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I remain in the shadows for a second longer, studying the two monsters standing between myself and my mate. She’s just on the other side of that cement wall, standing in a tunnel that Uni found—one that was created by wayward sandworms.
“Got any fives?” one of the monsters asks.
He’s abnormally tall with arms nearly the length of his torso. Two horns protrude from his bald head. His skin is a bright, stop-sign shade of red interspersed here and there with green veins.
I’m gonna call him…Christmasy.
“Go fish,” the second monster says, waving a talon-tipped hand towards the direction of the pile.
This one reminds me a little bit of a scorpion, though he has human hands and a humanoid face.
Scorpion and Christmasy it is, then.
Christmasy bares his teeth. “You’re full of shit! I know you have fives in your hand.”
“Fuck you,” Scorpion snaps. “I ain’t no cheater.”
Christmasy throws down his cards and lurches to his feet. He places his hands palm down on the table—he doesn’t even need to bend to do so since his arms are that long.
“Prove it. Show me your hand.”
“Fuck off.”
“Show me your hand!”
Scorpion’s barbed, serrated tail curls over his misshapen body as he bares his teeth.
“Fuck. You.”
Christmasy lunges at Scorpion then.
Huh. Maybe I won’t need to kill them. Maybe they’ll do the job for me.
The two of them roll around on the ground, slashing and biting and clawing at one another.
For a moment, I allow myself to pretend that I’m in a different place, a different time, watching a stupid play about two idiots. Amusement fills me, bolstering my confidence, and a tiny smile touches my lips.
But then I think of the monster twenty or so floors above me, staring out at the Ebony Kingdom like a monarch overlooking his land.
Anger fills me, white-hot and blistering, and my hands ball into fists.
Barnabas willneverrule the Ebony Kingdom. I’ll make sure of it.
Deciding I’ve had enough watching, I step out of the shadows and fold my arms over my chest. It takes the two idiots a solid minute before they see me. They stop wrestling each other and blink up at me with wide, terrified eyes.
“I have to say, you two amuse me.” I absently pluck at a piece of lint on my shoulder. “It’s a shame you picked the wrong side to fight for. Now, you have to die.”
“Creeper.” Scorpion's voice is a pathetic whimper as he attempts to prostrate himself before me. “Whatever do you mean?—?”
I wave a hand in the air dismissively. “Cut the shit, yeah? I don’t know what Barnabas promised you to turn you into his little bitch—power, more than likely, and a chance to move up in the world—but whatever it is led to your death.”
“Please, no!” This comes from Christmasy who has staggered to his feet and is now holding his long arms out in front of him, as if he means to fend me off. “We have information!”
“Yeah.” Scorpion nods eagerly. “We know where Barnabas is and how many monsters he has protecting him and his right-hand man’s?—”
I feign a yawn, covering my mouth dramatically. But despite my nonchalance, my curiosity piques. I have a general layout of the building, but I didn’t dare travel too close to where I suspect my father to be. Knowing him, he’ll have his monster minions staking out every shadow, waiting for me to make an appearance.
He won’t consider me working with the other Terrors to bring him down even though we all appeared in the meat-packing plant. He probably thinks that all they cared about is power and appearances because he stole one of the four kings of the kingdom. Or perhaps he believes that I lied to get the other Terrors there.
