“I…I…” Typhus tries to stall, until the confession is yanked from his lips. “I spent the last century and a half coming up with ways to manipulate fairies out of their powers, using whatever means I could. I—I did this so I could stay healthy and strong in this place. I trade magic for my protection even though I’m the worst thing fae have to fear out here.” He takes a breath. “I’ve killed hundreds, maybe thousands of fairies—some outright, and some indirectly after I drained them of too much magic. I have a hidden room filled with countless fairies who are all but dead.” An unbidden shiver
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