Page 27 of Greed of Giants

Teeth sank into my shoulder, clamping down hard. Making a fist, I punched at the creature, but it didn’t budge. I punched again, found a soft eye, and smashed my fist into it. A high-pitched scream came as the creature released me.

There, retreating into a dark tunnel, was the thing that had taken Ilaris. Her hair floated above her, eyes closed, arms spread. Unconscious. Time ticked. I kicked out, wrapping one arm around her. Counting the moments that passed. I was larger than mortals, could hold my breath much longer, and here in the water was my only opportunity to touch her without fear of burning her skin. Once we were on shore, my skin exposed to the air where I could catch fire, I wouldn’t be able to help her.

She was heavy in my arms, waterlogged. A tentacle was wrapped around her leg, squeezing. Bruising. Punching it would do nothing. Then my fingers brushed something solid around Ilaris’s waist. A knife. Unsheathing it, I struck out, hacking at the tentacle until it shriveled away. A hissing came, words filling my mind as thecreature spoke.

The blood oath is set. It requires vengeance. It requires blood. We demand tribute if you seek truth.

They would harm or help, depending on what I promised them. It was always the case, no one made deals unless it benefited them, their people.Name your terms.I demanded.

Blood for blood. Mortal for immortal. Life for life.

Knife in hand, I swam for the surface, focused on reaching shore without any more mishaps. I had time to weigh the terms of the bargain, but when I woke Numen, he would ask for a decision. After all, the sea was his domain. I didn’t have enough power to force myself through an army. Not yet.

At the surface, I floated Ilaris on her back so she had exposure to the air while I swam us silently past the burning dock, the fire sweeping up the hill. The people had mobilized, working hard to put out the fire, which crept toward the village. Seeing the flames licking the sky only made me angrier. I should have burned the island to the ground before we’d left. I’d been forced to show my hand, though, and the best plan of action would be to get as far away from the fallout as possible.

A bark pulled my attention to a grove of trees, just off the shore. Jasper waited, sodden bags at his feet. Magic glimmered around him. He had grown much bigger now, shifting his shape to full size, as large as a horse. So he wasn’t too young to shape-shift. Ilaris would have a few surprises when she woke.

I dragged her ashore and thumped her chest until she started coughing, spitting up water. She breathed, eyes groggy. Her clothes, not meant for swimming, were soddenthrough and through. I should have averted my eyes, but all gentlemanliness had left me. Her sides were bruised, bloated, some of the skin crusted over, healing. She’d been hurt by something. An accident? It was recent.

But not my concern.

I laid her on Jasper’s back and shouldered the bags, checking to ensure the scroll was there. It was the most important thing.

There, on shore, it all came rushing back, the network of life. The rise and fall of the hills, mountains, the slope of the land, the pull of gravity. Underneath the layers of years it felt like an old friend greeting me. I felt the shift in it, but in the distance pulsed a heartbeat I recognized. First. The Verdant Maw. It would be the easiest, I expected, then the sky, ice, and finally, water.

13

Ilaris

My lungs were twin brands, each breath a rasp of salt-stung air scraping through my body. I couldn’t tell if the heat came from within or from whatever I lay upon. Something warm and breathing, fur soft beneath torn clothes. Cold air touched my face, but my limbs felt heavy, my eyes unable to fully open, my body burning with the memory of drowning, of water forcing its way in where only air should be.

The thing beneath me stopped, and I rolled off with a groan, catching myself against earth that smelled of moss and decay, so different from the sea. My fingers dug into loam, into the small stones hidden in soil, anchoring myself to solid ground. Not water, not drowning, not the dark pulling me under.

Rolling onto my back, I forced my eyes open. Green was everywhere. Oak trees towered above me, their leaves a canopy against pale sky. Birds called to each other, windstirred the branches. I blinked, trying to reconcile the forest with the last thing I remembered.

Something wet and warm nuzzled my neck.

Blurred vision cleared, revealing Jasper. He’d grown. Impossible yet undeniable. What had been a small creature I could carry was now the size of a hunting hound, his fur still midnight black but his body bigger, stronger, his horns longer, dangerous enough to skewer a small beast. Had I been riding him? The thought was absurd, he wasn’t big enough, or strong enough, yet. . .

“You’re bigger,” I whispered, testing out my raw voice. My throat hurt as though it had been squeezed.

Jasper huffed, then settled beside me, the warmth of him comforting.

Then I saw Killian.

He stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his bare chest, bronzed skin catching the dappled light that filtered through the leaves. Still half-dressed, all that carved muscle and ancient power on display. The bags lay at his feet, somehow salvaged from the wreck. But it was his sculpted face that caught and held me. The careful blankness of it, even though his jaw was set as though he’d been standing there a long time, watching me breathe.

When his eyes met mine, something in them shifted. Was it relief? Some other tension he’d been holding.

Memories crashed over me in fragments. Harlan shouting in another language, Killian’s fire turning the world to flame in a blaze of gold. I’d been trying to escape, but I’d ended up in the water.

“You nearly drowned,” Killian said. The words were matter-of-fact, obvious, but it was the tone that carried tomy ears. A haunting pause. A new roughness, as though the words had cost him something to speak. As though?—

As though he’d been afraid.

But no. He only needed me for the blood oath, to awaken the other giants. That was the extent of his concern. That was all it could be. Yet I couldn’t stop the yearning that swept through me, the hunger for connection, concern, and care.

I sat up slowly, and pain laced through my left leg.