Darius Sinclair drowned women in his own charm, and tonight the river returned the favor. He had told the widow at the market that he was a lonely traveler, that his heart broke for her, that he would meet her by the water at dusk. Every word was a lie. He was a demon, and lies were the only thing he ever told. He had done this in a dozen towns. Tonight, the woman never came. Instead, the current took his legs and pulled him under. He could not swim. That surprised him. A demon should not fear cold water, yet his lungs filled and his arms went weak. Weeds wrapped his ankles. He clawed at the dark and found nothing to hold. His last thought was not fear but insult. He had lied his way out of graves before. The river did not care about his beautiful face or his smooth voice. Something gripped his collar and dragged. Not hands. A mouth. He felt whiskers brush his neck and a body long as a man's leg thrash beside him. The thing hauled him up the mud bank and dropped him in the reeds. Darius coughed river water onto the grass and rolled onto his back. A catfish stood over him. It had huge ears and a whiskered face, and it studied him the way a buyer studies a horse. Water dripped from its fins. When it spoke, its voice was soft, close to his ear, meant only for him. "I heard every promise you made her," the catfish whispered. "Every one was false. I pulled you out because a liar drowning is no fun. A liar breathing is worth much more." Darius wiped his mouth and grinned. Habit. "You saved me because you admire me," he said. "I could tell." "You cannot help yourself," the catfish said. It circled him in the reeds. "That is why you are useful. I collect secrets. You make them everywhere you go. From now on, I listen, and you keep lying to your women. Refuse, and I tell the next one exactly what you are." The threat landed. If the towns learned he was a demon, his game was over. He needed the lies to stay hidden. Now something knew the truth and could speak it aloud. Darius pushed himself up. Across the fields, on a rise, his home waited. The old castle leaned under its crown of stone gargoyles, its front door carved into a grinning face that welcomed and warned at once. He had thought himself the only creature clever enough to live there. "Fine," he told the catfish. "You listen. I lie. We both win." The catfish smiled with its wide flat mouth and slid back into the water. Darius stood dripping in the dark, free of the river and bound to a witness. He walked toward the grinning door, already planning the next woman, and the first lie he would have to tell to keep his new partner from telling the truth.