and more captivating than Atra’s could ever be.
Another wave of pleasure washed over him. He looked at Da’s body. It was not right to have such wondrous feelings. It was wicked. It was an abomination. And yet he could not deny the power of them.
“In time you will become as great as the Goat King himself.”
Suddenly a music inside him swelled. It sang in his blood and bones. He thought it was the crown, but then he remembered he’d dropped that. For a brief moment the fog in his mind cleared away. The woman’s voice fell flat.
Talen looked at her. Gone were the luminous eyes, the elegant neck and brow. Gone the alluring lips. In their place were black pits for eyes and a sucker mouth full of sharp teeth.
He recoiled.
An illusion—she was not one of the old gods. Not a benefactor. It was as if a huge blast of cold wind had just awakened him. His mind had been foggy, but now was crystal sharp.
And yet the desire to serve her seeped back through him.
“Yes,” said the woman. “He too was a master of the harvest that served my mother ages ago. For a time, the populace under his care yielded marvelous results. You will be his heir.”
The Goat King’s heir . . .
The title felt marvelous, and yet, underneath it ran a filth with a sickening taint.
The glorious woman was back. His heart longed to serve her. But in his blood and bones he knew the truth—that longing was her doing.
He had been twisted—to crave her.
That knowledge momentarily lessened her power, and he wondered: Was this what his mother had seen in him and given her life to fix? Surely even the pox wouldn’t take a whole life to heal. No, more likely she’d recognized the enemy’s tool and given her life to engineer one small flaw so that his adoration wouldn’t be totally complete.
But if that were the case, it wasn’t much of a flaw because the woman’s joy rushed back to suffuse him.
“River!” roared Uncle Argoth. “Now!”
River rushed toward him. She moved with frightening speed. In an eyeblink she sped from across the chamber and leapt into a flying kick.
He’d fought with River. He knew, at this speed, her kick would carry the force to break bones.
The woman stepped back, and as she did, Talen realized River was not directing the attack at the woman. She was directing it at him. At his head. Her blow would crack his skull. At the very least it would snap his neck bones.
River’s face was twisted with fury and grief.
Talen had no time to react.
But the blow did not land.
The monster rushed forward and, in a lightning strike, caught her ankle. River’s foot stopped a breath away from his face.
The monster twisted her leg, and River fell to the ground.
“Another one,” the hideous woman said. “It looks like we shall raise our army a bit faster than expected. Put her next to the male.”
The monster moved to carry River next to Da.
“Wait!” Talen said. “Wait.”
The woman turned. “Will you serve me?”
“Boy,” said Uncle Argoth. He made a small movement with his hand indicating Talen should come close. In his hand, close to his leg, he held a stone.
Why did they want to kill him?
The answer came: they believed they couldn’t fight this creature. They didn’t have the power.
But he was something else. “A body,” River had said, “can only accept so much Fire at once.” He had poured forth Fire that would easily kill ten men. He could pour forth a flood. He had been bred to it. And he’d been given one tiny flaw.
No, they couldn’t fight the woman. But perhaps he could.
Yes, he could. He didn’t have much of a chance. But something was better than nothing at all.
Argoth beckoned. Talen looked again at the stone in his Uncle’s hand. Even if he could get close to Argoth, the monster would be watching. It would foil Uncle Argoth as it had River.
He knew what they wanted—they wanted the woman’s tool destroyed. But his plan could do that. He might not be a victor. But he could fight despite his limitations. And he would do it in a way that would put the woman on her heels.
The monster still held River’s ankle as if she were some child’s toy.
Talen stepped around them, toward the woman. “I choose to serve you.”
Her pleasure rushed through him; it washed him from heel to crown, an ecstasy like he’d never experienced. His