Page 59 of Greed of Giants
Panic clawed up my throat. I forced it down, wondering whether they spoke my language, if they understood me. The fire threw orange light across the stone, and I used that moment to study the rest of the shelter. The symbols carved into the cave walls were not runes, but I recognized them nonetheless, the shapes half-recalled from texts I hadn’t opened in years.
“Who are you?” the man with the braided beard asked, his voice soft, haunted by a slight lisp.
I shifted, acutely aware of my vulnerability. I needed to go back out into the storm and search for Killian. But I was also, undeniably, human, with a throbbing ankle, no weapon, and no certainty about whose shelter I’d stumbled into. They might be Guardians, the kind who helped. Or they might be like Lady Justice, ancient and self-serving. I couldn’t tell, but it was clear they were equally wary of me.
“I’m Ilaris, a Scholar from the House of Scholars. I’m traveling here to conduct fieldwork. My companion and I were crossing by air balloon when the storm came.”
Another exchange of glances. Braided beard spoke again. “Then you know of what’s been happening across the world.”
“I’ve been traveling for a while. Enlighten me. And who are you—do you live here?”
Braided beard held up a hand, as if slowing the flow of questions. “We came here to escape the chaos. Surely you’ve heard, since it originated with your people. TheHouse of Scholars.” He paused, the silence heavy as snowfall. “One such scholar traveled south, to the volcanic region of Vold, and opened a rift between our world and the world of something much darker. Evil beings are spawning and feeding on flesh. They come at night, feeding, feeding . . . ”
He stopped. His milky eyes went distant, and his claw-like hands trembled as though the memory had physical weight, as though it pressed on him from the inside.
I blinked hard. They didn’t know it was me, or what I’d done. Yet there was an opportunity to gain their allegiance. If I were careful. “But why come here? To these remote lands?”
The man with the loose beard spoke up while braided beard remained caught in whatever horror he was reliving. “Once the soldiers started marching, we fled as far as we could from the madness. The city is panicking, fear turning to violence.”
A numbness came over me. I could picture it, the panic, the accusations, the House of Scholars blamed for what I had done. My throat tightened. Ironic. They’d sent me away because of the embarrassment I’d caused them, and somehow I’d made it even worse.
If this was a story that was spreading, it was abundantly clear that I was to blame. It explained the wanted poster I’d seen in Caranhal, the bounty on my head. These three men knew nothing about it, yet I’d given them everything they needed to draw conclusions.
“I’ve traveled here to close the rift,” I blurted. “But I need to get back to my companion, time is of the essence.”
Braided beard steadied himself. “Then you know of the chaos, which raises a question: how and why?”
My gaze darted to the tunnel. The howling whiteness beyond it held no appeal, but I noted the distance. If the conversation turned sour, I could run. Poorly, with a wounded ankle, but I was certain it would be enough to escape the three old men.
“Have you heard of the Guardians?” I asked.
The man with the rings in his beard rose from his seat, glaring at his comrades. “The game is up, she knows.”
“What do I know?” I asked, half tempted to make a dash for it. But even underneath the cloak Killian had given me, I shivered.
Ring beard waved toward the carved wall. “You know the meaning of those words, who we are, and why we are here. You’re right, we didn’t leave the city simply because of the chaos. We are Guardians. We stand in the gap while devastation is wrought across our lands. And we mean to stop it.”
Their eyes sparkled with determination. I remembered the power Harlan wielded, the odd chant that called forth strange creatures. And I recalled the way Lady Justice had used her vines. I had no desire to find out what these men could call forth if they chose to.
“We’re on the same side,” I said, too loudly, mirroring them as I rose to stand. “I have a plan. I will stop the Unmaking.”
And then a white bear barreled down the tunnel.
Or at least it looked like a white bear, covered in snow and fur, until I realized it was only Killian and Jasper.
Jasper had grown again, nearly Killian’s height at theshoulder, his horns scraping stone as he bared his teeth at the three old men. His growl was low and resonant, something felt more than heard, vibrating in his chest.
I held up my hands as tension danced in the air, thick and as dangerous as lightning.
Killian read the situation in a single breath. His fists loosened, and he let his arms fall to his sides. It would have helped if he’d apologized. It would have helped if he’d said anything at all. But he only stood there among the wizened men, snow-wet and enormous, his long hair plastered dark against his face, looking less like a man who had just survived a crash landing and more like something the mountain had made and finally decided to release.
“This is my companion,” I announced before they could react.
“I thought I'd lost you.” Killian’s voice was low, rougher than usual. “The storm. The crash.”
“I’m fine,” I said, and moved toward him.
A bright spike of pain went up my ankle, and I crumpled, catching myself on the cave floor with both hands. “I injured my ankle.”
