“Here.”
Her little hand took the mirror’s handle. She studied the glass, tilting her neck from left to right, her lips slightly parted. She watched her reflection studiously, blinking her long lashes in random spurts. She pulled the mirror back and petted her stub across her cheek, tracing it down her chin and back around to the other side. It was as if her own body fascinated her.
The sudden sound of a roaring engine followed by a harsh squeaking caught Samuel’s attention. He went over to the barred window and got on his tiptoes. He looked around and spotted a jeep in the far corner, and a large man with balding hair stepped out of the vehicle. It was the mayor. His suit was black, and his tie appeared to be a silky shade of purple. Samuel’s nerves caught fire. He extended his hand forward, motioning for the mirror. Zei handed it over without a fuss.
Samuel gathered up Zei’s sketchbook and pencil as well, tucking them in between his arm and his chest. He had to move fast. He hurriedly put the supplies back inside the hope chest and slammed it shut. He didn’t want to bring up Zei’s writing or her sketches, not yet. Not if he didn’t have to. He came back to the bars, pressing his face against the cold metal before slamming the gate shut.
“He’s here,” he said in a lower voice. “Please, I need your help. Do whatever I tell you to do. Okay? Just this one time?”
Zei said nothing, but something about her gaze made him believe she was willing to play along for the time being. Samuel straightened his posture. The wooden door into the cell room flew open, and the mayor sauntered inside, his smoking pipe hanging from his plump lips. He closed the door behind him and grinned as he removed his jacket, exposing his pressed, collared shirt and tight suspenders. Samuel carefully took the jacket from the mayor’s hold, placing it on the coat rack in the corner of the room. The mayor removed his pipe, smiling as he extended his arms welcomingly. Samuel bowed low, noticing an awful twinkle of delight on the mayor’s face. He stretched himself back up, and the sound of another engine echoed across the room. It had to be the sheriff.
“How can I serve?”
The mayor sucked on his tobacco.
“Formalities, boy. How are you? It’s been a long time.”
Samuel turned so that he could look at both the mayor and Zei.
“I am doing well, sir. Charles has been kind to me.”
“Good. He needs good friends, that strange boy.”
Samuel paused, unsure of how to respond next. He would hold onto Zei’s secrets as much as he could, but he knew better than to play the mayor for a fool.
“She’s doing well. Her leg is healed, as you can see. She’s gotten much more comfortable with me.”
Zei lowered her head slightly. Samuel cleared his throat.
“She is calm now. Peaceful. Compliant.”
The sound of harsh yelling from the outside hallway made Samuel’s muscles spasm. He heard the sheriff screaming obscenities, followed by a quick threat.
“Don’t make me break your skull!”
The mayor removed his pipe, smiling more widely.
“Sorry. I forgot to mention that we have a guest.”
The sheriff burst into the room, thrusting a bound man in after him. The man had to be in his forties or so, his lanky arms tied behind his back with a rope. A gag covered his mouth, his teeth gnawing into the white cloth. The man jerked his shoulders in resistance to his oppressor’s sturdy grip, but the sheriff jostled him harder. He hurled the man down, his head smashing into the ground. The man winced as he struggled to lift his face, blood running down his eyebrows.
Samuel’s breath stopped. He recognized the man. It was Claudette’s father.
The sheriff spat on the ground, glancing at Samuel before handing his revolver to the mayor.
“I’ve done my job. Can I go now?”
The mayor nodded. “Thanks, Eugene.”
With that, the sheriff stormed away as suddenly as he’d come.
Samuel pushed up his glasses, biting the inside of his mouth. Zei’s chains rattled as she stood and unleashed a piercing stare at the mayor.
“I am sorry, dear lad, if this is upsetting to you.”
The mayor pulled back the revolver and pointed it at Claudette’s father.
“I am a very patient man. I get what I want and reclaim what is rightfully mine. Even if it takes a bit of waiting. Isn’t that right, Harold? You thieving ingrate.”
Claudette’s father squirmed, his frantic eyes falling on Samuel as his teeth chomped into the cloth. The mayor took a step forward.
“And now it’s time to see what demons can do.”
Samuel stepped back, the heels of his boots crunching into the dirt floor. He readjusted his frames, his voice meek and vulnerable.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“This is my thief, boy. Caught him tampering with my safe. Found more than three hundred silvers stuffed in his socks.”
Claudette’s father writhed on the ground, the dark circles around his eyes making him seem like a woodlands critter. Zei stood erect, her eyes glowing. Samuel rubbed his palms across his thighs. Was the mayor telling the truth? Samuel remembered the festival, and his tongue swelled.
“Didn’t he earn a bonus? For his hard work at the estate?”
The mayor’s belly jiggled, and he shook the gun a bit.
“A bonus! I pay my employees fairly. Do I not?”
Claudette’s father mumbled, but it was impossible to understand him with the gag. The mayor gave him a swift kick in the ribs.
“Shut your mouth,” the mayor hissed. “At least you could face your punishment like a true northerner, and not like some entitled greenlands bitch.”
Zei shifted her weight, and the chains rattled. The mayor nodded in her direction, his mouth forming a casual grin.
“Greetings to you, demon child. It’s been a long while.” He turned to Samuel. “Oh my. That demon looks deceptively lovely. Did you dress it?”
“Sir? I mean. Yes, sir.”
The mayor took a puff from his pipe.
“That is a bit concerning. Playing dress-up with a demon. It’s unnatural for a man to spend his time on frivolous things, don’t you think? Perhaps you’re not as good of an influence on my son as I hoped.”
Samuel stood silently as the mayor removed the pipe from his mouth and carefully laid it on the ground.
“Regardless. I’ve hired you for a job, boy. That job was to be this demon child’s caretaker, to befriend it, to get it to trust you. Have you done your job to the best of your abilities?”
“I believe I have.”
“You have a knife with you, correct?”
Samuel’s skin burned intensely. What was the mayor planning? What was going to happen to Claudette’s father? Could he do anything to help him?
“Yes.”
“Get it.”
Samuel went to the hope chest, the muscles in his chest constricting. He retrieved his hunting knife. The handle nearly slipped out of his grip as he unsheathed the blade.