Page 241

Not together.

One whispers first. “Choose.”

Another repeats it from somewhere inside its chest. “Choose.”

Then another.

And another.

The word spreads through the thing until hundreds of stolen mouths are whispering over one another.

Some sound like women.

Some like men.

Some like children.

Some don’t sound human anymore.

Choose.

Choose.

Choose.

The human heart beats faster.

The knife drips onto the floor.

The red ribbon slowly uncurls from the tiny hand.

Then every mouth opens at once.

“CHOOSE.”

The force of it blows out every candle in the barn.

I look between Mercy and the thing that has kept her imprisoned for centuries. And I understand. It thinks choice means choosing from what it offers.

That’s the trick.

Every ritual. Every tradition. Every bargain.

Choose the cup. Choose the mask. Choose the Hunt. Choose the Sower. Choose your cage.

I smile. “No.”

The creature shudders. The mouths whisper. CHOOSE.

“I am.” I grab Mercy’s wrist. “I choose her.”

The Harvest screams and every window on Ward Farm explodes.

The roots release me and I hit the floor.

Mercy collapses beside me.

The creature recoils.