Page 33 of The Demon's Tongue

The color drains from Miss Pickett's face as my words sink in. She takes a step back, her eyes darting to the door behind me. "What... what are you saying?"

I advance slowly, savoring the fear in her eyes. "I'm saying that your time is up, Miss Pickett. No more selling innocent girls to monsters. No more ruining lives for your own profit."

She stumbles backwards, knocking over a vase. It shatters on the floor, the sound echoing through the room. "You... you can't do this. I raised you!"

"You raised me to be sold," I spit back. "You never cared about any of us. We were just merchandise to you."

Miss Pickett's back hits the wall. She looks around wildly, desperate for an escape. "Please, Geneva. Think about what you're doing. I can help you hide from the dark elves. We can work together!"

I laugh, the sound hollow and mirthless. "Work together? No, Miss Pickett. I'm not here for your help."

My hand slips into my pocket, fingers closing around the crystal. Miss Pickett's eyes widen as she sees it, recognition and terror flooding her face.

"What is that?" she whispers, her voice trembling.

I hold up the crystal, watching it catch the dim light. "This? This is your fate, Miss Pickett. Your soul's new home."

18

GENEVA

Iwatch as terror floods Miss Pickett's face, her eyes darting between me and the crystal in my hand. The sight of her fear ignites something within me, a burning desire to make her understand the pain she's caused. For so long, she has destroyed countless lives. The blood on her hands runs like a waterfall.

"You know, Miss Pickett," I start, my voice eerily calm. "I've often wondered if you ever lose sleep over what you've done to us. Surely, there must be some remorse in that pathetic heart of yours."

She swallows hard, pressing herself against the wall. "I-I don't know what you mean. I've only ever done what was necessary."

I can't help but laugh, the sound harsh and bitter. "Necessary? Was it necessary to starve us when we misbehaved? To beat us for the smallest infractions?"

Her eyes widen, and I can see her searching for words. I don't give her the chance.

"Remember little Lily? She was only six when you locked her in that dark closet for a whole day because she wet the bed. She cried for hours, begging to be let out."

Miss Pickett's lips quiver. "That was... that was discipline. It was for her own good."

"Her own good?" I spit the words out. "And what about selling us off like animals? Was that for our own good too? I don't even know what happened to Julia and Margaret! Remember them? You sold them off the same day you sold me off!"

I take a step closer, and she flinches.

"You told us we owed you a debt for taking us in. A debt we never asked for, for a life we never chose. And your solution was to sell us to the highest bidder, to men who see us as nothing more than playthings."

Miss Pickett's face pales even further. "You don't understand. There were expenses, and I had to?—"

"Had to what?" I interrupt, my voice rising. "Had to strip us of our dignity? Our future? Our very humanity?"

I hold up the crystal, watching as it catches the light once more. It flickers with a familiar eeriness. Miss Pickett's eyes are fixed on it, terror evident in every wrinkle of her face.

"Do you know what it's like, Miss Pickett, to be touched by dark elves who see you as nothing more than a piece of meat? To be used and discarded like you're worthless?"

Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out. I press on, relishing her discomfort.

"Of course you don't. You were too busy counting your coins, weren't you? Too busy planning which poor, innocent girl you'd sell next to line your pockets."

Miss Pickett's eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape that doesn't exist. Her fingers twist the fabric of her expensive dress. It's almost ironic. She used to dress me and the other girls in rags, while she adorned herself with jewels and the finest fabrics. Now look at she, groveling before me.

"You don't understand, Geneva," she says, her voice trembling. "There's a social hierarchy that needs to be maintained. The dark elves... they're powerful. They're on top, and there's no denying that! Every human on Protheka knows this!"

I cock an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. She takes a deep breath, seeming to gather her courage.

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