.Just hang on.
An older man entered the living room. He wore a finely tailored frock coat with matching pants. He didn’t hurry, but he walked with purpose and his head held high. He carried himself with dignity and grace, standing tall and properly greeting Madeline. He too had a mask of white with black circles over his face. “Ms. Sinclair, it is the beast.”
Madeline spun around to face him, anger in her voice. “What about the beast, Mr. Farnsworth?”
“It has become erratic. Wild. Untamable. It is not like the other souls we have encountered,” Russell Farnsworth responded.
“I want the creature for my army. It will be a powerful ally,” she said.
“Understandable, but none of the usual trials are working. It keeps attacking the images,” he said with his voice raising. “Not to mention, the insistent knocking. All it does is knock against the walls, the wood, the windows. It attacks everyone who has gotten close to it.”
“Good,” she said. “I want to retain its fiery spirit.”
“Perhaps the rider should deal with it,” he suggested.
Madeline approached Russell and placed a hand on his shoulder. “My dear Farnsworth. It’s all a part of the grand vision. We need the beast. You’ll have to tame the beast. It’s not often we get something of such spirit.”
“We have never had such a beast,” he replied.
“Precisely,” she said.
The four ghouls wailed an ear-piercing shriek at the same time. Hugo covered his ears as the shrieking ripped through his body. Madeline smacked the ground with her parasol, dangerously close to Hugo’s head.
“Now what?” she muttered under her breath. She moved toward the front door. “Everyone, follow me. Let’s deal with this issue. Mr. Price, I expect it done before I get back.”
The ghouls, the rider, and Russell Farnsworth followed her out of the house.
Thaddeus followed as well. “Your highness, might I have a word with you first?”
“Walk and talk,” she said.
Thaddeus followed the group and disappeared out of the house. Hugo was alone. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Hugo was alone in this wretched, ghoulish house. He pushed himself up off the floor.
His body hurt and burned with every movement. The mask, even if placed on his face for a moment, had nearly destroyed him. Every step was searing pain, but he kept moving forward. He shambled past the couch where moments before—or was it an eternity?—Alice sat. He spoke with her. Touched her. She was real. He knew it.
“What did he mean by made-up?” Hugo asked.
There was someone who would know. He had to talk to Alice’s reflection.
Hugo stumbled into the hallway, falling to the hardwood floor. The pain reverberated through his bones. His body begged him to remain on the cold floor, but his soul wouldn’t let him. He crawled to the base of the steps. Hugo gritted his teeth as he pushed himself up off the floor and regained his footing. The pain seared through him.