The Madman’s Daughter

“I see you’ve already met our neighbors,” Father said. “Let me introduce you properly.”

 

 

Father was acting like nothing was amiss. I glanced at Edward. We’d said we would play along until we had a chance to escape the island, but this was excruciating. Father had abandoned me. Lied to me. Ruined my life. It was all I could do not to claw his face. I almost would rather have faced the murderer than go back with him.

 

The beasts stared at him with wide eyes and quivering lips. He was king here. And Montgomery hovered on the outskirts like a reluctant prince.

 

My knees buckled suddenly. The snakes of my illness were coming fast, coiling up my legs. Edward grabbed my elbow but I waved him away, swaying slightly. I needed an injection. I needed to get away from my father’s all-consuming presence that stole the oxygen from the air.

 

I leaned on my knees, drawing in quick breaths. Trembling. Trying to quell the rage at this man I had once called family. I felt Edward’s hand on my shoulder, heard a few reassuring words in my ear, but I couldn’t make them out. All I could picture was the beast strapped to the table, writhing in pain. Its torturer’s blood flowed in my own veins, a cruel inheritance. I pressed my fingers against my eyes to keep from crying. But a single sob escaped.

 

Then Edward’s hand was gone.

 

I saw it happen from the corner of my eye, just a quick movement. The crowd gasped. There was a crack like a twig snapping. And then a flash of blood.

 

It happened so fast.

 

Father stumbled back, clutching his face, the parasol falling to the ground. Blood trickled between the white slats of his fingers. Edward’s arm was still balled in a fist. He’d punched Father in the mouth. I gaped.

 

What happened to pretending everything was fine?

 

Edward flexed his hand. “He made you cry,” he explained.

 

Montgomery rushed through the crowd as the islanders erupted in a frenzy of excitement at the smell of the blood. Caesar raised his staff, the red robes sweeping out like a curtain. Even his nose flared at the smell.

 

Montgomery tackled Edward. They scuffled, kicking up clouds of dust. The python-woman threw herself in front of Father protectively. Several others followed her lead. At last Montgomery wrestled Edward to his knees and pinned his arms behind his back.

 

My skull pounded as if I were drunk. Montgomery was slave to my father’s will. Helping him with his terrible work, defending him, even at Edward’s expense. Montgomery wasn’t cruel, I knew that to my core. Father might have dragged him here as a child, raised him to do terrible things, but Montgomery wasn’t a monster. He shouldn’t act as Father’s puppet.

 

“Don’t listen to him!” I yelled, pounding my fist against Montgomery’s shoulder. The surprise made him hesitate. I dug my fingers into his hand, trying to pry his fingers off Edward. “Let him go!”

 

“Stop this!” Father’s voice was like the thunderous voice of God. Specks of blood spattered as he spoke.

 

A rough hand closed over my mouth. Lumpy scales grazed my lips—Puck. I recoiled in disgust, tasting the sweat on his palm. He wrapped his other arm around my chest and pulled me off Montgomery with the strength of two men.

 

My chest heaved. Tension still crackled in the air. The islanders fawned over Father, but he waved them away, rubbing at his split bottom lip. I stared at Montgomery. Don’t listen to him, my every thought urged. You know this is wrong.

 

Montgomery only looked away.

 

“Really, this is no way to act.” Father drew out his handkerchief and spit into it. Red blood flashed against the crisp white linen. “We must set a good example for them. You most of all, Juliet.”

 

“I know what you’re doing in that laboratory,” I said. “You’re a monster.”

 

Father stared, his black eyes deep and unreadable. He tucked the handkerchief back into his vest pocket. “Release them. They won’t run again. They’ve no place to go.”

 

A low growl came from deep in Puck’s throat, but he released me. Montgomery slowly let go of Edward’s arms.

 

Father picked up the parasol, now broken and stained. “So you’ve found me out, have you? You saw what was on that table and you’ve seen my islanders. Of course you’ve reached the only logical conclusion. You’re smart, after all. Smarter than you should be.” His black eyes shone. “It’s a shame you weren’t a boy.”

 

“You’ve crossed the line,” I said. “This is God’s work, not ours.”

 

“You sound like your mother,” he said. It wasn’t a compliment. He walked among the beasts, picking clumps of dirt from their hair, straightening their ragged clothes, as a father might tend to a child. A shaggy man with striped hair falling in his eyes stood straighter as Father approached. Father placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Juliet, dear, these animals have been given a great gift, made man by careful and studied science. They’re exceptional, don’t you see? Capable of human thought and action, but without mankind’s corruption.”

 

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