‘Genoa’ and ‘Arachne’ turned to face one another. After a brief stare-down, the Arachne-puppet gripped the chin of Genoa and tore off her face. No blood or bone came out, just splinters.
Juliana sunk back into her seat as her mother started sparring with Arachne despite her lack of face.
“Not quite the spectacle of the real thing, is it?”
Giving a small start, Juliana turned to Willie. She had almost forgotten he was there. “You’ve been spying on my mother?”
“I do so enjoy a good show and you were so diligent in carrying around that doll eye. It would have been a crime not to watch. Sandwich?” he asked as a silver plate appeared in his hand. A pile of bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches materialized on top. The bread was a light golden brown, grilled to perfection.
And the smell.
Juliana had to wipe off a small bit of drool before responding. “I don’t think–”
A loud rumbling of her stomach interrupted her.
“Nonsense. You must be famished. How long has it been since you last ate?”
Her first nibble turned into a bite. A second sandwich found its way into her other hand before the first finished disappearing. A third and fourth followed without delay.
The entire plate was gone before she finally felt full.
“See,” he said, “famished.”
A tremor shook the entire amphitheater. Juliana gripped the edges of her seat to keep from tumbling off as the ground shook beneath her feet.
The two fighting imitations weren’t quite so lucky. ‘Arachne’ collapsed forwards, one arm striking through the wooden doll of her mother’s chest.
As the tremors died off, Juliana glanced to her side. Willie hadn’t budged the entire time. He did have a somewhat concerned look on his face.
“Dreadful things,” he said with undisguised disdain. “Are you alright, milady?”
Juliana narrowed her eyes as she frowned at the demon seated to her side. “Weren’t you trying to kill me the last time we met? Now you are concerned about me and, what, fattening me up?” She gestured towards the empty sandwich platter.
Willie gave an elegant snort. “I am not about to eat you. As I said then, it is a token effort mostly for the sake of tradition. No demon wishes to be beholden to a weak master even if that means a brief respite from this place.”
“And you still tried despite my ring?”
“Truthfully, I failed to notice. King Zagan’s presence overpowers your little token by far. He was a tad distracting.”
Juliana shuffled in her seat, trying her best to ignore the fight between the puppet versions of her mother and Arachne. “I don’t suppose I can leave to find my friend, can I?”
He turned to her with a smile–an Arachne smile. “And miss out on all of my
— — —
Genoa shared a quick glance with Arachne at Nel’s recounting of the situation.
The spider-demon gave her half of a shrug in return.
“She knows it isn’t us, right?” Genoa asked as she turned back to Nel.
“You look significantly different from your puppet version. And she didn’t run up and hug you or anything.”
Carlos stumbled forwards, splashing into the water as he moved towards Nel. The augur winced back as one of his bony hands gripped her rotten arm, but he didn’t appear to notice. He put his face a few inches from hers and stared into her eyes.
“That is my daughter,” Carlos said, “not some puppet? The real and true Juliana?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Carlos held on, staring for another few minutes. His knees gave out beneath the water as he stumbled backwards into Genoa’s waiting arms. He turned, held her tight, and immediately started crying. “She’s alright,” he said between sobs. “Our little girl is alright.”
Patting him on the back, Genoa said, “I trained her. Of course she is alright. And now it is time to bring her home.” Over his shoulder, Genoa locked eyes with Nel. “How do I get there?”
“I don’t kn–”
“The waters,” Ylva interrupted, “connect all of Hell.”
Genoa glanced down at her feet. She was already waist deep in the dark water. Her feet looked like nothing more than shadows beneath the surface. “Great,” she said. “How do I use it?”
“Wade out and submerge yourself. You will feel a pressure. As the pressure mounts, think of your destination. Names of the owner will prevent undue wandering.”
“So just think of Juliana? Or a theater hall with an amphitheater? What do you mean by wandering?”
Eva stepped forwards, her black feet parting the water around them. “When I was in Hell, I managed to find my way around a bit. I wasn’t thinking of much of anything before finding myself in the abattoir. Thinking of home brought me back to my–a safe island I found myself on.”
Ylva looked down at Eva with her eyebrows ever so slightly raised. “The abattoir? Truly?”
Eva gave a small shrug. “That’s where she said I was,” she said with a gesture towards a nodding Arachne.
