Jason rose to his feet with a motion that was not quite human.
His body moved, but there was a wrongness to it, a mechanical precision that belonged more to a puppet than a man. His arms hung at his sides. His head tilted forward, chin almost touching his chest. His footsteps, when they came, were slow and deliberate—a casual, unhurried stride that carried him across the shattered stone of the chamber. Each step echoed through the ruins, a hollow sound that seemed to come from somewhere far away, somewhere beyond the walls of this ancient place.
Maldred watched him approach.
And for the first time in centuries, Maldred felt fear.
