7. STEP TWO: HANDLE UNEXPECTED COMPLICATIONS

Kihrin’s story

The Korthaen Blight

The day of Vol Karoth’s escape

I’d thought the dragons were going to be my biggest problem.

I’d known for years that Vol Karoth maintained a link with the monsters. Indeed, ever since the Old Man1, I’d been under the impression that Vol Karoth shouldered some of the blame for the general state of “absolutely insane” that swirled around most dragons. Then my relationship with Vol Karoth had become, um, more personal, and I’d confirmed that connection firsthand. I was aware of their voices, whispers at the edge of my hearing, hissing and scratching for attention.

If that had been all there was to the situation, I’d have coped. Hell, I’d probably have wrested control away from the more dangerous dragons and forcibly enlisted their help fighting my enemies. But there was a reason, a good one, why I hadn’t done that.

Relos Var. Who was also a dragon.

I knew I couldn’t control Relos Var. And worse, I couldn’t be certain that Relos Var wouldn’t be able to feel it if I tried to exercise control over the other eight dragons. Or, I suppose I should clarify, if I attempted to exert rational, coherent control. Vol Karoth had been whispering into the minds of the dragons for years, even while imprisoned. Those whispers and nudges had only grown worse when Vol Karoth had woken—Rol’amar attacking the lake house in the Manol, for instance, had happened precisely because Vol Karoth had ordered it. Yes, I could absolutely rant and scream and throw god-level temper tantrums all I wanted without raising any suspicions.

The first time I gave a lucid order, though?

I had a terrible suspicion that Relos Var would recognize the truth. Which meant that as much as I wanted to force all the dragons to play nice, it was best to leave them alone. In fact, I shut them out, erecting a mental barricade to guarantee Relos Var couldn’t sense just how deeply “Vol Karoth” had changed.²

If that had been my biggest problem, it all would have been milk and honey. Unfortunately, it was far from it.

I hadn’t yet even physically left the Blight when the real problem presented itself: I became hungry.

This wasn’t a normal hunger. Ola had always done right by me, but I’d had plenty of opportunities during my journey as a slave to become familiar with the feeling of missed meals. I knew what it felt like to be hungry and not know when or if the next meal would happen. There was always a tipping point where the body numbed the sharp edges, settled physical need into a dull stupor. Even if I imagined the hungriest that I’d ever been in my entire life—the feeling like a blade twisting inside my stomach, an animal weakness sweeping back and forth through me like the motion of my fellow rowers in the slave galley, it was nothing compared to what I felt now. This hunger grew stronger, fouler, more heated and painful, an agony burning me with a desperate and ravenous need for sustenance.

I needed to eat. What I needed to eat was less clear. Food wouldn’t solve my problem. In hindsight, it had been naïve to assume that fixing my mental state would do anything to solve the curse that my brother had twisted around my existence. I was Kihrin, yes.

I was also still Vol Karoth.

The pain redoubled its assault, expanding into an agony so powerful I couldn’t move or think or do anything but float midair and scream.

Into that hunger, voices manifested.

You should have listened to us. We would have helped you. We would have shown you how to deal with this. We’ve had to learn ourselves.

I opened my eyes to gaze across the fetid landscape of the Korthaen Blight. Understanding flashed through me, leaving me in a state of terrifying dread. Nothing existed near me. Nothing at all. I had destroyed anything within thirty feet.

I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.³

What will you do now? the voices asked. You can’t return to what you used to be. You’re our child, you know. We made you. You were born of our hunger, our hate.

Shadows lurked at the edges of my vision. Swirling darkness manifested, something other than the remains of my ravenous destruction. The voices were too coherent to be dragons—dragon voices were nearly incomprehensible swirls of chaotic energies. This was a different kind of monster, although still one I recognized.

Demons.

Not just any demons either. These were the princes who had corrupted Relos Var’s second Guardian ritual, the same ones that had turned S’arric from the well-intentioned sun god to the ravenously angry avatar of annihilation. I had become their greatest triumph and their greatest mistake, and wasted no time devouring their demonic tenyé rather than showing anything like gratitude. I’d devoured their tenyé—but I clearly hadn’t devoured them. Rather, I’d kept these demons imprisoned in a manner not too dissimilar to the mindscape where I’d imprisoned myself. Or … where Vol Karoth had imprisoned himself. Something like that. As that prison had shattered, evidently this one had too.

Which meant everyone was free.

“You have no tenyé,” I reminded them. “No power. You’re nothing but ghosts.”

Then why haven’t you destroyed us?

That question sparked a realization so painfully obvious that it slammed into me with all the force of blunt fact: they thought I was one of them. A demon. I suppose that made sense given the whole King of Demons title and the way they’d tried to claim me as their own, but they were mistaken. If I had ended up as a demon, I’d probably be in a better position to heal the damage done to me.

Hunger shuddered through my body again. What I’d absorbed from my surroundings hadn’t been enough to sate my appetite.

It hurts, doesn’t it? But there are ways to feed. Fear has so much more energy than you’d think. Pain is good too. And souls … Oh, the energy of souls … We can show you how.

“Shut up,” I snapped.

We’re right here. Don’t you want to satisfy your need?

Why hadn’t I destroyed the demon princes? Laughable. The most obvious answer was because I couldn’t. Or at least, S’arric hadn’t been able to. And even if that hadn’t been the case, we’d been in the middle of a war when all of this had happened. Vol Karoth would have kept these demons prisoner so they could be questioned.

I gazed up at the sky. One of the Three Sisters, Jhyr, hadn’t set yet, even though the red-orange sun was in the sky. That moon remained visible, shimmering through the colors of Tya’s Veil. A lovely sight, but I was more interested in practical applications.

Any of the moons would be a long way from anyone I might hurt by accident.

Traveling there was as easy as a thought. I vanished from one landscape and appeared in another even more desolate. Had I needed to breathe, I’d have suffocated, but fortunately, that hadn’t been necessary for my survival for a long time indeed. Above my head, the blue-and-white swirls of the planet on which I—Kihrin, to be specific—had been born glowed vibrantly. The rest of the sky lay black and lush under the shining caress of stars.

This was one of the moons, one of the Three Sisters. It never had and never would support life, which at this moment was exactly what I wanted. Nothing I did here would hurt anyone but myself.

On the other hand, nothing I did here would improve my situation either.

I bent over and picked up a rock, concentrating on it.

Bits of it began to flake away, in spite of all my efforts to keep the rock intact and whole. Fuck.

You’ll hide? Surely all those centuries locked away haven’t made you so weak.

“Oh, that’s quite enough from you lot. Try me and find out just how easy it would be to destroy you.”

If you were going to, you’d have done it by now. Could it be that you need us?

I paused to give the question serious consideration. I didn’t want to believe that was the case, but I wouldn’t dismiss the idea unexamined either. Giant swaths of memory lay buried, still too painful to be resurrected and dragged into daylight. The demons lived in those lands. So it was possible that I might have some lingering attachment, a desire for anyone who might give what I suffered some meaning.

“I still want to know why your people did all this,” I murmured. “Why invade? Why attack us? We were no threat to you. We’d done nothing to you.”

Done nothing? Done everything! How quickly you forget. You abandoned us. You left us to die in a universe grown sepulchral and cold.

My response was swallowed as I gritted my teeth in pain. Despite my best efforts, a circle of disintegrating rock slowly ate away at reality in a rapidly expanding sphere around me. I felt the rush of tenyé as the energy released slammed inward.

But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

So yeah. No doubt about it.

This was a problem.