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He moved on to stroke the next finger. “He wasn’t you, but it was the first time I felt I was the only thing in anyone’s world that mattered. I never felt like that with you. I tried to trick myself into believing it, but something else was always more important.” He snorted derisively. “And yet I didn’t mind. But with Lysander…”

Absolon cracked his neck and continued. “He took me with him. We found a place to stay and I thought I was happy. I tried to put you behind me, but every now and then he would stoke those fires with his jealousy. He thought I deserved revenge, and it didn’t take much for me to agree. I wanted to seek you out, but he said there were better paths to revenge, especially ones where I was assured victory.”

All movement ceased and Ragnar’s heart held.

“He revealed himself. As he truly was. His body glowed beneath the light of the moon like an angel. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought I’d gone mad, but he told me it was real. That he was special. That he was a thing called a Darisami. It wasn’t until later I learned what that meant.”

Absolon rubbed at his sternum, kneading into his flesh.

“He took me to a dark part of town, where cutthroats abounded, and told me to watch. Soon enough, we were set upon. The knife flashed and stabbed Lysander. I rushed to avenge him, but he ordered me to stop. He withdrew the blade and the wound closed.”

If Absolon spoke true, where was this Lysander now? And how could he find him?

“Lysander said no mortal weapons could hurt him. He said this while he pinned the cutthroat to the wall. He told me he had been alive two hundred years. I said it was impossible, but he pressed his hand against the cutthroat’s chest, no easy feat as he writhed for freedom, stilled for a second then the cutthroat stopped moving. Euphoria swept over Lysander’s features. I didn’t understand what had happened beyond knowing that Lysander had killed the man with his touch.”

Anguish plucked at Absolon’s face. “The body had barely hit the ground before I ran. Lysander caught me in no time and begged me to listen. He said that the Darisami were soul-eaters, and I could be one too. I’d live forever. I’d have strength beyond mortal comprehension. I’d be immune to sickness and disease. I could have everything I ever wanted.” His voice grew agitated and excited as the memories danced across his eyes, lost for a long heartbeat in the moment of his choice.

“I resisted at first, but then I asked why me? He said he was lonely, that he recognized the same wound in me, and he could think of no one better to spend eternity with.” Absolon looked at Ragnar. He shrugged his shoulders. “What else was I meant to do?”

A breath exploded out of Ragnar’s mouth. “What happened?”

“He turned me.” Absolon’s words lost their shine; this was now a soldier’s report of a battle hard won. “He took my soul into his and gave it back to me. Then I was free from mortal constraints, but it left me with a hunger that has to be sated with one human soul every thirty days. One life per month in order to keep on living.”

Surely, it was not possible, and yet Absolon believed it.

“Did he tell you this before he turned you?”

“He did. At least he had the decency to do that. I accepted regardless. I knew what I was getting into even if I didn’t understand it. I have killed as a man and it barely affected me, but this… Knowing I must kill someone every month or else I die… It is not easy. It is not easy at all.”

“When did this happen?”

“About seven months past.”

“Then why did you not come for me sooner?”

“Because Lysander filled everything at that time. My need for revenge had been smothered by his deeds. He no longer angled for me to take your life because he had won me completely. What could you have done to take me from him?”

“So, what happened? Where is he?”

Absolon hung his head. “He grew tired of me. Once the long days of summer passed, his fun was over. With a few harsh words from his scornful tongue, he left, and I have not seen him since.”

“Do you miss him?”

Absolon laughed harshly. “I hate him for what he has done to me and for how he has made me different from other men.”

“You were always different from other men, Sol. Better too.”

“That is no longer true.”

“And what about me?”

Absolon shook his head. “Oh, you were the source of all this. Once I had regained myself and banished my self-pity over yet another person abusing me and my trust, I went in search of you, but you were hard to find. It took me a while, but I found you. I didn’t attack you at first. I wanted to watch. I wanted to draw it out. Lysander taught me that. He did it to me; he did it to his victims.”

He looked ashamed. “I watched you with Åke. I wanted to kill you both in those moments, but I restrained myself. You had replaced me, and it was then that the last buried hope of us ever being together again, of any of your actions being a mistake, shriveled and died. When you returned from that last raid, I struck, and I struck Åke first. You know the rest.”

Ragnar slumped, released from Absolon’s tale. It could all be fancy designed to make him doubt his sanity, but the earnestness in Absolon’s voice, combined with the few displays of his power that he’d seen, made him believe it was not some fantasy. To think that Absolon possessed so much power… Why, if he had it, there would be no stopping him. But how to get it?

“You’re right though.”