“That depends.” Her eyes cut towards me, “What do you know about the incident at Hollow House?”
“Which one?”
“The mass murder that occurred forty-eight hours ago.” A pause, a slight shift of her jaw, “Left a dozen night guards in pieces without a single witness. Just the recounts of madmen, claiming a thief was running through their halls.”
I purse my lips, musing over the accusation.
“Now that you mention it, I doremember hearing something about that.” A tilt of my head brings her eyes back to mine, “Except my recollection falls somewhere on the east side of town. Chasing down a pack of wild animals, or so it was believed to be.”
“Your report was submitted before the asylum raised any alarms.”
“And yet I still managed to find a few loose ends.” My lips part with a sigh, “I was told tofindthem all. Was I not, mother?”
A stiff smile brushes her lips, “You have come a long way, Calista. Gotten good at a game I did not think you would ever want to play.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always had a choice.” She pauses, letting the air expand between us, “You just always chose to survive.”
I stare back at her, seeing the faint glimmer of pride in her eyes. The hint of an acknowledgement, a niggling suspicion of a woman who took more than she ever gave.
“Maleficent! That dress looks wonderful on you.”
The past gets swept away in a whirlwind of fake eyelashes and white hair, the Sea Witch’s voice almost as intrusive as her sudden presence.
“I do believe it has been at least three weeks since I last saw you. Did you receive the report of my travels?”
Displeasure tightens the lines of Maleficent’s jaw, “Ursela. I see you have finally found your way back to Wolf Hollow.”
“Yes, well, you know I hate to fly and you wouldn’tbelievethe number of imbeciles working for that airline.” An exaggerated sigh follows the flap of her hands, “Needless to say I returned as fast I could. Especially after word got out that the borders-
“Tonight’s gala is to celebrate our triumphs. Not potential threats looming on the horizon.”
“Right, of course.” Ursela Seaborn bows her head, delivering a silent apology, “I can only imagine how dreadful it must have been without me. All those interrogations left unfinished...”
“Calista took care of them all.”
The Dragon pauses, watching the flush creep across Ursela’s cheeks with a knowing smile, “However, your services are always appreciated. No matter how sparse the work may be.”
An insult wrapped in a compliment, the Sea Witch knows her place well enough to let it slide. Pursing her plump lips together, any sort of retort gets lost as a microphone bursts to life.
“Hello? Hello?” Static rings out, causing guests to wince, “Is this working?”
We all turn to see a guest draped in a long black cloak scampering onto the closest cocktail table. Toxic blue strands of hair cling to the end of his forehead, drawing out the man’s Mediterranean complexion and the unusually sharp angle of his chin.
“Who the hell invited this freak to the party!”
A shout that triggers laughter to descend.
“Funny guy. Funny guy over there.” Running a hand through gelled strands of hair, the man looks around the audience with an unnaturally white grin, “Hi, how ya doing?”
“Nobody cares. Get off the stage!”
“Is this a stage? It doesn’t look like a stage to me.” Sweeping the cord to the side, he assess the table with a smirk, “Either way, I’ve been on bigger.”
Tapping the sole of his dress shoes against the table, blue flames erupt. A couple of screams ring out as it engulfs him entirely, eating through the material of his cloak until there's a pile of burnt fabric at his feet.
“Alright, let’s try this one more time.”
