When Wanhope’s vision returned, the wild men’s charge had faltered and broken. There was a man standing where Udrik had been and every eye was on him. He was easily seven feet tall, with hair of molten gold falling to the nape of his neck. Though his skin was the color of polished silver, it wasn’t shiny or artificial. His eyes were an arresting emerald of a shade barely within human possibility. Perhaps one man in a million had such eyes. Perhaps mimicking Wanhope, he too was bare-chested, though his body was lean and angular. He was the most beautiful man Wanhope had ever seen.

The arcanghulus laughed, and even his laughter was beautiful. “We’re Strangers, Godking, not monsters.”

“What is your name?” Wanhope asked.

“I am Ba’elzebaen, the Lord of Serpents.”

“Awfully cold in the Freeze for a snake.”

“I’m not in the Freeze any more, am I?”

“I would have you serve me, Ba’elzebaen,” Wanhope said. He desperately wanted to look at Ba’elzebaen as he was, but he didn’t dare. If he lost himself to madness now, Ba’elzebaen might take Dorian’s body instead of Udrik’s.

The Stranger chuckled. “And I would have the sun and moon bow down to me.”

“But one of these things will happen.”

Ba’elzebaen laughed as if at a precocious child. “I am stronger than you.”

“It is only the will and the call that matters. I have called you, and my will is implacable.” The stunning green eyes locked onto his, and Dorian had only to think of how Jenine would be taken if he didn’t compel this snake. He felt the arcanghulus’s will rise against him, higher and higher. Ba’elzebaen was ever so much more than this body before Dorian. He was immortal, omnipotent, there was nothing Dorian could do to stop him. It was hopeless. He should bow and beg for mercy.

Dorian knew that this was the arcanghulus’s attack, and he held onto what he knew. The arcanghulus would obey, would bow, would serve. I am Godking. I am implacable. I will destroy those who challenge me. I will not serve. I am a god.

Ba’elzebaen relaxed and the attacks stopped. “Very well, Godking, I will serve you.”

“Where is my half-brother Moburu?”

“He attempted to take over the ten tribes. He failed. Only one tribe joined him, but he did take enough bones to raise a legion of krul. He’s heading for Black Barrow.” A legion was about two thousand krul. It wasn’t good, but it was far better than facing Moburu at the head of this army. “But it isn’t Moburu you have to worry about.”

“Neph,” Dorian said, his suspicions confirmed.

“Yes. Neph is the one who taught the wild men to raise krul. All this was nothing more than a diversion to keep any Ursuul away from Black Barrow.”

“What’s he trying?”