“Like what?”
Lucy leaned toward him, eyes glinting red. “Monster things,” he whispered. “Do you think that when Miss Marblemaw finishes her inspection she’ll let me have her skull if I ask nicely? It’s not like she’s using it very much.”
“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Arthur said. “But why don’t we keep that between us?”
“I can do that,” Lucy said with a sly smile. “If I can get four records.”
“Five,” Arthur said. “And that is my final offer.”
“You’re so righteous,” Lucy said. “Give me some skin, you cool cat.”
Who was Arthur to refuse such an offer?
Later, Arthur would tell himself it was inevitable, that it was always building to something. The hearing, David, Miss Marblemaw, the thinly veiled threats from the government: all of it a confluence, creating a perfect storm in broad daylight. The moments in his office—the brief instances where Miss Marblemaw showed proof of her humanity—were a lie, and though he hadn’t let himself believe her, he had hoped she’d be different.
Perhaps her admitted absence of fear should have been his first clue: though David’s time on the island had been short, the yeti had already taught Arthur that a bit of fear could be healthy. What must it feel like to fear nothing? Wasn’t fear a part of the human condition?
He couldn’t help the darker thoughts. What if people who lacked fear were despised and tracked like animals? Surely Miss Marblemaw would have a thing or two to say about that. Or, she might even try to hide it from the world. In ways, so alike, and yet now she was about to prove him wrong in the worst possible way.
Arthur was with Lucy, picking out the fifth record he wanted to purchase. J-Bone and David had made it to the rear of the store, though Arthur could still hear David asking question after question, J-Bone never tiring of answering.
Miss Marblemaw—out of sight, out of mind. Arthur hadn’t seen her in a while, but then he was distracted by Lucy’s constant chatter about how this record is a banger, but this one is bangeriffic, a marked distinction.
Arthur said, “Is there anything above bangeriffic? That doesn’t seem possible—”
A strangled cry, followed by the thudding of feet. Arthur’s head jerked up to see J-Bone hurtling down the middle of the record shop, yelling at the top of his lungs. Behind him, waddling monstrously with claws outstretched, David, lips curled up in a ferocious snarl, fangs on full display. J-Bone hit the front door, causing it to fly open, bouncing off the side of the shop. David followed him outside.
“Are they playing tag?” Lucy asked. “I want to play tag!”
“I don’t—” Before he could finish, Miss Marblemaw swept through the record shop, coat trailing behind her, a twisted expression on her face, furious.
Arthur shot to his feet as Miss Marblemaw burst outside.
Without hesitating, Arthur bent over, scooping up Lucy in one fluid motion as he ran for the door, blood rushing in his ears. For his part, Lucy rolled with it, climbing around Arthur to his back, arms around his neck, little feet digging into his sides.
The sun blinded him the moment he left the record shop. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, Lucy’s breath hot in his ear, Arthur skidded to a stop, bumping into people who had gathered on the sidewalk, all looking at something in the street. Pushing his way through the crowd, Arthur felt his rage boil over when he saw what everyone was staring at.
Miss Marblemaw, in the street, hand like a vise around David’s wrist. She towered above him, coat billowing around her ankles. David struggled against her, but her grip was firm. “How dare you chase humans,” Miss Marblemaw snapped down at him. “You could have killed that poor man!”
“Don’t worry,” Lucy whispered in his ear. “I’ve called them. They’re coming.”
“What? Who are you—”
“Hey!” J-Bone snapped from the other side of the street. “We were playing around! Get your bloody hands off him!”
Miss Marblemaw faltered, but it was brief. “It does not matter.” She jerked David’s arm again, and David whimpered, eyes glassy as he struggled to get away. “This … this thing is an animal! Animals have instincts. You run, their prey drive kicks in, and—”
“Remove your hand from him immediately before I burn it off.”
Miss Marblemaw turned toward Arthur slowly, a strand of her hair plastered against her forehead. “Another threat, Mr. Parnassus? Are you sure that’s an appropriate response? Especially in front of so many witnesses.”
“You’re scaring him!” J-Bone yelled.
Miss Marblemaw looked down at David, who dug his feet into the ground, trying to break free. She leaned forward and said, “What childlike fear for one who hasn’t been a child in decades.” Her grip tightened.
Arthur took a step forward as Lucy slid from his back. People around him gasped as flames began to spread along his shoulders, his arms, his hands, crackling, snapping. The phoenix screamed in his chest, wings spread wide, its eyes a pair of burning stars.
But before the phoenix could erupt, Lucy tugged on Arthur’s shirt, making him look down. “This is what she wants, Dad.”
Dad, Arthur thought through fire.
A shadow momentarily blotted out the sun, and Miss Marblemaw yelped when a wyvern dove toward her, wings folded at his sides. She ducked, and David jerked free, stumbling back against—
Sal, standing in the street, eyes cold as Theodore alighted upon his shoulder. On his left, Phee and Talia, the former holding David’s wrist as ice cubes fell from his eyes and shattered on the concrete, the latter glaring daggers at Miss Marblemaw. On Sal’s right, Chauncey and Lucy. Behind them, as furious as Arthur had ever seen him, Linus, who glanced at Arthur, nodded, and then turned his focus back on Miss Marblemaw.
Talia stepped forward as the inspector pulled herself to her full height. She continued walking until she was only a foot away from Miss Marblemaw. The top of Talia’s cap barely reached her waist. Talia looked her up and down, and said, “DICOMY is dumb, but I can’t believe they’d send someone so stupid. Linus wasn’t stupid, so why are you?”
“You do not get to speak to me that way,” Miss Marblemaw said, face twisted and almost purple. “I am your elder, and therefore your better.”
“Actually, I’m older than you,” Talia said. “So that makes me your elder. As such, a bit of advice: I’d be careful if I were you. Some of us are more powerful than we look.”
Miss Marblemaw glowered down at Talia. “The Antichrist is—”
“Oh, not me,” Lucy said with a grin. “I mean, not just me. She’s talking about Phee.”
Miss Marblemaw blinked. “The forest sprite? Surely you jest. What is she going to do? Grow a tree?”
“Funny you should mention trees,” Phee said, joining her sister in front of Miss Marblemaw. Through his fire, Arthur saw the inspector take an answering step back. “Because the last time people hurt my family, I turned them all into trees. Their flesh became bark. Their blood turned into pitch. Arms, branches. Fingers and toes, leaves.”
