“When the solstice sun rose, it drew Uliksi into the world. A spirit that turns the predator into the prey.” I’ve been thinking about this book since I first read it years ago. The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion is a horror novella by Margaret Killjoy, the first in her Danielle Cain trilogy about a demon-hunting band of anarchists. It was first published by Tor.com in 2017 and I received it as part of a Pride Month giveaway bundle a couple of years later. For some reason, I never reviewed it on this blog or continued the series, but the imagery in the book of a carnivorous deer demon hunting down those who abuse their power stuck with me, as did the ethical questions that the characters who summoned it wrestle with. When Margaret Killjoy recently announced that she had recorded audiobook editions, I figured now was the perfect time to revisit the series.
Danielle Cain is a wanderer, never staying in one place for long and most comfortable when navigating the underbellies of society, beyond the reach of the government and laws. When her best friend Clay dies by suicide and leaves behind a cryptic note, Danielle journeys to the last place he called home in search of answers. She finds herself in Freedom, Iowa, an anarchist commune that seems to be the kind of utopia Clay always dreamed of—or it would be if it weren’t for the bloodred, three-antlered carnivorous deer and and the zombi-fied animals that continue to run around town after their rib cages have been ripped open and their hearts devoured. Clay’s friends explain that the deer is Uliksi, an endless spirit that they summoned the previous year in order to take down a despotic leader who had taken over the commune. The residents have since come to worship Uliksi, but when it takes another human life they must reckon with what exactly they’ve brought into the world. Is Uliksi a divine arbiter of justice striking down those who deserve to be killed? Or is it a demon fighting only for its own self-preservation? Have they just replaced one despot with a new, otherworldly one? Danielle and her new friends realize that if they want to un-summon Uliksi, their best chance to do so is likely on the next summer solstice, just a few days away. But there are some folks in Freedom who will go to extreme lengths to stop anyone from interfering with Uliksi’s justice.
What is it about killer deer spirits that make for such perfectly creepy sources of horror? It’s a popular image in folk horror, often representing a vengeful nature spirit that lashes out at those who intrude upon or threaten the wilderness. Stephen Graham Jones explores similar themes with Elk Head Woman in The Only Good Indians, in which a group of men are punished one by one for violating both tribal tradition and hunting laws when they killed a pregnant doe. But I think The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion really gets at the heart of what makes this image so unsettling: it’s uncanny to see a prey animal acting as a predator. The characters in this story explicitly summon Uliksi to flip the power dynamic: they want to hunt down the man lording over their town, turning a predator into the prey. But in doing so, they summon a far more frightening predator. This uncanny power inversion spreads from Uliksi like a virus: When not hunting down humans, Uliksi feeds upon the hearts of the local wildlife and livestock. But any prey animal it kills doesn’t stay dead, instead reviving as a sort of zombie that seems to be controlled by Uliksi’s will. And no one likes being stared at by a bunch of birds, bunnies, and goats with gaping, bloody holes in their chests.
Another interesting reversal is that this monster is summoned during the summer solstice and is only active during daylight hours. In horror, we’re used to monsters that emerge from the dark of night, often borrowing features from or reveling in the company of nocturnal animals like bats. When frightening creatures cross over from other worlds, it’s usually at midnight or in the early hours of the morning and often in the depths of winter or on Halloween night, both traditional times when the veil between worlds is said to be thin. But in The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion, night and darkness mean respite and safety while the first rays of dawn bring horror and dread. In this way, it’s like the 2019 folk horror film Midsommar, which draws horror out from settings, objects, and color schemes where we would least expect to find it. And in that lies the real lesson: true horror is not located inside dark colors, sharp teeth, and blood and gore. Instead, we can find it within human hearts, even in those who are striving to do good and want to create a better world. Danielle and her friends will have to look inside themselves and closely examine their own motivations before they are ready to confront the physical monster before them.
If you would like to never look at deer the same way again, definitely pick up The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion. If you’d like to check out the audio edition, it is currently available for direct purchase from Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness publishing collective and coming soon to larger distributors like Libro.FM. Margaret Killjoy narrates herself and it’s definitely an indie production, with a handful of errors that never got edited out of the final recording. But the DIY punk element of this narration fits the vibe of the book, so I can forgive the errors and didn’t find them too distracting. You can find the print edition on shelves now at your favorite local retailer or you can order a copy online and support The Gothic Library in the process using this Bookshop.org affiliate link. If you’ve already read it, let me know your thoughts in the comments!