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It will make killing him interesting.

As soon as the dead’s hold loosens on me, I rise to the surface once more, just in time to see Euribios wading towards me, uncaring of the hands that grab at him. Curiosity and want war for dominance on his features. This is a creature who will take and take and take.

The spirits yank at me, redoubling their efforts, and it’s a struggle to keep my head above water.

“So defiant,” the Thief says, drinking me in, his eyes shining brightly, “even now when you know fighting is hopeless.”

I don’t know whether he’s referring to the ghosts pulling me down, or the more general problem of me being his captive.

My lips slip beneath the surface once more.

Euribios grabs my shoulders. “Let me help you,” he says, and I think for a moment he’s going to draw me up.

But then—

“I anoint you in the waters of the dead.”

I don’t have time to suck in air before he plunges me down into the depths of this pool.

Beneath the surface, a thousand different souls howl, their faded magic sparking against my skin.

He holds us prisoner.

Centuries of unrest.

Never ending.

The spirits drag me down deeper and deeper into the dark waters.

Need our tithe.

Give him to us.

They claw at my glowing skin.

“I am going to kill him,” I say into that cursed water. My voice rings true and clear, lilting eerily in the water.

I sense something sweep through the dead then, something besides their hunger and fury.

Excitement.

Their hold loosens on me just a bit.

Give him to us, they repeat.

The siren in me smiles.

“I will.”

Euribios jerks meto the surface once more. “Rise, my consort,” he says.

I’m shaken. Deep in those depths I heard the dead and I felt them. All those who passed during the centuries he’s ruled here; they’re not supposed to be languishing here in this tiny pool.

The defunct ship I saw earlier now comes to mind. The vessel sits unused at the castle’s dock, and beyond it, an entire ocean awaits. But the captain or ferryman or whoever moves souls on is no longer doing so, and the fae who have died are now suffering for it.

This must end.

The spirits have released me, but the Thief’s hands are still on my skin, his eyes following his touch. The human in me wants to pull away from him, but the siren beckons him closer.