He jogged to the end of the lane, to circle between the mud-man and the woods, then hopped up and swung his legs over the rail fence. He stretched his shoulders and shook out his right arm, trying to work out the soreness and knots, and drew his knife. The morning air was heavy with moisture, gray on the ground, lilac and pale pink rising to turquoise in the sky beyond the tree line. The grass was wet from the rain, beaded droplets glimmering like scattered silver, and the saturated soil squelched under his boots. He weaved around a few sodden cow flops and eased toward the mud-man. Aptly named—the creature was filthy, smeared with dung, hair matted and falling in its eyes, and it whiffed of nascent rot. Its flesh was already starting to lose tone and color, the skin mottled and yellowish. Its lips drew back as it snarled at Dag and froze, undecided between attack and flight.

Jump me, you clumsy suffering nightmare. Spare me the sweat of chasing you down. “Come along,” Dag crooned, crouching a little and bringing his arms in. “End this. I’ll get you out of there, I promise.”

The creature’s hips wriggled as it leaned forward, and Dag braced himself as it sprang. He almost missed his move as it stumbled on the lunge, hands pawing the air, neck twisting and straining in a vain attempt to bring its all-too-human jaw to Dag’s neck. Dag blocked one black-clawed hand with his left arm, spun sideways, and slashed hard.

He jumped back as hot blood spurted from the creature’s neck, trying to save himself more laundry duty. The mud-man managed three steps away, yowling wordlessly, before it fell to the mucky ground. Dag circled in cautiously, but no further mercy cut was required; the mud-man shuddered and grew still, eyes glazed and half-open. A tuft of dirty wool, stuck to its lips, stopped fluttering. Absent gods, this is an ugly cleanup chore. But neatly enough done, this time. He wiped his blade on the grass, making plans to beg a dry rag from the farmwife in a moment.

He stood up and turned to see the farm men, huddled in a terrified knot clutching their tools, staring at him openmouthed. Tad came running from the fence and was caught around the waist by his father as he attempted to approach the corpse. “I told you to stay back!”

“It’s dead, Pa!” Tad wriggled free and gazed up with a glowing face at Dag. “He just walked right up to it and took it down slick as anything!”