Sludge grabbed Bartholomew by the collar and jerked him to his feet. “Get up. Our lord awaits.”
Bartholomew staggered but instead of falling again, glared at the spike-haired monster. Fake it till you make it.
Fake it till you make it.Sludge had said something under his breath to the old Swiney woman wearing army boots and a gunny sack dress. Crone nodded and dismissed the guards with a wave of her little hand. With a bow, they marched back the way they’d come.
“Go.” Sludge shoved Bartholomew roughly.
The blond boy wrinkled his nose at the sulfur and phosphorus smell and began shuffling down the path. This skirted a steaming swamp filled with maggoty creatures whose frantic backs snaked in and out of the water.
“Yes, my babies, a human,” Crone crooned as they became more frenzied. “A
