XXXII

“Father,” Atlas steps in the middle, grabbing Sigurður’s attention. “Are you done playing with your food?”

His smiles now only focused on his newly turned son. They both stand still while everyone around holds their breath, waiting for their signal. “Do you even know what to do?”

“I’ve been studying you. Watching the disgusting things you do. Watching your blood-soaked hands cast unnatural spells.” Atlas steps forward, smiling. The corners of his smile turn upwards with the middle falling down to make his mouth look like a heart. It is too different from the smile he wore when they all first met him. It is terrifying. If Eisen can’t kill Atlas after this, Sauda will have to.

“Watching differs from casting. Once you feel it, the power that stings you, it’s a high… you’ll join me once you’re intoxicated with it.” Sigurður steps closer to Atlas, his smile more like a proud father than a villain.

“Are you that confident, Father?”