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My eyes widen at the reveal. “One appeared to her?” I clarify.

“He did more than that. He promised her revenge if she lay with him. Thus I was conceived.”

It takes some effort not to allow my mouth to drop open. “Your father was a literal demon?”

“Yes. I was to be her means of finally taking revenge on the late Shadow King, and for the longest time, I believed that was all I was good for. Those early years were… terrible.”

“Tell me,” I encourage.

“I could not control the shift. I was always hungry. I preyed on the local livestock in Dimyros—a small city in Estetia—and when thefarmers or other townsfolk saw me in my true form, I had to dispatch them.”

He pauses here, as though waiting for another reaction. Obviously, one doesn’t come.

I ask, “Why did you end up joining the army?”

“It was my mother’s idea. She thought it would hone my killing skills, and I wanted so desperately to please her. When I was fully grown, I was to battle through dozens of soldiers, swarm the palace at Naxos, and kill the Shadow King.”

“But the king died,” I say.

Rebels were led into the palace by the late king’s own son Xanthos Maheras, after the king beat the boy nearly to death for not having the power of the shadows.

“I know,” Eryx says. “When my mother heard the news of the king’s death, she stopped everything. Stopped eating or bathing or caring about anything. She lost her entire purpose for existing. Her entire purpose for me. She let herself die once there was nothing more for her to do in this life.

“I wonder sometimes if that devil knew what would happen. If he knew that the king would die before my mother got the chance to unleash me on him. If he fed off first her need for vengeance, and then her suffering once the king died by other means.”

“Has he ever appeared to you?” I ask. “The devil who sired you?”

“No. He probably has to wait another thousand years before he can build up the strength to appear in our world again. I don’t think or care about him, except that he cost me my mother. He stoked the flames of her anger, led her to the death she fell into.”

A breeze blows across the lake, and a strand of Eryx’s hair falls free from the gel. He reaches up to stroke it back into place.

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly.

“My mother made her choices.”

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt you. Whether your mother was kind or not, that doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.” I reach out and grip his hand in one of mine. He squeezes back.

“I wonder if I would have let her have her way. Would I have done her bidding and killed the late Shadow King for her? I would have been caught or killed, whether in the attempt or after. Her plans were not subtle. She knew that. She didn’t care. I wasn’t a son. I was a gift from a demon for her to control. I’ve come to terms with that.

“I made friends in the army. I had a life outside of what she wanted for me. I was relieved when she passed. I found my own purpose.”

“And what was that?”

He hesitates before answering, “My own vengeance.”

“Against the general?” I ask.

“And others. Men who’ve wronged me.”

“I saw your list. There’s still one name on it, assuming you handled Barlas.”

“I handled Barlas. Argus left an anonymous tip with the constabulary. They’ll find the general’s half-buried body on his property, as well as the murder weapon in Barlas’s study.”

“Good,” I manage. He deserves to spend the rest of his life in prison, if the king doesn’t kill him. “And the last name?”

Eryx looks down at the water. “The Shadow King is the reason good men died. He persists in his search for power, risking lives other than his own. I lost more friends than I saved.”

I think carefully before answering. “It was a job, Eryx. They were paid for their services.”