Page 30 of Greed of Giants

She sat up, staring in amazement at Jasper as though he might sprout wings and fly away. “But he’s a dog.”

I’d already told her he was a hellhound, but I supposed they were a rarity in the realm of mortals. “I assume you found him not far from the ruins.”

It felt odd calling my kingdom, my home, a ruin.

Ilaris went still. “Are you saying that there are creatures left over from the age of giants?”

I shrugged. “I’m not all-knowing. Time has drifted. Everything I thought I knew changed. I can’t tell you much of what I know beyond the fact that I’m here.”

“Fair,” she admitted.

“We should go,” I said. “I want to put more distance between us and the sea.”

“I agree,” she said, standing. “I’m sorry Harlan turned out to be such a disappointment.”

“You couldn’t know,” I told her. “Don’t blame yourself for situations that are out of your control.”

She went quiet again, as though mulling over my wordswhile I scanned the forest, trying to decide where we were. There were no indications, nothing that would lead me toward the Verdant Maw, not in this unfamiliar landscape. Behind me was the scent of water. All I knew was to press forward.

I examined the Scholar, taking in her gentle curves, her unblemished skin, her shiny hair. The way she looked and dressed—all of it indicated she was not used to travel, yet I asked the question anyway. “Do you know where we are?”

She tilted her head. “No. Are we lost?”

There was no fear in her voice. Only curiosity. Surprising. “No, but a map would be useful. I can find life, people, but if I could overlay the shape of your world with the shape of mine, I could guide us to our next location.”

“Then let’s find life, people,” she said, climbing on top of Jasper.

We traveled into the forest, an endless journey of soft moss, broken bracken, and soft dirt. It had rained here recently, for the ground was still soaking it in, enjoying the wetness. Life sprung out everywhere, the vibrant greens I expected but something else clinging to the forest, the scent of dung, rot, winged creatures flying around us, bugs I had no name for. My skin itched with the need to burn and, although barefoot, the soles of my feet were tough. This walk meant nothing.

From time to time I glanced over at Jasper, trotting just behind me. Ilaris rode with a look of grim determination on her face, and I remembered what she’d told me, about the legal beating, and then her bruised leg. How much pain was she in? How much was she willing to endure?

My thoughts strayed to a place I did not intend them togo. I thought about my brothers and what they’d think of this. When we were young, we would have enjoyed it. Five fire giants in the forest, our father shouting for us to maintain restraint so we wouldn’t burn it down. As we did often, but it was known that out of fire came life. When the land was burned to ash, we saw life return, more vibrant than before. Not unlike this forest, except there was an undertone of rot to it. Death.

Was it the same thing that happened underwater? Did something lurk underneath the earth? I thought of the shadow I’d seen on the island that only moved under cover of night. What else lurked here, what else waited for me? Had anything escaped from its prison?

My kingdom hadn’t sat on an island before. It was part of the world, next to great mountains where we quarried stone to build monuments to the heavens. The way it was ripped from the land made me think it also had to do with the punishment. The Great Sundering. If giants were cut off from the land, the kingdoms reduced to ruins, it would not be easy to find my brethren. Nor would it be easy if the Guardians impeded our progress at every step.

Nightfall came faster than I imagined. One full day of travel and the exhaustion in Ilaris’s eyes was clear. She wasn’t used to this, neither was I. As I looked out into the softening shadows, I imagined shapes, things in the dark watching us, and I resolved to watch back.

15

Ilaris

Day three of travel, Killian made another meal, not as elaborate as the one we shared in the hut, but I was grateful to eat it. We sat in silence, the only sounds the crackle of fire and the distant calls of the forest animals as they settled in for the night. I stole glances at Killian across the flames, studying the shadows dancing across his chiseled features. In the ruins he’d seemed otherworldly, in the hut, more human, yet still magnificent. Out there in the forest, there was another shift to him. A longing I did not want to examine rose, but I was determined not to be impulsive.

I had an opportunity to do what no other scholar had ever done, for the House of Scholars wanted to know about giants, and I would tell the ultimate story. The truth. It was more than the Great Sundering. It was five locations where giants were buried, and I held the words to bring them back. Leaning back against a tree trunk, I took out my journal and flipped to a blank page. Tonight my bruiseswere only a dull thud, and while the exhaustion from traveling made me want to close my eyes, I wanted to capture this tale. I’d wasted time sleeping, healing, and was no closer to knowing his story.

“What are you doing?” Killian asked.

The firelight caught the curiosity in his gaze, something endearing about it brought a smile to my lips. “Writing everything down for historical records. As a scholar, it’s important to record everything.” I ran my fingers over the blank page. “I came to the ruins looking for academic vindication, but I found something more complicated.”

“Regret it?” There was a catch in his voice, a tension, daring me to speak.

Did I? I’d been beaten. Bound by a blood oath to an immortal I could never touch. Drowned. I was walking toward certain danger, away from everything familiar, with no clear path back to the life I’d known. But this wasn’t the first time I’d thrown all caution to the wind and focused on what was in front of me, instead of what was behind. Time would tell if this would be my biggest risk, or the start of my future.

“No.” I sat upright, my words bold, holding his gaze. “I regret my impulsiveness and my ignorance, thinking I understood what I was doing. But not. . . not you.”

His hand stilled on the food he’d been packing away, the wood he’d been feeding to the fire. For a long moment he was utterly motionless, that same stillness that had come over him when I’d attempted to kiss him. Even that memory, though it carried hints of embarrassment, was not a moment I regretted.