Page 158 of The Sea Witch's Son

“That man would make a great addition to my aquarium.” Ursela purses her lips in distaste, “I would enjoy watching him swim with the eels.”

"Now that is a sight I would love to see."

We follow the crowd out of the grand foyer and into the dining room. The spacious foyer disappears behind us as we enter the space made for negotiations among the board.

On a typical evening, three large mahogany tables stretch from either end of the room and offer plenty of seating options for the board and their respective prodigy. Elaborate chandeliers and candles are set out to provide a soft lighting for the unpleasant matters of business ahead.

However, that does not seem to be the case here.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Queen Marie’s shrill voice bounces off the stone walls. Uneasy looks are exchanged as we funnel past the entrance and find ourselves in a room that’s empty except for a metal folding chair stationed in the middle of the room.

My mother claps in delight, “The entertainment has finally arrived!”

The crowd makes a circle around the man tied to the chair. Blood and pieces of flesh surround his polished shoes, the neat material of his dress shirt ripped and drenched with blood.

The man’s head is covered with a burlap sack, and it suddenly dawns on me that the festivities have officially come to an end.

And the execution is about to begin.

Chapter 59

MARLIN

The Drache women know how to make an entrance.

“Thank you for joining us on such a lovely evening.”

Stilettos click against black tiles as blonde curls and a leather jacket step out of the shadows. Calista offers everyone a vicious smile as she wipes her blade on the dark material of her pants.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

She gestures towards the man tied to the chair, but nobody moves. I catch Jaafar’s disapproving look as he takes in the casual state of Calista’s clothes.

“Where’s the Dragon?”

Some brave soul voices the question, and it causes everyone to swivel their heads, as if the mistress of Drache Manor was hiding among the crowd.

“She’s coming.” Calista grins, causing a couple of people to take a step back, “But I wanted to give everyone a little party favour to get the blood flowing.”

Silence falls upon the room, quiet enough that we can all hear the hushed whimpers of mercy. The hands bound to the chair twitch restlessly as more unpleasant sounds escape the burlap sack.

Calista walks over and grabs the ragged sack with her nails. I watch her pull the bag off the man’s head and wait for the big reveal.

Except it’s not who I thought it was going to be.

“Oh my God.”

Screams ring out and Madame Cartier promptly faints in her husband’s arms. Gaston is quick to catch her, but not before one of Jaafar’s servants pukes all over the ground.

“Could she not have left an eyeball for me?” My mother huffs, taking in what’s left of the man’s face, “They were such a lovely colour.”

Anton Clementon sits blindly tied to the chair, both of his orbs gauged from their sockets. Chunks of cartilage have been carved from his nose and basic bone structure, leaving a man who does not resemble anything more than a gruesome hunk of meat.

Even I cringe, taking in the flaps of skin hanging off his face. If it weren’t for the tuffs of orange hair, it would be impossible to identify him at all.

The doors to the dining room crash open, and the newly recovered Madame Cartier lets out a scream.

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