Page 52 of Greed of Giants

My mind raced. Now, if ever, was a time for questions. She’d clearly been watching us, biding her time, waiting until I was alone.

“You have the Heart,” she went on. “He gave it to you, even though it was not his right. The gifts of the gods belong to me, not to be misused by some mortal hand. You will give it to me.”

A cold fear washed over me, removing the haze from the ale. Killian had warned me what would happen to those who had the three gifts, and if Lady Justice was chasing us down for them, it did not bode well. Despite her name, Ifeared how she would use them against us. Not only Killian and me but the human race. I didn’t know her goals any more than I knew what, ultimately, Killian was after either.

I kicked out hard, catching her knee, then taking advantage of the moment to drop to the ground. She fell on top of me, yanking my throat hard with the scarf. I kicked. She was faster. In moments she had me on my back, wrists bound, sitting on my chest with her full weight, the fabric at my throat tight again.

My vision swam. Her face hovered above me, human one moment, distinctly not the next. Her features shifted between green and blue and something other. The scent of her perfume reached me, sweet against the iron taste of fear at the back of my mouth.

Her voice rang in my ears. “That was a mistake. Don’t be greedy like the giants, hoarding the gifts of the gods to yourself, believing you, and you alone, can save the world from its sin. Give it to me, and I will do what you cannot. The age of the giants is over. Do you want the mortals to end up the same way?” Her grip tightened. “You want to save them, don’t you? Although they have done nothing to deserve it.”

The pressure in my chest built, and it became harder to breathe. My legs kicked, then went weak as the world faded and fluttered. Here in this busy inn, I felt more alone than I’d ever been in my life.

I came back to myself,half-naked on the floor, my throat raw, head spinning, stomach churning. The room was dark and empty, the door shut. My head pounded as I rolled to my side and stumbled to my feet, weaving for a moment. The room was empty. I was alone.

I went to my bag, searched it, already knowing it was gone. She’d gone through my things, and despite how I’d buried it, hidden it from sight, she’d taken the Heart.

And only the Heart.

The sob of desperation that rose bit at my ragged throat. Not bothering to dress, I snatched up my clothes and the satchel, tucked my armor as best as I could into the bag, and lurched out the door. The hall was dark, little lamps offering vague light.

Two doors down I knocked, gently at first, hoping not to wake anyone else.

Killian opened it almost immediately. His lamp was still on, the golden glow showing off his tousled hair. He, too, was half-naked, the bronze tones of his bare chest highlighted. His expression shifted, lips parted. “What’s wrong?”

The fact that he knew right away made me want to throw myself into his arms, to seek his comfort. I almost choked on my words. “Lady Justice. She took the Heart.”

His jaw went tight, hands curled into fists, and hestepped into the hall. The words growled from his throat. “Where is she?”

“Wait,” I choked out, hands going to my tender throat.

He spun back, then understanding came over his face as his gaze went to my neck. “She hurt you.”

I held my throat, unable to stop one tear from slipping free, trailing down my cheek to drop off my chin. I didn’t want to cry because it only made the bruising worse. But there it was.

Closing the door, he stepped inside. “Lie down. I’ll get you some tea.”

“Stay with me,” I whispered, moving to his bed.

The sheets were tangled and smelled like him, a woodsy warmth and comfort that made me want to sink into them and sate my fears. Instead, I lay on my stomach with my cheek on a folded pillow and watched him settle at the edge of the bed, drawing the lamp close. Shadows gathered in the planes of his face, the line of his jaw, the hollow beneath his cheekbone, the corners of his mouth.

I reached for my satchel and pulled out the scroll, removing it from its protective covering. I unrolled it, then lay back, waiting.

Killian did not touch it. Instead, he pulled the light closer and read out loud. On his tongue the words were haunting, the impact different from when I read them. The first section of the scroll was familiar, the spell of awakening, but hearing it from his mouth was like seeing a room from a new perspective.

Time has crumbledinto dust

The glory of the age to rust.

What greatness was, has passed away,

Return to us, we bid thee stay.

Come back to us,shed stone for flesh

Let ancient breath grow new and fresh.

From sky and sea, from ice and sand,