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MOONBELL HOLLOW OFFICE OF FINAL DISPOSITION

Underneath are our names and titles.

Halvar Duskmere - Head Executioner

Ravena Duskmere - Assistant to the Executioner

I rush past it and hurry down the stairs toward the skin-crawling sound of a Thornback shrieking.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, forcing out a smile and trying to look as casual as I can while I quickly throw on a heavy apron, protective eyewear, and grab the thickest gloves we have.

“You’re late,” he says as he holds a thrashing Thornback underwater. He’s trying to drown it in a barrel and there’s water everywhere. Several long sharp spikes are sticking out of my father’s apron and protective gloves. I even see a few in the ceiling and one on the far wall.

“I was waiting for muffins to get out of the oven,” I say, hoping he buys it as I hurry over. “Mrs. Honeycake says hi.”

“Pumpkin?” he asks, perking up as the unforgivable sin of tardiness is forgotten for the moment.

“Lemain,” I say, trying not to wince.

He frowns and turns back to the Thornback, holding its wild, flailing body under the turbulent water.

“They were sold out,” I say as I help, sticking my gloved hand in the water and trying to grab this creature somewhere that isn’t full of deadly spikes. “Lemain is healthier for you though.”

He just grunts.

A thick spike shoots out of the water and misses my head by a few inches. It sinks into the ceiling with a sharp twang, vibrating above me.

“He’s a grumpy little one,” Father says as his arm flexes.

“What did he do?” I ask. I don’t like knowing too much about the creatures we execute. A part of me always feels bad. Father always says I’ll feel differently about deadly beasts when I have children of my own to watch out for. Maybe he’s right. It makes me feel a bit hopeful that he thinks I’ll have children of my own one day. I hope he’s right.

“This little bugger killed three of the King’s hounds,” he says, his neck straining as he holds him under. “And he shot a spike into the head guardsman’s shoulder.”

“Can’t do that, little buddy,” I whisper as the flailing slows and then stops.

I turn away and start to clean up the shop while Father finishes up. I put away the saws, rope, and collect the bloody knives for cleaning.

When Father is sure the Thornback is dead, he pulls him out of the water and carries him to the furnace. I’ve never seen one of these creatures in real life before. They’re ugly and deadly looking with small red eyes and a tiny mouth full of sharp teeth sticking up at all angles.

“Were you at the library?” he asks as he turns the handle of the corpse furnace. It groans under his hand.

“Um, the library? I… um…”

He swings the door open and the room fills with heat.

“You know, starting the fire in the corpse furnace is the assistant’s job,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me as he throws the dead Thornback into the flames.

“Yeah,” I say as he closes the door and turns the handle. “I was going to get to that.”

“Before or after spending all morning in the library?” he asks, pulling off his thick gloves.

I watch him pluck out the Thornback spikes embedded everywhere and then he places them into a drawer, perhaps to make a deadly weapon, perhaps to ground into some kind of poison, or perhaps to keep as a souvenir. You never know with my father and right now, he doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to explain.

“I’m sorry,” I say, grabbing the bag from the bakery. “Muffin?”

He grumbles as I toss him one. His face twists up as he bites into it. “Too sour.”

The man complains, but he eats the whole thing and even takes another one. I hold back my smirk.