Author: Megan Shepherd

He nodded, throwing a wary look at the boar-faced man. He wiped the dried blood off his forehead with his shirt cuff. “As well as can be.” He spit a bloody line of saliva into the dirt. “They grabbed me by the falls. Your father’s behind this. They think he’s some kind of god.”

The crowd grew more agitated. They circled us, leaning in, watching our every move. Cymbeline and the two other boys dropped to all fours, crawling closer, but Caesar pointed his staff at them.

“Thou shalt not crawl in the dirt!”

The boys shrank back and stumbled to their feet.

I pushed myself up, but Edward pulled me closer, just for a second. “Whatever happens, stay close.”

Before I could ask him what he meant, a shadow was cast over his face. The crowd suddenly grew quiet. I spun to find the face of a different kind of beast peering at us, a white parasol balanced on his shoulder.

Twenty-four

FATHER SMILED. “AH, THERE you are. You’ve given us a devil of a time trying to find you.”

Edward and I scrambled to our feet. Through a break in the crowd I caught a glimpse of Montgomery standing next to the wagon with a rifle resting on his hip, avoiding my gaze. I was in part relieved to see him. He’d take us back to the compound’s strong walls and away from the lurking danger in the jungle. But I couldn’t get the image out of my head of the beast strapped to the table, Father humming while the candle wax slowly dripped and Montgomery assisting. I felt betrayed, as though the boy I’d idolized was nothing more than a fantasy. And yet watching him through the crowd, I still felt that pang of the bond between us, a bond now complicated by Edward.

“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 have rather 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 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. He seemed more refined, but even his nose flared at the smell.

Montgomery tackled Edward to the ground. 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 spit. “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 sandy 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.”

Anger seeped backward up my spine.

“You’ve been listening to this silly boy. He’s not one of us, I told you that from the beginning. Come back to the compound. You need an injection, and food and water. I shall explain my work to you. It’s only the shock of it that has you so tightly wound. Once you understand the science behind it, you’ll see things my way.”

My growing anger was overshadowed by an encroaching weakness in my legs. I could feel my illness’s cold grip on me tighten. I doubled over, bracing myself on my knees. As my legs faltered, Montgomery’s arms were suddenly around me, picking me up effortlessly. His heart beat wildly through his shirt.

“Get her back at once,” I heard Father say, though my senses were fading. “And you, Prince. When we return, you and I will need to reexamine the nature of our arrangement.”

If the arrangement had anything to do with Father’s plan to marry me off to Edward, I couldn’t imagine Father was still pleased with his choice for son-in-law.

The village spun as Montgomery carried me through the crowd. The python-woman pushed forward, grazing her fleshy fingers delicately against my cheek. Montgomery ordered her away. I grabbed at his biceps, feeling vertigo. His heart beat faster.

“I tried to warn you.” His voice was a fierce whisper.

I heard the big draft horse grunt, and then the rusty hinges of the wagon’s back gate. Suddenly Montgomery’s arms were gone, replaced by stiff wooden boards. Something was beside me in the wagon bed, something long and wrapped in cloth. The stench of congealed blood choked my throat. I twisted away from the smell, too weak to sit up.

“You insisted on coming here,” Montgomery whispered harshly. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me or mad at himself. “I should have refused. I’d hoped . . . Blast, it doesn’t matter.”

Then he was gone and the wagon was moving. Each jostle felt like the tossing waves at sea. A sudden bump rolled me into the wrapped fabric. My hand fell into a sticky substance.

I looked down at my hand. Congealed blood clotted between my fingers. I’d rolled over onto a canvas shroud wrapped around what had to be a body. Blood soaked through the fabric in three red streaks across its chest. Another victim.

The monster, Jaguar had said.

The wagon bumped again, and the canvas fell away from the face. It was an islander woman, or had been. The jaw had been ripped away, leaving only long jagged incisors poised in a permanent scream. Gashes streaked her cheeks and forehead, already covered with a voracious swarm of flies. A scream hurled up my throat, but I never heard it. I’d slipped into a welcoming darkness.

Twenty-five

I AWOKE IN MY bed at the compound. My memories were hazy, sunken into the moss-laden swamps of my mind, where I was content to leave them. I remembered only hints. Peeling skin on the dead woman’s face. Bloodstains on the canvas tarpaulin. Flies buzzing like thunderclouds. There was a lingering stench of blood in my mouth and the smell of lavender in the air.

A soft humming filled the corners of the room like sunlight. I imagined for a moment that I was back home on Belgrave Square, with Mother humming while she made me tea. But it was a poor fantasy. London had never been so stiflingly humid.

I opened my eyes. The humming was nothing more than an insect’s steady drone, but the lavender was real. Alice stood over a steaming copper pot on the dresser, her back to me, rolling the flower between her palms to release the fragrance. Tiny purple blooms tumbled into the pot, filling the room with their calming scent. Montgomery leaned beside her, painting a clear gummy substance onto the mirror with a thick brush. Half the glass was shattered into fine cracks like a spider’s web. I didn’t recall how it had broken.

Alice brought her fingers to her face, breathing in the soft, earthy scent. She held her cupped hands to Montgomery. He inhaled deeply, giving her an easy smile I hadn’t seen since we were children—and even then only rarely. My heart wrenched a little. They were in my room, but I felt like the intruder.

“Alice,” I said. Her name caught in my rusty throat. She and Montgomery turned in surprise. Her hand instinctively flew to cover her harelip. I cleared my throat. Seeing them so playful should have cheered me, but it only twisted something inside me.

Montgomery crossed his arms at the foot of the bed, the lightness gone from his face. “You’re awake. Are you feeling well?”

“There was a body. Someone died.”

His hands clutched the footboard. “A woman from the village.”

“Another accident?”

He didn’t reply.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. The gossamer cracks split my face into a hundred little pieces. “What happened to the mirror?”

He gave it a glance, showing a thousand frowns. “Don’t you remember? You threw your silver brush. It shattered.”

I sat up, studying the fractured wall of eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“You were aiming for me.”

My reflection smirked. “I must have been more clearheaded than I thought.”

Alice’s wide eyes focused on the towel she dried her hands with. Montgomery’s lips fell open and I thought he might say more, but then he shook his head. “I’ll tell the doctor you’re awake.”