Page 2 of Monsterland Mayhem
I swallow and bow my head once more.
My morning chores will soon become afternoon chores, which means I’ll be working late tonight.
Poor Beast, I think, sighing inside. He’s always waiting for me to bring him scraps from dinner.
Usually bones and discarded meats.
He’s my pet wolf—if there is such a thing. I met him during one of my many visits to the neighboring forest. At first, I thought he meant to eat me. But all he did was nudge me away from a particularly thorny bush. Then he accompanied me on my trek.
I thought it was a fluke.
Until he met me by the same bush the following night.
And the night after that, too.
By the fifth encounter, I was prepared and brought him food.
That started a little over two years ago, right around my nineteenth birthday. Now I visit him every night.
I hoped to spend a few extra hours with him tonight, to celebrate my birthday.
Alas…
“Where is she?” a deep voice booms, causing me to stiffen.
Master Pillar.
An air of smoky tendrils curls around me, preceding his arrival. I pick up on that scent every time he enters this chapel, his presence an intoxicating claim to my senses.
“She’s here, sire,” Sentry Pinka says, her voice breathy.
Everyone in our district reacts this way to Master Pillar. He’s seen as a deity, his fiery magic palpable even to me. But I don’t dare look upon his face. I’ve heard it’s quite beautiful, almostimpossibly so. Baroness Clarice and her daughters often discuss it.
“Right, let’s get this over with,” Master Pillar murmurs as he comes to stand at the altar holding the sacred drink.
All I can see is his boots—the fine leather soft and expensive.
“Ailsa Marvel?” he asks.
“Yes, Master Pillar,” I reply without lifting my head.
He says nothing for a moment, then clears his throat and the ritual begins.
“We’re gathered here on this momentous occasion to celebrate Ailsa Marvel’s twenty-first birthday.”
While his words are positive in nature—and echo the thousands of ceremonies I’ve heard before—his tone indicates his boredom.
“She was born to mortal parents, Janice and Ralph Marvel. She has shown no remarkable traits or magical abilities. However, as with the edict set forth by our beloved Silver King, all maidens and gentlemen are required to drink from the enchanted chalice on their twenty-first birthday.”
I fight the urge to tremble, my mind more than aware of what comes next.
At least it’ll be quick,I think.
“Rise, Ailsa Marvel of Hatter District,” he commands. “Rise and taste the bespelled elixir.”
It takes effort to stand like he’s demanded, my knees shaking in pain at having been pressed into the marble for so long.
And without an escort to assist me, it’s even harder. However, it would be a disgrace to place my hands on the ground.
