Page 20 of House of the Beast

In the space of that moment, Kaim flashed forward with all the ferocity of a bolt of lightning. Next thing I knew, his sword was impaled through the Thing’s heart, the hilt of it pushed up against its dead flesh, the tip erupting out of its back to gleam in the firelight.

“Kaim Avera passes the trial,” said the Cardinal.

The temple broke into applause. The Meister spoke to her Thing again, and it straightened back into a neutral, ready stance. Kaim yanked his blade out of its chest, even as the flesh was already stitching back together.

In the midst of all this excitement, Fion had fallen to the ground unnoticed. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his shoulders heaved as he tried to get air back into his lungs.

“Poor thing,” Aster cooed. “They’ll make him keep giving until he crumbles away.”

I watched Kaim approach him. They spoke briefly.

Kaim reached down his hand. Fion looked at it for a long moment.

He did not seem to want to take it. But with all the eyes in the temple on them, refusing my cousin was akin to a death sentence.

After another long moment, he allowed Kaim to pull him to his feet.

They began to walk away.

“Your turn,” Aster whispered, now close to my ear.

My heart was suddenly beating so fast I could feel it in my throat. The Cardinal was approaching the altar again while the Meister led her Thing away.

Soon he would make another grand speech, and the envoys would go back to Sorrowsend.

Aster’s hand was a weight on my back, pushing me gently forward. “One chance. You’ve been waiting eight years for this.”

Eight years. The whole of my life after the brightness had left it. Eight years of rage, waiting for the day I could finally reap what my father had sown. I took a deep breath. Then I slipped around my father and into the ring.

“Alma,” my father hissed, “what are you—”

I could feel more than see him reaching out to stop me, but I made sure my steps were quicker than he could catch.

“Antecedent,” the Cardinal was saying as he approached.

“Zander Avera, Second Hand of the Beast, and Kaim Avera, Fifth Hand of the Beast, have both proved themselves worthy of the gift they wield. We are pleased to welcome them to participate in the Pilgrimage. The Council thanks House Avera for their two offerings, and shall—”

“The offerings are not complete,” I called out.

The temple froze. Everyone watched in silence as I strode into the center of the ring, stopping right before the Cardinal, who was giving me a look between incredulity and scorn.

“One more for the trial,” I said.

My father’s voice behind me was strangled. “What,” he repeated, “are you doing?”

For a moment, I did not know. I’d never had so much open bewilderment and contempt directed my way by so many people.

The noblemen on the upper balconies were whispering to one another in consternation.

I spotted Sevelie among them, her eyes wide as saucers.

Darantha looked ready to fly across the temple to throttle me.

I blinked, and then there was Aster, standing just behind the Cardinal, unseen by everyone but myself. He nodded.

This was his plan. I had to trust in that.

I unsheathed my sword and brought the blade before my face as I’d seen my father do. “I, Alma Avera, Sixth Hand of the Dread Beast, submit myself to trial for the Pilgrimage,” I announced. Then I swung the blade forward in a challenge, pointing it directly at the Meister and her Thing.

“Get her out of there,” my father snarled. “Guards! Take her back to—”

“I am of the blood,” I said, raising my voice and cutting him off. “I have a right to challenge.”

“You are out of line.” He stepped forward to address the Cardinal, a pleasant smile slithering onto his face. “Please excuse my daughter. She is to be part of my retinue and must be overly excited by the battle. You know how that affects vessels of the Beast.”

I took a breath to steady myself. Here it was, the moment I would make an enemy of all of Avera. The moment I would embrace all the rumors of my madness.

All for the sake of revenge.

I glanced toward Aster one more time. We’d prepared the next part together, and he nodded encouragingly for me to go on as planned.

“My father is unworthy,” I announced, my voice carrying through the temple.

“He cares only for his own ambition, not Avera’s future.

And my cousin has never heard the Beast as clearly as I.

But the Beast has spoken to me, and now I am here to do as He bids—to honor Avera’s pact with the harbinger of death and destruction, to truly celebrate the Dread Beast’s splendor the way they cannot.

I will enter the Pilgrimage and bring glory to House Avera. ”

Rage and confusion rippled through the crowd. The temple was suddenly a mass of voices, some whispering to their neighbors, others shouting for my removal. How dare I, a mere bastard, insult my lord father and cousin? Who was I to demean their precious masters?

Aster had told me that if I wanted the court to take me seriously, I would need to play by their rules.

