Jarrett nodded.
"Filthy creatures. I hate them. Therefore, I kill them if they dare to step foot on my home." The Keeper picked at his teeth with his long pinky nail. The rest were bitten down to stubs.
"That's all?" Jarrett asked, waves of sickness crashing over his stomach.
"Aren't they ugly? But their flesh tastes so good." The Keeper smacked his lips together. "Stump, go now. Collect the dead man. We shall feast tonight!"
Stump nodded and took his leave down the dark tunnel.
Jarrett struggled to sit up. "I want no part of this." Using the little strength he had left, he lunged at the Keeper. Instead of landing on the Keeper, Jarrett hung suspended in the air. He floated, his hands grasping and reaching for the little man. "What is this?"
"Magic," the Keeper said. "Something you've always wanted to learn. I will teach you. But if you kill me, you will die with me, for I hold your soul in my hand." He opened his other hand. An orb shone in his palm, beating with life, shining with goodness. "You will do as I command, and you will learn to like it."
"No," Jarrett said. He fell back to his pillows, released by the Keeper. "I will fight you."
"You will not," the Keeper said. "You do not have the strength. Soon your will to fight will fade. You will sit at my feet, lick the jam from between my toes, and beg for my love and tender guidance."
"Never," Jarrett said. He knew he didn't mean it, though. Already the change was happening. He wanted to learn. He wanted the power. He wanted to force the dragons, who had ruled over him his entire life, to bow down to him. When Jacinda would overpower him with her dragon strength, he found it arousing. Now he wanted to kill her for it. If only she would step foot on his island...
The Keeper chuckled. "Already your thoughts are bending to my will. You are uniquely suited to this life. Most would not be so," he paused, "eager."
They sat in silence for what seemed an eternity until Stump returned with Malachi's body. "Brains," it said with a stony smile.
"Thank you, my pet." The Keeper laid one of the pieces of brain between his lips and sucked. "Ah, sustenance. Would you like some?" he asked Jarrett. "I don't want to be rude."
Jarrett's stomach turned. He shook his head no, but found his hands eagerly reaching for the dead man's brains.
"They're good," the Keeper said, munching. "You'll like them."
Jarrett's hands brought the brains to his mouth. He fought against himself, his lips pursed together. No, no, no, he thought. His mouth opened, his tongue snaked out. His lips wrapped around the brain and pulled it into his mouth. Despite the nausea in his throat, he chewed and swallowed.
Soft.
Sweet.
Slimy.
It was the most delectable thing he'd ever tasted.
Jarrett gazed at the Keeper. "You were right. They are amazing."
"You will eat the liver, too." The Keeper took a knife and slit Malachi's chest open. His innards spilled onto the floor. "Stump, get the liver for Jarrett."
The golem reached down with his stone hands, grasping the slippery brown organ.
"The liver collects all of the vile fluids in our bodies and holds them. It's the most toxic and the most delicious part of the body. Try, try."
Stump held out the liver to Jarrett. He took it and sunk his teeth in, sucking out the insides. Human nectar dripped down his chin, landing in droplets on his clothes.
"You are mine," the Keeper hissed, a smile on his face. "You are mine forever, and I will train you in all the magical arts. Then I will die, and you will become the new Keeper."
A woman flashed in Jarrett's mind. Dark brown hair. Sturdy build. A smile that could melt hearts. Then her eyes flickered red, slit like a dragon’s. Jarrett looked up at his new master. "I will do your bidding. But, tell me, is there a way to lure dragons to the island instead of waiting for them to come to us?"
Chapter Eighteen
Back in the Ruins of Ebon, Tressa sank down on a chair. Fi and several other men and women Tressa hadn’t yet met gathered around the table. Granna stood at the head. When everyone was seated, she too took her seat.
"We must prepare for battle. Jacinda's son, Destrian, will head home and muster an army."
Fi punched the table. "Why did you let him go? We could have ended it instead of preparing for a war with the Yellow." She shifted in her seat, clearly agitated.
The woman next to Fi put an arm around her shoulders. Fi leaned in, resting her head on the woman's shoulders. So that must be Sarah. She was beautiful, a perfect match for Fi’s quirkiness.
"Sarah, do you have an opinion?" Granna asked.