Part 65 (2/2)

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 G.o.ds. Not a benefactor. It was as if a huge blast of cold wind had just awakened him. His mind had been fuggy, 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 t.i.tle 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: 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 eye-blink she sped 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 dodged 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, if it didn't crack his skull, would, at the very least, snap his neck bones.

River's face was twisted with fury and grief.

Talen had no time to react, but the monster did. It rushed forward in a lightning strike and caught her ankle, stopping River's foot a breath away from his face.

The monster twisted her leg, sending her to the ground.

”So unruly a breed,” 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,” Uncle Argoth called. In his hand, close to his leg, he held a stone.

Talen knew what Uncle Argoth wanted to do. Knew he could take Talen out of the woman's grasp, but he couldn't move towards him. And he could not resist the woman's question.

Talen looked back at her. ”Yes, I will serve you,” he said, even though down deep in his bones the answer was no.

Her pleasure rushed through him; it washed him from heel to crown, an ecstasy like he'd never experienced. How could he want to serve this wicked thing so desperately?

”You will have your heart's desires,” the woman said. But he knew she lied. She wasn't going to save Da. She wasn't going to spare River. He'd seen her for what she was. But he didn't care.

”No!” shouted Argoth. ”No good can come from this. You cannot lie with sheep and sire men.”

”Hunger,” the woman commanded.

The monster grabbed River. Her lovely eyes were full of grief and dismay.

”I love you, sister,” he said. ”I will see you in brightness.”

Her face fell.

Talen wanted to resist, but he couldn't.

”No,” said Uncle Argoth, but the heat was gone from his voice.

The living light about the woman reached out to Talen to caress him. ”In the end,” she said, ”they will see your wisdom and thank you. Now we must hollow you so that we may repair what was done. Hunger, come.”

The monster took River back to the wall and chained her with double the chains. When it was finished, it turned to face Talen.

The Mother spoke into Hunger's mind. ”As soon as we have the one bred to be the overseer in our control, you will take the others and quicken your brethren.”

”Yes,” he said, and his heart fell. Hunger had done all she had commanded. He had kept his part of the bargain. But she had just lied to the boy. And if she lied to her overseer, why would she ever keep her word to him, a thing destined for the devouring?

But what could he do? He could not fight her.

In anger, he reached forward and took the boy by the throat.

Talen was not a monster. He was not! And yet his desires told another story. The monster's rough and stony hand closed round his neck, and then something probed along the seams of Talen's being.

Reflexively he closed himself, just as River had taught him.

The monster readjusted its grip and probed again, nipping and biting all about him.

Talen held himself tighter, felt the monster's frustration.

”Open yourself,” the woman crooned.

She sounded like River had that night when he'd almost died. Open yourself, close yourself. Open, close. A wave of desire washed over Talen, but he held tight to the thought of River.

The monster caught a snag.

The scene back at the house came to his mind. ”A body,” River had said, ”can only accept so much Fire at once.”

The words reverberated in him: a body could only accept so much Fire at once.

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