Page 71 of Greed of Giants

He nodded, eyes watery. Turning to me, he bowed his head. At last, I’d been recognized by someone who wasn’t trying to kill me.

“The world burns,” he said. “Heal us.”

“I will,” I vowed.

But it was Ilaris who stepped forward. “Will you help us? We need to get back to the ruins. We have the gifts of the gods, we will seal the gates.”

“Run,” Ben said.

A moment later I felt it, vibration through the soles of my feet, the low drumbeat of hooves still distant but growing closer. “They’ve found us,” I said.

“Who?” Ilaris’s eyes went wide.

“The Four.”

Ilaris dropped her satchel, yanked it open, and rummaged inside. She lifted out her journal, her life’s work, notes, sketches, annotated maps, runes, translations, all that was most precious to her, and approached Ben. “Take this. It’s everything, documented. Do with it what you will.”

His hands shook as he took it, and pressed it to his heart, as though he understood the full measure of what she had surrendered. I stood there, struck silent, heat banking low beneath my skin. When she turned to me, her eyes were glassy but dry. She picked up her satchel, now empty except for the three gifts of the gods.

“I’m ready,” she whispered.

She’d never looked more beautiful. The sea wind moved through her braids. The salt-smell of the water still clung to us both, and the sky above had gone a deep violet, pressing against the horizon. She had given up the thingshe loved most, and she had not wept over it. I did not know what to call what moved through me then, grief edged with reverence, but I felt it down to the bone.

Jasper shifted his form, and we mounted. He carried us in a blur of shadow down the shoreline, his footfalls drumming against packed sand. Behind us the darkness thickened, not only the dust cloud of pursuit but something older, something in the sky and sea, an impending storm brewing on the horizon, as though the end had come.

A sharp wind blew. In the distance, thunder cracked. White lightning split the horizon. When I looked toward the mountains, black smoke rose, slow and deliberate.

Ilaris let out her breath with a sharp hiss, bringing my attention back to what lay in front of us. The dock came into view, newly rebuilt from where it had burned down months ago. The wood was still fresh, the scent of cedar in the air. Boats bobbed in the choppy waters, bouncing on their ropes, and Harlan stood on the dock, arms crossed.

Harlan. The first Guardian to oppose us. Fire sang under my skin. Jasper growled, but Harlan threw up both hands.

“I came to take you across,” he shouted.

“Why?” I shouted back.

“Someone called Castor paid me a visit, told me you were coming.”

Prince Castor. Would he become the sole surviving giant, left to pick up the pieces of a lost civilization, and lead the mortals to greatness?

“What made you change your mind?” Ilaris asked Harlan as we climbed into the boat.

“I’ve kept guard of these shores for decades.” Harlan untied the rope and dipped the oars into the water. Instead of the waves fighting him, they appeared to calm to let us through. “But the things that come out of the holes in the ground are nightmares. They only come at night, and they attack. I have no name for them. At first, I thought the two of you were responsible. Then word came from the city, trains stopped running, and we received messages that they were everywhere. Widespread attacks. Vicious creatures that came at night. Then the fires started burning. That strange man flew out of the sky and told me you were coming to save us, to stop this.”

I stared at the waves, recalling Numen’s words. The truth. “I caused it,” I admitted, facing Harlan. “Thousands of years ago, I opened a door that should have stayed shut, and I unleashed the horrors of the world. My people managed to shut the door, but it was too late. I am the reason for the Great Sundering. The end of the giants. Every creature that crawls out of the ground at night traces back to me.”

“I woke him,” Ilaris blurted. “I woke Prince Killian. Fire Giant. I read from a scroll I had no business reading, and the seals began to fail. We’ve been traveling together to find the gifts of the gods. We go to seal the gates, once and for all.”

Harlan was quiet for a moment. Then he snorted as though our admission of guilt did not surprise him. “You both want to shoulder the whole of it, don’t you? Young fools, the pair of you.” He pulled hard on the oars. “Yes, you acted. Yes, your actions led to devastation. But this was always going to happen. Why do you think the Guardians exist? We were made for this day, to hold the line as long aswe could. You didn’t cause this alone, you only arrived at the hour it became impossible to ignore.”

“You’ll have to stop them first,” I said, pointing at the shore.

Harlan let out a curse and rowed faster.

Ilaris gripped the sides of the boat, eyes wide as she stared.

The Four had arrived.

They were but a legend, horsemen who came to rid the world of evil. They awoke at the end of time to unmake what had gone wrong, and now they stood at the waterline, their mounts’ eyes glowing. Each horse was a different color, one red, one white, one black, one pale as ash, fiery swords burning in their gauntleted hands. Their heads were skull-like, hands taloned, and they urged their horses forward into the surf without hesitation.