Page 2 of Greed of Giants
My grandmother’s bones sat outside the house for as long as I could remember. My mother touched them with each coming and going, thanking my grandmother’s femur bone for safety and protection. I thought it was disrespectful. Why not bury the dead instead of letting their bones become hard and brittle from exposure?
Secretly, I made plans to bury her remains until I read a book of fables and discovered it was a tradition for those who followed the old ways. Keeping the bones exposed was a way to ensure a spirit lingered in the afterlife instead of going to its final resting place.
Apparently, my grandmother had behaved badly throughout her entire life. Keeping her spirit alive was imperative to prevent her from going to the place where the dead were punished for their misdeeds.
Unfortunately, I’d taken after her.
Asking the simple question:why?Had gotten me into a lot of trouble over the years. If, indeed, my grandmother’s spirit was watching over me, she was likely disappointed—or very proud—of the way I’d turned out. Unlike her, though, I had no children who would keep my spirit from passing into damnation.
I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath, wishing I could touch her bones and request good luck today, for, no surprise, I was in trouble. Again.
In ten short minutes, a verdict would be passed, which would likely ruin the progress I’d made on my quest to lift myself from simplicity and become an illustrious member of the House of Scholars. I attempted to gather fragile threads of hope as I approached the House, an impressive old fortress built into the hillside.
It lay to the north of the great city, settled into the remnants of mountains, overlooking a small village where, hundreds of years ago, it was used as a watchtower to warn the settlers about invading armies. Now, wars were long-lost memories, gathered and cataloged by scholars. I yearned to be one of their number, to satisfy my curiosity by documenting the past.
I paced outside the great hall, where discoveries were discussed and research shared. The scent of well-worn parchment filled my nostrils, but instead of providing comfort, dread twisted in my belly. I'd thought that digging deep and solving a mystery would lift me from apprenticeship and seal my status as a Scholar. How wrong I'd been.
No one cared that I'd traced missing artifacts to the Lundquist family's private estate or that they sold them forprofit to build their wealth. They cared that I'd published it. That I'd named names and made the House of Scholars look complicit by revealing the truth about the thefts.
Muffled voices distracted my spiraling thoughts. I crept closer to the door and pressed my ear against the wood, straining to hear.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I’d prefer we ejected her from the House entirely.”
“There is no possible way for her to ruin this. It is a simple task to show us she is serious about being reinstated.”
My heart sank. Theyweregoing to kick me out.
Without warning, the door jerked open. I jumped back, dropping my papers, which scattered across the floor.
Madame Sunvelia cleared her throat, disappointment in her eyes. “Ilaris? Eavesdropping?”
I bent to gather the papers, face hot as I tucked them back into my journal. “I just arrived,” I stammered. “Are you ready for me?”
Madame Sunvelia snorted and moved back into the chamber, calling to the heads of the society. “Apprentice Ilaris has arrived. I’m sure our verdict will not surprise her since she was eavesdropping at the door.”
Protests rose thick in my throat, but the idea of being expelled hung over me like a rain cloud, and I dared not argue. At least, not yet. The fact that I was being granted a hearing instead of being kicked out directly was a small mercy.
I took a seat at the round table. The Scholars believed everyone deserved a seat at the table, apprentices andscholars alike. There was some ideal of equality, that we were all on equal footing, except now, it was very clear that I was in disgrace. Not from my position at the table, obviously, but from the stern looks cast on me by the other scholars. It was only natural that I scowl back, but I fought hard to keep my expression neutral.
Madame Sunvelia folded her hands over a book and peered down at me over the rim of her horn-rimmed glasses. The glasses were a fashion statement to make her appear more scholarly than she actually was. I’d heard rumors that her apprentices did all the work while she took all the credit, but I knew better than to prove the theory was correct.
“It was bold of you to come today,” she began.
Scholar Trudy—who was taking notes—nudged her. “I think you meant to say brave.”
Sunvelia glared at Trudy. “No, I meant to say bold, is it not?”
A quiet murmur rippled through the gathering.
I allowed myself to frown.
“Out with it!” Scholar Theodore boomed. “Some of us have more important meetings to attend.”
He worked closely with the Council of Governors, I doubted he wanted to be here, but his presence indicated the severity of my actions.
“Fine, there’s no delicate way to put this.” Madame Sunvelia leaned forward, gray eyes boring into me like daggers. “Ilaris, you have disgraced the House of Scholars with your actions. Your thoughtlessness and carelessness have threatened to ruin the standing we have with the government and invalidate all of your work. Several werein favor of barring you from this society, effective immediately, but you have a sharp mind, and your contributions—up until the scandal—have been valid. You show promise, which is why we are giving you this one last opportunity. You will travel south to the volcanic region of Vold to study the stonework left by the ancient giants. A thorough study of the runes left behind and rough translations will go a long way toward your reinstatement.”
“Stonework?” I blurted. “But there’s nothing there. It’s been thousands of years since the Great Sundering, and many have already studied the runes and stonework. We already have detailed books in our collection.”
