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He’s dominated others for so long that he can’t possibly recognize the position he’s now in.

“I will enjoy paying you back for this—” he vows.

“You willnotthreaten me,” I say. “Nor will you use any of your magic on me or anyone else. Right now, you arepowerless.”

The Death King’s mouth curves up. “I willneverbe powerless, enchantress,” he says, wading through the souls to get to me, still resisting my earlier command. He doesn’t look frightened—I don’t think the Thief even knows what fear is; he’s never had to fear a thing in his life.

As he moves towards me he begins murmuring. His oily magic stirs, and I sense him redrawing his ward.

Too late, Death King.

“Drown,” I say, my voice hypnotic.

The Thief barks out a laugh, interrupting his work. “You cannot kill me—”

“I can dowhateverit is I want. So come closer,” I say, moving out into deeper water, souls slipping past me. “Find me beneath the waves. Feel my watery kiss. Drown in my arms. Die for me, my undying king.”

Sinister. Seductive. Even death is tempting when a siren delivers it sweetly.

The Thief continues to wade towards me, only now, his torso is beginning to disappear beneath the water’s surface.

“I cannot die.”

“Yes,” I breathe, “you can.”

I move to the middle of the pool, feeling my magic in my veins and in the water. Euribios’s eyes are locked on mine, longing shining bright in them. The water has nearly reached his shoulders. He begins murmuring once more.

“Meet me down in the water’s depths,” I say, coaxing,coaxing. “There’s nothing to fear. Breathe it in. Drown.”

My words strike like an anvil.

The Thief’s breath catches, and a spark of something enters his eyes; it’s not fear, he’s too alien a creature for that; shock, maybe—or betrayal.

Or maybe it’s that, for all his dealings with death, this eternal thing can’t conceive of it happening to him.

And now it is.

Whatever ward he’s been casting, it sits in the air unfinished, and it’s not clear that it would be useful at this point anyway. My eyes, my body, my magic—everything that I am beckons to him.

Join us down below.

It doesn’t matter that he’s a god and I’m not, nor does it matter that my power is infinitesimal next to his. I promise a dream, a beautiful, deadly dream, and what is more powerful than that? Dreams, desire—whatwouldn’tyou do to have what you most want?

I slip beneath the lapping surface. All around me howling, phantom things grab and claw at the Thief.

They hadn’t harmed me—I hadn’t even thought they were capable of it—but they’re harming Euribios, his skin splitting open, his blood looking like ink in the water before his skin heals over.

“Drown, drown,drown.” Even down here I whisper it.

The waterline climbs up his neck, then his jaw.

I don’t know whether he sinks the rest of the way himself, or if he stops fighting against the powers pulling at him, but all at once, his head sinks below the surface.

“Drown.”

The Thief—Euribios—opens his mouth and draws in water.

That’s all it takes for the spirits to swarm him, descending on the god like ravenous beasts. If I thought they were hurting him before, it’s nothing compared to their onslaught now. I see muscle and bone as they tear into him.