Page 32 of Greed of Giants

Killian rearranged the sticks, creating another rune. “This rune acknowledges royalty and dominion. There are five kingdoms, but four answer to one. Fire. My father was the king of all kings, the four kingdoms paid tribute to us. We led the way in all: wealth, knowledge, warfare, discovery.”He paused, staring into the flames. His throat moved as he brushed the sticks away, then rearranged them. “This rune is a ward. For those who cross the threshold, it demands a confession, a true indication of intent. It was put there for protection, so that no enemies might cross into our land without alerting us.”

“Confession,” I repeated, remembering the feeling that came over me when I passed under the runes. “The magic still held, it evoked a confession from me as I went through.”

“So the magic still holds,” Killian mused. He rearranged the sticks again, then stared at them for a beat.

I waited.

Then he picked up the sticks and tossed them into the fire.

I had time to see the shape of the rune before he tossed it into the flames. Curved, twin lines crossing. I circled it in my journal, a rune different from the others, a rune that meant something personal.

“No more questions tonight,” Killian whispered, voice rough.

I dared not look at him again. Instead I focused on my words, writing down what I’d seen, what I’d experienced. Jasper settled at my feet, the fire flickered, and Killian stood, shifting into the shadows of the night.

16

Killian

“Killian,” Ilaris said.

It was the morning of our fifth day of travel, and she leaned against the trunk of a great redwood, Jasper curled against her side. Her face was drawn tight, eyes red-rimmed. Her voice was thick with it, desperation fraying her confidence.

“I can’t do this.” She shook her head, the movement shaking loose strands of her dark hair. “I can’t travel like this. I don’t know what you’re accustomed to, but the wilderness, the cold, hard ground, it will break me. My clothes reek of salt and smoke and seawater. My skin is grimy. I need a bath, fresh clothes, and a proper bed to sleep in.”

She twisted her hands together, trying to explain, to paint a picture to make me understand. But no persuasion was necessary. It felt reckless being out here without clothes, guards, or a tent to sleep in. Roughing it in the wilderness wasn’t something I did. There had always beenpavilions of silk and woven warmth, servants who scouted ahead, setting up rugs, beds, and arbors with every comfort provided.

“Then we go to the next city,” I said. “Find a room to rent, they have those here?”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Yes. Only, I don’t have many coins, but we will figure it out.”

I half-regretted leaving the hut so quickly. I hadn’t considered what it meant to travel. The knowledge returned to me slowly, layer by layer. I needed to be more thoughtful, more strategic instead of plunging forward driven by the urgency that hummed in my blood like a second heartbeat. Urgency without wisdom was destruction with direction. Being thoughtful about this journey would make it easier for both of us.

I looked at her, really looked at her. The tiredness in her eyes, the way she held herself like a vessel that had cracked yet was determined not to shatter. Despite myself, that familiar hunger returned—not the hunger for food or destruction, but something quieter. The shape of her name bloomed on my tongue, sweet like honey but dangerous. “Ilaris, I apologize for neglecting your needs. We are partners in this and need each other equally. We’ll go straight to a village, city, or town and do this properly. We’ll get a map and plot out the journey. You’re hurt, still healing, and this time in the wilderness will only set you back. In my rush to fulfill the needs of the oath, I did not see it.”

She gaped, open-mouthed at me, and a sudden rush of tears filled her eyes. She turned away, shoulders shaking.

I picked up the bags.Jasper.

He started shifting immediately. His legs lengthened,his back broadened and grew dense with fur. By the time I had pressed my palm flat against the earth and bent my ear close—feeling for the heat of people, the faint drumbeat of footsteps—Ilaris was already on his back, one hand resting lightly on the ruff of his neck.

Jasper’s amber eyes met mine. His judgmental words crawled through my mind.You made her cry again.

Those weren’t sad tears.

Jasper huffed.All the same.

I turned to the trees, leading the way out.

The looming trees grew more spread out, and the foliage was less thick, leading me to believe we were almost at the edge of the great wood. The rot lingered in the air though, a faint undertone to the earthy scent of the forest. Then Jasper growled, low in his throat, as something stepped out of the wood onto our path.

At first it looked like a stag, but it was all wrong, bony and standing on two legs, with a skeleton head, all bits of flesh gone, leaving only bone, black eye sockets, and horns. It hissed, then lowered its head and dashed at us.

Ilaris screamed, and Jasper sidestepped it, taking her away.

A hot anger burned within me. I didn’t think, only acted. Fire erupted, billowing out of me and slamming into the creature. It might be undead, yet it was made of bones, and bones could be burned to ash. I redoubled my efforts as it continued its speed, gaining on me. Catching hold of one of its horns, I lifted the creature and hurled it. It slammed into the trunk of a tree where it lay stunned for a moment, engulfed in flames.

An uneasy sensation went through me as I watched theflames catch on the trees, the foliage, the brush and bracken. The creature slowly got to its feet and dashed toward me again. I covered it in flames again, feeling the blistering heat soar from every pore of my body. Flames fanned out, licking across the trees. The creature let out a cry, then turned, running into the fire. I watched it stumble, fall, and lie still.