sound of despair left the King of the Underworld, but he cut it off as if he’d had no control over the making of it. He stood and turned toward me, his tentacles raised threateningly behind him. My eyes were drawn to the head he cradled against his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world to him. She stared at me with wide, lifeless eyes glazed a milky white. Her features were feminine and delicate, with the same lines around her mouth that he had. I saw nothing of the monster we’d buried. I realized now why the town burned, why he’d slaughtered everyone. He was the same as any
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