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The Green Man’s eyes light. “Ah, Karnon. That mad, clever king was my greatest conquest yet. To slip into a skin not yet dead… It was effortful, to say the least.”

My flesh crawls. How could I not have noticed before the lingeringwrongnessof this man?

“But, as you saw, living bodies have their drawbacks. I fought with his mind for dominance, and I didn’t always win.”

Karnon’s split personality! The mad king had still been in there when this body snatcher took it over.

But…how?

The Green Man continues talking, unaware of my thoughts. “That animal made you in his likeness to escape me. He sought an end to his life by provoking the King of the Night, and what better way to do so than to harm the Night King’s mate?”

I’ve hiked up almost my entire skirt. So close to my daggers.

“Whatareyou?” I ask.

For one second, his body morphs. Inky-black hair and eyes replace the Green Man’s more vibrant ones. His skin pales, his features turning sinister.

Those upturned eyes, that pouty mouth and plaited hair. I’ve seen that face before! It’s the dark-haired man from my most recent nightmare.

“What is a body really?” he says. “Something that constrains you, something that perishes.”

The image dissipates, and he’s the Green Man once more.

“I have a thousand eyes and even more souls. I am what happens when even darkness dies. Look at me and see the truth.”

I do look at him. I can’t bear to take my eyes off him. This is the man who has hidden thousands of soldiers and raped thousands more.

The Thief of Souls.

Chapter 51

I desperately grasp one of my daggers. The metal zings as I pull it out of my thigh holster.

He smiles at the sight. “Come now, Callypso. Have I not just warned you that killing me is pointless?”

“Stay away from me,” I hiss at him, lifting the weapon.

“Alas, I cannot. You, my sweet, have presented me with a unique problem.” He rubs his lower jaw as he talks. “A prophecy demands you must die in order for me to get what I want, but if you do, you are beyond my reach.”

Above us, the sky quakes as my mate battles with his father.

“What is it you want?”

He grins again, the sight unsettling. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Ask yourself this: Why would a thief such as me steal as many soldiers as I have?”

That’s one of the many things I could never figure out about this mystery.

“Think on it, enchantress.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Would you preferslave?” he asks. “Personally, I think you seem ill-suited to the title, but if that’s what you desire…”

I begin to back up. “I don’t understand—what does Galleghar have to do with any of this?” I ask. Even now, the sky thunders with the sounds of father and son.

The Thief of Souls smiles. “There’s an old prophetess who can answer that question—for a price. One way or another, you’ll figure it out.”

I fight the next question on my lips. I know it’s no use asking; no answer will be good enough. But I ask anyway. “Why are you doing this?”