Page 12 of Greed of Giants
He was going to kill me.
A bark broke the tension, and the horned dog dashed between us, teeth bared, growling. The giant lowered his hands just a fraction, but it was enough. I found my tongue as I knelt to protect the dog. “Don’t hurt me, I come in peace.”
Fire extinguished as though I’d poured water over him. The glowing embers underneath his skin faded, though that gold gaze held me as his mouth moved. Instinctively, I leaned forward, anticipating his words as his lips twitched. Finally, his gaze released me, lingering on my hand where the scroll was still clutched in my fingers.
What had possessed me to read it aloud?
His low voice rumbled like the beginning of thunder. “Who sent you? Why are you here?”
That voice. It was deep and smooth, enveloping me with warmth. A slow yearning throbbed in my soul. Unbidden. Unwelcome. Undeniable. Breaking eye contact, I stood tall, holding the scroll in both hands as though it would shield me from any further outbursts of fire.
The horned dog sat back on its haunches and cocked its head, watching us.
“My name is Ilaris. I was sent here by the House of Scholars to study the runes and translate them. I’m seeking knowledge, truth, but I did not expect to awaken you.”
“Do you know what you’ve done?”
Anger laced his words. Why was he so upset? I eyed his broad hands, those long fingers, the veins running up his muscular forearms. Awareness settled over me. It would take very little for him to hurt me, a reminder that I should choose my words carefully, even though his obvious anger made me want to lash out.
Instead, I held up the scroll, keeping my words even. “I read from the scroll. I believe the words woke you. It wasn’t my intent to pull you from the afterlife, or wherever your soul was at rest. And I certainly didn’t expect you to be so ungrateful.”
That last jab caught his attention. His eyes went wide, nostrils flared as though no one had dared to speak to him with such audacity. A little zing of pleasure went through me at his reaction, even though I knew I might nurse burns to go along with my bruises should he retaliate. My armor wasn’t strong enough to withstandfire.
He stepped closer. “It is not ungratefulness. You are ignorant of what happened here.”
I looked at the chains, still glowing red-hot from where he’d burned them off. He was a prisoner, that much was obvious, but he could be a thief, a murderer, an outcast. Where did he fit into the society of giants? Was he one of them or some kind of magic I shouldn’t have touched?
A memory came to me, of leaving the train and seeing the old, wizened man by the side of the road with his ox. The words floated in my memory.Don’t go.
What had I done?
Since there was no sense in shrinking away from what I’d done, and no putting the fully flesh man back inside stone, I lifted my chin. “Then tell me what happened. I know nothing about you, and I suspect you know nothing about this world. You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of the ancient giants?”
Rolling his shoulders back, he shifted, turning to take in his surroundings. No longer the center of his attention, I felt my knees go weak. I gripped the scroll as though it would give me strength and glanced at the horned dog. It sat contentedly, still watching the giant. I followed his gaze to the mountain where black smoke rolled, and a creeping dread came over me. Whatever happened next, I wanted the truth about that door the giants had supposedly found, and what was behind it.
Finally, he shifted back toward me, his expression unreadable. “It’s not safe here. We should move to higher ground.”
He led the way, moving slowly, and I followed. Every few steps he paused, gazing across the ruins. We moved upthe stone steps, back toward the archway and the rune-covered stones that led into the realm.
I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, returning to life after so long. How many thousands of years had it been since he lived? Had he seen the devastation of his homeland? Was it a shock to see the city in ruins?
I studied him as we moved. He wore only a loose pair of gray pants, and his feet were bare. Long, dark hair fell past his shoulders, hanging in gentle waves that would make any woman jealous. My throat went tight, that fluttering sensation inside as though I were looking at something I shouldn’t be.
A stiffness punctuated his movements, as though parts of him were still rigid stone. But it was the light moving under his skin that captured my attention. At times his skin looked like cracked stone with fire bleeding out of it. Other times it was smooth. Normal.
I recalled the way fire had danced out of him, hovering on his palms, ready to destroy. He was ancient magic, beautiful yet deadly. Again I waited for terror to send me fleeing, but all I sensed was wonder and the increasing need to know his story. It curled within, a buoyancy, a pride in what I’d done to wake him along with a lingering craving.
No one back at the House of Scholars would believe me. But they’d see when I wrote up my report, when I translated the runes and came back with the true story of what actually happened during the Great Sundering. All thoughts of finding the Rod, the Heart, and the Stonedrifted away. Knowledge was better than priceless treasure. Wasn’t it?
He paused as we approached the archway. The horned dog trotted around the large boulders, and the giant moved to the left and sat down heavily. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he hid his face in his hands and sat there, unmoving.
Grieving?
Unsure what to say, I sat cross-legged on the boulder across from him and pulled out my notebook. Flipping to another page, I took out my pencil and started sketching, the way he sat hunched over, the size of his large hands covering his face, the fall of his hair, the way the wind tugged at his pants, as though comforting him.
The longer I sketched, the more a thrill washed over me. I was sitting in the ruins with, perhaps, the last giant. I’d made a grand discovery. Should I write to the House of Scholars and tell them what I’d done? Surely it would be enough to lift the restrictions, to bring me back to the life I desired.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he straightened, and I had a sudden glimpse of the rawness of him, the depths of his beautiful eyes, the slump of his shoulders as though he carried a heavy burden. It was there, transparent for only a few moments before his expression hardened. He pulled himself together and faced me.
