When
I opened the cage and released the girl, she howled past me, a cyclone powered
by atomic pain. I crouched against the
wall and covered my ears but I could still hear her screams, the terrified
shouts of those in the lost restaurant, as she raged deadly witness against
them.
After
it was all over the followers had gone, sucked up in the girl’s funnel
cloud. Everything lay on the ground,
broken. The restaurant would not be
serving again.
I
was wondering with a pang of regret where Marietta had gone when a dishevelled
figure with a lopsided purple hairdo and an old face limped over to me. The cruelty in her expression was now mingled
with resentment. We just stood and
looked at each other for a while, until she said, “You think you have won. But the spell is broken for you, too.”
“I
know,” I answered. “But at least I can
live with myself.”
“We’ll
see about that,” she replied. She then
disappeared, rather against her will, I thought, into a cloud of foul-smelling
smoke.
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