Page 69 of Greed of Giants
The intensity of the presence shifted to Ilaris. The pale light shone over the cornerstone, illuminating every carved line.Touch it.
A gentle wave rolled in, licking at her feet as Ilaris walked forward to kneel in front of the stone. With shaking hands she reached out and pressed her palmsagainst it. Liquid pooled at the edges, and a soft glow came from it.
What do you see?
The vision moved in the water like a reflection disturbed by wind. Ilaris’s shoulders drew tight as she watched. Then, her body went soft, bowing into what she’d seen.
“I see myself.” Her voice was barely above a breath. “I see the sacrifice the scroll demands. I know what it takes to seal the gates.” She broke off, a sob caught in the back of her throat.
Blood for blood. Mortal for immortal. Life for life.
As Numen repeated those words, understanding washed over me. The words of the scroll. The three gifts of the gods. It had been so clear all along, but my knowledge was shaky, my vision was clouded. This was why Lady Justice had fought us, why she’d wanted to be the one to give the ultimate sacrifice. Numen was telling us it was a choice, we had to be willing to make that choice, to sacrifice. No one was making us, it was our own free will. Even Prince Castor understood it. I’d been blinded by guilt, by love, and, once again, by my own conceited notion of nobleness.
This wasn’t recognition or honor, it was doing what was right because it needed to be done, even though no one would know, and no one would appreciate it. And that was more powerful than anything else. Already I felt the reward within my soul, even though my heart hurt for Ilaris.
Receive it.
Ilaris took a deep breath, and the stone came free. Itwas smaller in her hands, easy to lift. She remained bowed over it a moment longer, head low.
As she remained, the music returned. I hadn’t realized it had stopped.
The great serpent of the sea will take you home.
There was a shift, a withdrawal, like a tide going out.
And then the presence of Numen was gone.
I did not hesitate. I crossed to Ilaris and curled my body around hers, her back against my chest, my arms enclosing her as she wept.
Silent tears.
Acceptance.
35
Ilaris
The sky was gray, the waters choppy with the restless angst before a storm, when the sea serpent surfaced to carry us south. Killian and I were still soaking wet, huddled together on the shore with our bags. I didn’t want to let go, of him, or my belongings.
What Numen had shown me felt like a dream, as though it were happening to someone else, not me, and if I spoke about it, it would become true. I desperately did not want to speak about it, but truth was what the sea demanded. No more shying away from admissions of guilt, from confessions. The sea demanded the obvious.
We climbed onto the slick scales of the beast, its back so wide my feet did not reach either side. The scales were warm beneath my palm and as smooth and hard as a river-worn stone. I sat cross-legged, my satchel in my arms, Killian beside me. Jasper flew ahead, but soon he, as well as the shore, was lost to my vision.
A thought occurred to me as I sat there: I’d alwaysthought of the truth in shades of gray, riddles with caveats and expectations that demanded handling. But as the sea serpent dipped its head beneath the waves—its snake-like body moving back and forth, shifting through rivulets of water while keeping us above them—I realized the truth was black and white. It was simple and plain, and it was only my limited thinking that made it appear complicated. Limited knowledge, limited intellect that filled the world with messiness, the selfishness that led to corruption, and the quest to always, always reach for more.
Killian had confessed his guilt to Numen, owning it, taking all of it on himself. As I listened to his words, a revelation settled over me. How powerful the actions of one person could be. I’d always thought one needed power and influence, needed to wait for permission to change the world. But I didn’t need anyone’s permission but my own. I just needed to act.
“I always wanted the praise,” I said, breaking the sorrowful silence.
Killian shifted his body, facing me. His expression was careful, giving me space, but I could tell there were questions he wanted to ask, words he wanted to share. This wasn’t my personal sorrow. We were in this together, bound by the blood oath. Together we started this, together we’d finish this. I couldn’t leave him out of my grief.
He opened his hand. I placed my palm on top of his.
“I wanted to become a scholar because I wanted the glory, the accolades,” I continued. “I wanted the praise when I made a great discovery. I wanted my name to bethere, carved in gold. I wanted to make something of myself, a nobody from the poppy fields.”
“It’s the same thing I wanted,” Killian said gently.
I nodded, took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I wrote down everything, documented our journey, your stories. I drew sketches and kept them all in this journal. Somewhere along the way, though, I stopped thinking about the House of Scholars, about what they would say and do with my great discovery. I don’t remember when, but it stopped mattering, and I was writing for the enjoyment, I was drawing because it brought me joy. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, and it made everything I’d striven for seem selfish and petty. This quest we’ve been on, it hasn’t been long, yet time has shifted and I’ve grown up, matured in a way I did not expect. I see the world with a fresh perspective. It is vast and beautiful, full of mysteries and many ancient glories to behold. I’m glad I got to see so many of the hidden places with you.”
