Vix felt her bones turn to water at the sight of him. He was every bit as terrifying as she remembered – looming, unnatural, skull-faced with mad orange eyes.
But rage soon overpowered her fear. “Murderer!” she screamed. Vix scrambled to her feet, half-wanting to rush at the Riverman, though she was weaponless.
The Riverman flicked his hand into his coat, fast as blinking. When it reemerged, it held a pistol, pointed straight at Vix’s heart. She stopped before she had taken a step.
“You’re a very fortunate girl.” The familiar rasping, metallic whine accompanied the Riverman’s voice, overlayed with his words. Vix felt her teeth clench with each syllable, until she felt they would shatter like glass.
The Riverman’s eyes were just as horrible as she remembered. His multitude of firefly pupils, ever moving and dancing, readjusted themselves into groups. They seemed to glance down at the body of Tala behind Vix. “You ought to be dead, not her.”