Page 44 of Greed of Giants

He leaned forward, and I stumbled back, certain hewould topple onto me. Instead, he lowered himself onto a nearby boulder, his body creaking and groaning like the old library stairs under winter frost, protesting but holding. He rested his hands on his knees, bent forward as though he might curl into a ball. “I didn’t get the chance to grieve.”

There was a heaviness to him that had nothing to do with stone. It was grief, thick and suffocating, expanding outward like a cloud. It settled over me, pressing down on my shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I came here with Prince Killian to wake you. The Unmaking are at the doors. He said you could help.”

“Prince Killian.” A heavy sigh. “I see him now, fighting Lady Justice.” His gaze drifted past me toward the platform. “But he’s not my concern.”

The phrasing snagged my attention.Fighting Lady Justice?And why wasn’t Killian a concern? He was the entire reason we’d come.

The giant’s gaze returned to me, slow and deliberate. “Your coming was foretold. The Scholar. The Scroll.” His voice dropped, reverent. “You’re here for the Rod, the Heart, and the Stone.”

The breath left my body. “I’m not here for those treasures. I’ve been warned against seeking the gifts of the gods.”

“The fact that you don’t want them means it is true.” He shifted on the boulder, stone grating against stone. “It is your destiny.”

“I don’t understand.” My voice came out sharper than Iintended. “How will this help guard against the Unmaking?”

“You hold the scroll. Surely you’ve read it?”

I looked down at the parchment still gripped in my hand. The words I’d spoken vibrated through me, clinging to my ribs, my throat, as though they wanted to be spoken again. But there was more. I’d tucked the scroll away too quickly, hadn’t unfurled it fully to see if more verses waited. My first instructor would have rapped my knuckles for such carelessness:Read to the end, Ilaris, or don’t read at all.

I called myself a scholar, yet I’d been too afraid to look. I rolled it back up. “I haven’t finished it.”

“The answers you seek are there.” He rose, joints groaning, and turned toward the waterfall. “I have the Heart to give you. Guard it above all else. Do not let others use it against you.” He paused, his back to me. “Do not use it until it is time.”

I stepped forward, pulse hammering. “What about the Unmaking, the doors that need guarding?”

“That was the sin of Prince Killian. His burden to bear.”

The words struck like a blow. “Then there’s no door here? No seal against them?”

“You must ask him.” The giant’s voice softened. “The only truth I hold is that I must give the Heart to the Scholar when she wakes me. But sleep is much preferable.”

He reached into the waterfall with one long arm, water streaming off the stone, and lifted out a glob of mud. He dropped it at my feet with a wet smack. Through the muck, amber glinted, a promise of something hidden beneath.

My heart leaped into my throat, my pulse so hard itblurred my vision. An ancient relic was being handed to me like river clay. It felt like a mistake, but it also felt like an opportunity that would vanish the moment I hesitated.

I fell to my knees, but lifted my face to the giant. “I still don’t understand.”

“It is time for you to go back the way you came.” His voice deepened, resonant with finality. “It is time for the fire to go out and for access to these lands to be no more. I go to my final resting place.”

He turned and bellowed—a single word command that echoed across the Verdant Maw, shaking loose dust that tasted of ancient earth.

At first, nothing happened. Then the waterfall’s roar swelled, the air thickening with humidity. Clouds rolled in, heavy and wet. The giant climbed back into his alcove, folding himself into the cliff face until he was indistinguishable from the stone.

I had a moment. Only a moment.

I snatched up the muddy rock—supposedly the Heart—and ran.

Water chased, the ground turning slick, then boggy. The roar of it cascaded around me, deafening as I fled toward the platform. It rose higher than I’d thought.

I wasn’t going to make it.

Waves surged, and I was caught in the foaming fury. It rushed toward the platform where Killian and the woman turned toward me. The fire was already weakening, the vines shrinking away. The woman took one look and dived off the other side of the platform, into the waters.

The look on Killian’s face was a mix of relief and panic as he reached for me. I thought of the scroll, how it mightbe soaking wet and the words ruined. I thought of the Heart, how I held it with one hand and a rushing current would knock it away. And I thought of Killian, of what he’d told me, and, most importantly, what he hadn’t shared.

He strained for me, his lips forming words, but I couldn’t hear them in the roar of the waters.