Page 60 of Greed of Giants
Killian was by my side in a moment, brow creased, frustration written across his face. He yearned to touch me, even though he wasn’t sure whether he should. I recalled his fire, the way it appeared to be dormant as of late, and for the first time I wondered if it were purely his restraint or something else. I reached for him first, holding onto his cloak, nothing more.
The bearded men interrupted. “Are you here for the same reason she is?”
“And what reason would that be?” Killian spoke evenly.
I tugged him toward me, speaking low. “They are Guardians, here to stop the Unmaking.”
Killian held my gaze a beat, then straightened and addressed the men. “Then I hope you will pardon the intrusion. We’ll only rest here until the storm abates.”
His wording did not give them a chance to refuse.
Ring beard stood, his eyes going back and forth between Killian and me. Even before he spoke, I became aware of what he’d say, the blame he was about to place on my shoulders.
He raised a crooked finger. “You.” His voice held something stronger than anger, awe, deep and unsettled. “You’re the scholar responsible for this, aren’t you? You opened the rift, brought the Unmaking to our land, and now you.” His finger pointed at Killian. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of the ancients?”
Killian did not back away from the question. “I am Prince Killian of the Fire Giants of Vold. I have returned, woken by the scholar, and our aim is to bring utter devastation to the Unmaking.”
Braided beard pointed to the symbols on the wall. “Your coming was foretold. The giant who would bring destruction, who would lose the devils and destroy our world.”
“Is this a prophecy?” Killian demanded, voice hard.
“It is known.”
The three men nodded, repeating the words like a prayer they had said so many times it became reflex.It is known. It is known.
Jasper growled.
“With the winged beast, doom has come.”
Unease rose, thick and hot. I shifted my gaze to the symbols, trying to read them. But I needed to transcribe them for clarity, to reference the books they’d come from, to fully understand. This was a scholar’s work, and I would not leave without doing it.
It was only then I noticed my satchel. Killian had salvaged it from the crash. Relief poured through me as I lifted out my journal. The edges were cold to the touch, the leather stiff. The pages stuck slightly at the corners as I opened it, exhaling the faint, familiar smell of ink and old paper. Taking a deep breath to steady my trembling fingers, I sketched the symbols. The shapes filled me with dread, for this was a message of doom, yet I hesitated to ask them to decipher it for me.
By the time I finished, the three men had drawn together at the far side of the cave, speaking in tones too low to catch beneath the wind’s howl, though most of their meaning came through gesture anyway. The stolen glances. The slow shake of the head.
At last, braided beard turned to us. “What will happen is inevitable. Come. We will show you.”
Killian and I exchanged glances.
“They are Guardians.” He shrugged, letting me know it was unclear where their allegiance lay. They might help, or we could walk into a trap, but at this particular moment, we were not in any position to refuse either.
I wanted to believe they could help us, so I stood, wobbling on my feet.
A hand settled at the small of my back.
The warmth of it moved through me before I could stop it. Not the fire, not the burning he always held at bay.The fact that he reached out, touched me, made warmth bloom within. The fire was smoldering, but it would not burn me, not today.
I faced the three Guardians. “We will follow.”
Shadows shifted as they led us deeper into the cave, into a network of tunnels that branched and curved and arched upward without warning. Killian supported me while I limped, and Jasper trotted behind us, his form shrinking to fit through the narrower passageways. The soft rhythm of his paws was comforting, the only sound aside from the old men’s shoes and the distant moan of wind finding its way through cracks in the stone.
The concave halls curved then arched, springing up wide, as though this were a place where giants once walked. Did they live here in these halls deep under the mountains?
Symbols marked the entrance to each tunnel, repeated on the walls between them. I wanted to stop and study all of them, to press my fingers against the grooves and note them in my journal, but there wasn’t time. I tried to memorize everything, the slight gleam to the tunnel walls, the bitter cold biting out all sensation, and the uncanny warmth emitting from somewhere.
We descended ever so slightly, and there in the growing dark a memory bloomed, uninvited, of Killian’s home, how he took me underground, under rock, down into the depths where the Unmaking fought against the doors. My chest tightened. I was in another ruined city with no idea of what waited at the end. Another door? A giant? Something worse?
The passageway opened, and the three Guardiansmoved in three directions, lighting torches as they walked, murmuring a low, rhythmic chant. The light grew slowly, revealing the room in stages.
