Skul Drek said nothing, but turned away, looking off into the darkness where his battered, splitting rope faded.

“Our desires align,” I said. “We could help each other. The king finding the Wanderer’s bones frightens you. Why? What would happen?”

Hot, crimson eyes locked with mine. Teeth clicked. A low rumble of a growl rattled from somewhere in his cloak of shadows. “The power of all. A new Wanderer, a lord over the lands. All the gods’ power would once more belong to one. A soul to corrupt, a soul to enslave, a soul to rule all.”

“Because soul bones from the Wanderer would have every vein of craft. Is that why? He was the last to have all three. Only melding had to be shown to him, a craft used for greed.”

Skul Drek hummed his agreement.

I faced another hooked claw, watching my fingers meld the golden hook to the gleam of Hundur’s form. “I don’t want Damir to have all the power. I want to be free. Perhaps you do, too, from whatever curse keeps you killing for the sake of soul bones.”

Half of Skul Drek’s face was hidden in darkness, like a mask of night, but his eyes flashed like he might’ve grinned. “You brighten the night, Melder.” A coil of shadows flicked the golden band between our hearts.

He spoke in riddles, but there was meaning underneath it all. I simply needed to discover it.

Another step closer. I could breathe in the salt and chill of his skin beneath the darkness. “I want to help. I don’t want any more deaths. I don’t want to die.”

Copper red deepened in his eyes. A coil of darkness wrapped around my throat, not enough to choke off air, but enough I could not move. I wasn’t certain I wanted to.

“Once you know, you cannot unknow. I speak the truth to you, then you cannot betray it.” His shadowed mouth brushed across my ear. I held my breath. “Or I will find you; I will end you. I will not be able to stop.”

“I want to know.”

Without a word, Skul Drek stepped back and sat atop a heap of darkness that could’ve been a mirrored chair or windowsill.

“The first king lies in places unseen.”

“Places?”

“Four.” Skul Drek spoke clearer, firmer. As though I were speaking to a simple man and not some spectral of a killer. “Four pieces to make the bearer the gods’ ruler of their craft. The arm, to swing the sword as the first king. The ribs, to wear his armor. The breast, to have his warrior’s heart. And the skull, to claim his wisdom.”

I pressed a hand to my stomach, ignoring the final two fingers of Hundur, and knelt in front of Skul Drek. “Are the bones of the Wanderer all here in Stonegate?”