Jurl gave a surly grunt before he returned to gobbling the grub soup.
Gideon said to her, “Eat.”
“You first,” she said.
He sniffed the thick, shiny, gray broth filling his spoon and evidently decided that inhaling was a mistake. Looking like he was holding his breath now, he took a sip. “It’s… fine.”
She knew he was lying, but Chandra used her spoon to scoop up a boiled grub. Gideon was right on one thing. It was meat. She needed strength. Summoning her will, she put it in her mouth and chewed on the rubbery morsel.
Falia re-entered the hut, carrying a clay pitcher and two cups. “Are you enjoying the soup?”
“It’s excellent.” Gideon took a big spoonful.
Falia smiled. “Good!”
“We have some questions, Falia,” Gideon said. “Eat first,” Falia said. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Of course.” Gideon nodded.
Chandra steeled her resolve and ate some more grub worms, washing them down with a generous quantity of water. Since Gideon was sipping the broth without expiring on the spot, she consumed some of it, too. The texture was disgusting, and the flavor could best be described as aquatic. She wondered what the grubs might have grown into.
The thought nearly made her gag, so she tried to empty her mind, and continued eating in silence-all while Jurl kept eating in noisy, voracious gulps.
The goblin finished his meal first. He gave a satisfied sigh, and shifted his position so that he could lean against the wall of the hut. After a few minutes, he fell into a peaceful doze. Chandra knew this because he snored.
When she could endure no more of the grub soup, Chandra set her bowl aside and looked at Falia, intending to thank her. That was when she realized that the girl was staring at Gideon again-this time, with a look that could only be longing.
From what Chandra had seen, there were few men in the village. Undoubtedly, Falia was evaluating Gideon’s fitness as a mate. Though seemingly young for it, Falia clearly was ready for marriage. Chandra realized abruptly that the girl could well be several years older than she looked. Who knew what effects this blood ritual for the passing of wisdom had on an individual, to say nothing of her diet.
Even supposing that Falia was the same age at which girls on Chandra’s native plane typically married, it was unsettling to see how she looked at Gideon.
Chandra wondered whether he was aware of her keen interest in him. Gideon simply ate, his gaze lowered all the while on the food. If he was aware of the girl’s perusal, he didn’t acknowledge or return it.
When he finished eating, he set aside his bowl, and thanked Falia, who seemed to awaken from a trance.
She smiled. “Now what have you come here to ask me?”
“Has it always been nighttime on Diraden?” Gideon asked. “Forever?”
“Ah.” She nodded. “You’ve come to ask about Prince Velrav’s rule.”
“Yes. Did the endless night begin with him?”
“It did.”
“What happened?”
“When my grandmother was a child,” Falia said, “there was day and night here. King Gelidor ruled Diraden. He had three sons. The youngest, Prince Velrav, was wild and dissolute.”
The girl was a good storyteller, and the tale flowed smoothly, but the heart of the story was simple. The young Prince Velrav had engaged in various scandalous and destructive indulgences until his father banished him from castle and court.
Furious over his exile, and more ambitious and vengeful than anyone had ever guessed, Prince Velrav studied black magic and consorted with the darkest blood demons of the realm to plot against his father.
“You tell the story well,” Chandra said when Falia paused.
“Thank you,” said Falia, smiling at Gideon as if he had delivered the compliment.
Jurl snored peacefully as the girl continued her story.
“When he felt ready to carry out his nefarious plan, Velrav returned to his father’s castle. He presented himself as a humbled, penitent son, reformed in his ways and seeking forgiveness. The king welcomed home his wayward son, and never thought to protect himself from him.”
“Which was evidently a mistake?” said Chandra.
Falia nodded. “In the dead of night, while the whole castle slept, the prince crept into his two brothers’ bed chambers and murdered them both, along with their wives. Then he went into the nursery and slaughtered the three children whom his brothers had sired.”
“He slaughtered the children?” Chandra repeated.
“Then he went to his parents’ chamber,” Falia said, “where he beheaded his mother with one heavy blow of his sword.”
“He killed his mother?” Chandra blurted.
“He’s very wicked,” the girl said prosaically.
“He beheaded her,” Gideon mused. “Interesting.”
“It’s not interesting” Chandra said. “It’s disgusting! His own mother!”
“And then he murdered the king?” Gideon asked.
“No.” Falia shook her head. “He fed on the king.”
“He ate his father?” The grub soup churned unpleasantly in Chandra’s stomach.
“No, he fed on him,” Falia said.
Chandra said, “What’s the diff-”
“And that didn’t kill the king?” Gideon asked.
“It might have, of course,” the girl said. “But he also fed the king of himself.”
“Fed him of himself?” Chandra said with a frown. “What does that mean?”
Gideon asked, “Is the king still alive?”
“Of course not,” Chandra said dismissively. “This happened when Falia’s grandmother was a child.” A man who’d had grown sons and grandchildren that long ago wouldn’t still be alive now.