Page 42 of Greed of Giants

There it was again. That single-minded focus on accomplishments and recognition. She wanted the world to know who she was and what she’d done—more importantly, what she’d discovered. It mattered to her in a way I couldn’t fully grasp. In retrospect, it seemed foolish. Such a fleeting wish for the praise of mortals, even if just for a moment. Eventually, it would all fade into nothingness. Nothing left to pride herself on, no one to remember her name, who she was, or what she’d done.

When my people were punished, wiped from the face of the earth, mortals remained to carry on. To live, to build, to thrive. But she didn’t understand. Once we accomplished what we set out to do, there would be nothing left.

I needed to share the whole truth with her. But the wayshe was looking at me made me want to hold it close, to keep these tender moments before she hated me. Before she warred against everything that would happen between us.

I let my gaze linger on her, dipping down to the fall of her hair, the way the filtered light shone on her brown skin. A memory rose, and I welcomed the reminder of her palm against mine, skin to skin. It made me want to try again. She was becoming a craving I couldn’t deny, a hunger that sharpened with every breath.

Her expression shifted. Drifting from joy to confusion, then pain.

Ilaris yelped.

She fell forward, hands reaching for me as something snatched her into the underbrush.

Fire licked against my skin, but I quelled it. The entire place would become an inferno if I let myself burn. Instead, I dove into the thick bushes, her shouts of frustration guiding me through the green tangle.

Jasper’s sharp bark came, somehow, impossibly too late to warn me.

It’s her. Maren.

The name sent a chill through me.

The underbrush tightened, wrapping around my limbs like living rope. My vision became nothing but a sea of green. Moss pressed in until struggle became impossible. It crowded my nostrils, pressed against my body, tightened around my ankles, hugged every inch of me like a second skin. And then came the whispers, scurrying voices calling, shouting. Louder than my thoughts, louder than reason, filling my mind until I couldn’t hear her anymore.

I didn’t know where she was, and the itch to burn filled me, a need so strong I clenched my jaw until it locked.

The world went woozy, and then I was moving again, against my own will, the moss pushing, pulling, spitting me out. It was uncomfortable and took all my willpower not to resist. The woman’s name hummed in my mind as I was spat out on a dais, a pair of feet in gilded gold sandals inches from my face.

Dread filled me, and I didn’t have to lift my head in order for recognition to flood me. Only one question screamed in my mind.How? How was this possible?

The moss released me, and the vines slithered away like snakes. I stood on the stone platform, the towering form of a woman looming above me. She was my height, her skin green like the vines. They sprouted from her as though she were their source, the wellspring that gave them life. It was her magic they clung to, thriving on it for their strange abilities. A familiar blue dress covered her curvaceous body, but it was her smug expression that made it impossible to keep back the fire. It crackled across my skin, smoke drifting from my shoulders. But the vines had already escaped, and there, standing on stone, my anger was self-contained.

I loathed being outwitted, so I practically spat the words at her. “You’ve been following us. Waiting to attack until now. Why?”

I did not voice my true question.Where was Ilaris?

“I had to be sure of your intentions. There was a chance, albeit a small one, that my sources were wrong and that I was chasing two innocents through the countryside.I’m surprised, and frankly insulted, that you didn’t recognize me on the train.”

“Your shape-shifting made you appear quite human, and, to add insult to injury, you were not at the forefront of my mind. I forgot you always wear blue.” I kept my voice stern. “I have no interest in your magic. I didn’t then, and I don’t now. You know what will happen if you don’t let me pass.”

“Yes,” she said dryly, leaning on her stick. “You’ll burn this place down. But you haven’t yet because you’re trying to figure out how to do so without turning your companion into a sack of charred bones.”

“I need her,” I said tightly. “And I’m not going to bargain with you.”

“What you’re doing is wrong. We were banished for a reason. The world belongs to mortals now. You are tempting fate with your actions, but you won’t win. All you’ll do is bring about more devastation.”

“Maren.” Names were power. When I said them, usually I could elicit a response, a sense of control depending on the inflection. I was careful, so careful with Ilaris, determined not to break her. With Maren, it was leverage.

“Prince Killian,” she hissed, vines twisted around her head, leaping out like a striking snake. “Don’t you use your magic on me. I come with a warning. What you are doing has dire consequences and will cost far more than you are willing to give. Have you forgotten what drove you? The greed, the need for success, to distinguish yourself among others? You wished to stand out among your brothers and prove your worth, not only to your father but to all of us.To cement your name in history. Do you see how you are repeating the same cycle?”

I ground my teeth together. “It’s different this time.”

“How? Don’t trick yourself into believing you have a grand purpose. You’re here to wake the sleepers, but what good will it do?”

Did she not know? I held my anger tight, like a coiled ball. “We are going to stop them. The Unmaking. Five of us were chosen to carry the weight of blame, punished for what was discovered. One prince from each kingdom, to awaken at the end of days to stop them.”

Maren’s shoulders dipped, and all the posturing went out of her. Her vines hung limp, and the light went out of her eyes. A pained expression crossed her face. “That’s what you believe? This is more, much more than you have imagined. If you want to stop the Unmaking, you need the gifts of the gods, the Rod, the Stone, and the Heart. You need to wield them, and you need to be willing to offer the ultimate sacrifice. There is no other way.”

Another dagger of dread struck me. That she should know this and hold it over me like a noose. “Your word is not enough for me to believe. How can I validate the truth?”