“Then I crush the little owl.”
“There’s an owl in that box?”
“You’re smart, you’re quick, whatever you are.”
Quill could now see the mask clearly. It was cradling a solid black box in both hands. “That looks heavy. Want some help carrying it?” Quill extended a hand.
The mask stepped back and laughed lightly. “This machine is very fast. It’s like I said, I have the finest of everything.” He set the box down on the smooth white stone floor and hovered a gray boot over the top of it. “If I step down, the owl dies. Instantly. Now, suppose you tell me your story.”
Quill slid his hand down to his side. “Well it’s more of a compilation of stories, really, but they all start with a queen and her…”
“I see you don’t believe me. You don’t think I’ll kill your pet?”
“I don’t have a pet.”
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