The architect never finished his thought. With his left hand, Father silenced him with a clenched fist. Curio’s face appeared to pucker, like he was chewing on something unpleasant, his eyes wide. His rounded body traveled to the floor, convulsing.

“Never,” said Father, leaning over him. “That will never happen, Curio. Find another way.” The architect’s head rotated and he writhed in pain. With his boot, Father gave him a little tap, then held out his hand. “Now give it to me. This is what happens when you speak before thinking.”

“Curio.” I fell to my knees, holding his fleshy head in my hands, and looked up at Father. “What have you done to him? Make it stop, Father!” Frantically, I tugged at the man’s suit, trying to find a reason for his distress. The portly architect’s head shook back and forth furiously, pushing away from me like my touch burned him.

“This is not your concern, Cecile.”

“Father!” I put myself between the man and Father’s gaze, hoping it would break whatever magic was flowing from Father.

Father sighed wearily and stared up at the chandelier above us, his voice bored. “Curio. Would you like to be the entrée at tonight’s Dinner of the Daemons?” Father leaned over and held his hand out. “Now.”

Reluctantly, Curio spit something red and raw into Father’s outstretched gloved palm. To my horror, I realized that Curio had severed his own tongue. Foamy drool and blood ran down the man’s feverish face and drizzled over his gray chin stubble.

“Oh no!” Immediately, I scrambled, peeling off my sweater to wipe at the little man’s face. With a fury, I turned to Father, the anger coursing inside me. “How could you do this? How?” My voice was now a shriek, and I could see heads poke up from chairs to see what the fuss was about.

Ignoring me, Father put his face close to Curio’s. “You must find a way to dig deeper toward Styx using the magic you have. Let this be a lesson to you. It will be your arms next.” Father opened the window and tossed Curio’s tongue into the garden, where a pair of crows immediately seized upon it with a loud racket.

“Cecile,” said Father. “You must not interrupt me when I’m doing business.”