It was one thing to think that you could make a bargain with a monster when it lay dead and still, another to face it, all muscles and teeth and rippling primal hunger.

“Mahlia?” A whisper from behind. Mouse.

Mahlia tried to answer, but her voice was missing. She tried again. “I’m fine,” she croaked.

“No,” the half-man growled. “You are nothing.”

For a second Mahlia thought the monster was about to tear her apart, but then it straightened and turned away, as if it was dismissing her entirely.

Mahlia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The monster was shambling toward the water, stiff at first, then faster, even if it was limping. Mahlia couldn’t help but feel a prickle of awe at the sight of the wounded monster, now almost fully healed. Nothing should have been able to survive so much abuse, and yet the half-man stood strong.

It reached the water’s edge and crouched. Lowered its face to the brackish slime.

“That’s salty,” Mahlia called out, but the monster drank anyway.

Mahlia expected it to lap at the water like a dog, but it drank like a human being. When it finished, it glanced at her with a brief flash of a superior smile. “My kind tolerates impurities better than your sort,” it said. “We are better than you, in all ways.”

The half-man started to straighten, but then it sank to its knees. Its eye widened with surprise as it caught itself. It growled, and then forced its legs under it. Staggered upright once more. It was big, but still, it was weak.

Something about the moment of vulnerability pleased Mahlia. The half-man wasn’t unstoppable. It might be strong, but it had its weaknesses, too.

The monster limped around the edge of the swamp pool.

“What the—” Mouse started to ask, but Mahlia already guessed what it was doing. The corpse of the alligator still lay in the water, bloating and torn. The half-man waded slowly into the reeds and seized it. Dragged the body onto the bank, grunting and growling with the effort.

With a low snarl, the half-man tore open the alligator’s belly. It dipped into the reptile’s entrails and began to feed, unbothered by the miasma of carrion.

The half-man looked up at them and bared its teeth. “My kill,” it growled, and then it plunged an arm deep into the alligator. Came up with the heart. “Mine.” It bit into the red muscle. Gulping it down.

“Damn, that’s nasty,” Mouse said.

Mahlia’s stomach churned in agreement. Watching something that looked so nearly like a human being feed like a beast—it wasn’t natural, and it filled Mahlia with queasy dread.

What was this thing that she had persuaded them to save?