More Avera Pilgrims meant that either our House was divided and weakened or it was our strategy to separate and sweep the umbral plane so that no other House could take the glory.

The court would be suspicious, but they were more deeply religious than political.

If I could convince them that I was truly a messenger of an elder god, a mad child consumed by the Beast’s power, the court would have to agree that this was my duty.

I needed to silence their doubts, so decisively that nobody could deny my connection to the Beast.

After this trial, I would earn my right to travel to Sorrowsend, and no one could take it from me. It was my first step toward slaying the fallen star—after which everything my father had ever wanted would be in my hands.

My father’s smile disappeared, leaving only fury. “You do not have permission to be here,” he roared. “You are an embarrassment to your family, and you will sheathe your weapon and walk away right this instant!”

The Goldmercy Meister watched me with a considering, watery eye. “Young Avera,” she said slowly. “Your father believes you unready. My Thing does not know mercy and will destroy you without a thought if this is true. Walk away.”

I tilted my chin so that I was peering down my nose at the Meister. “It can try,” I said. “But if it had trouble holding its own against my second-rate father and pampered cousin, I’m not too worried.”

“Well done.” Aster hummed.

The Meister froze. Though the House of the Tinkerer had officially agreed to lend their power to the trial, I was willing to bet that it stung Hellen Goldmercy to let her Thing get beaten up to the cheers of a rival household.

And here I was in all my insolence, staring her down like I wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of her god-given gifts.

In the midst of all the chaos, the Cardinal had stepped forward.

“Alma Avera,” he said, seeming to mull my name over.

The temple fell silent as everyone awaited his verdict.

My pulse had not stopped beating an almost painful rhythm against my ribs.

Aster had always said I had a soft heart.

To be at the center of all this scrutiny, this hatred, went against the deepest, most childish parts of me that had wanted to find friends here, or a loving family.

But I knew that those opportunities were gone, if they had ever existed. Maybe they would have liked me better if I had been born quiet, an obedient child who acquiesced to all their wants. Someone who cared not for the hurts they had inflicted upon me.

A reassuring hand was slipped into my own, flesh against metal.

I kept my chin high, defiant and unyielding.

With Aster beside me, grinning so boldly and his fingers linked with mine, I could almost believe that I truly was the chosen one—the prophet led by her god to greater things.

I was going to do this trial, and the Cardinal was going to grant me my place.

“This is very unorthodox, Lady Avera,” said Cardinal Lorn. “You realize this, do you not? You are interrupting a sacred trial. You have not spoken to the court of this desire to join the Pilgrimage before today, but you claim yourself worthy?”

I had not spoken to the court because I could not give my father a chance to stop me, but I couldn’t exactly say that out loud.

“Crotchety old man,” said Aster with a sniff, placing a hand on his hip as if offended. “Tell him that a god does not have to wait for his turn to speak.”

“Gods do not wait their turn to speak,” I repeated boldly, glancing at Aster as I added, “I do what my patron tells me, and he tells me to challenge.”

My monster’s expression sharpened with pleasure. “Tell them you will prove yourself right now.”

“If you still doubt my dedication, let me prove myself right here.”

The Cardinal considered me at length, his gaze quiet and shrewd despite the tension sweeping through the temple.

I kept my back straight, playing the proud zealot, but I could not help wondering what he thought as he regarded me.

Clergy in the Court of Divine Hearers were not vessels of the elder gods; rather, they were not beholden to any one god, precisely because they were responsible for keeping the Four Houses in check.

Would he be able to see through my ruse?

Or did I appear as pious and as mad as my Uncle Maximus?

Finally, the Cardinal gave a slow nod.

“You are of the blood,” he said, echoing my earlier words. “You have a right to challenge.”

The temple erupted into chaos again—some people indignant, others simply curious for the show ahead—as he retreated from the ring, gesturing for the Meister to take her place.

“Fine,” I heard my father snarl. “Let her humiliate herself. Perhaps she will finally learn her lesson.”

“That Thing will gut her like she deserves,” Darantha hissed.

“The Avera girl believes herself capable,” the Meister said. “Let us see if she is worthy of the gift she bears.”

It had worked. My shoulders relaxed from the stiff, proud posture I had been holding only briefly as I quickly realized what came next.

It was time to prove myself—and I knew for certain no one would accept me, not after such callous words, unless I forced their respect by fighting better than both my father and cousin.

I allowed myself a moment of panic, looking to Aster for help.

He did not look worried—not one bit. Instead, his eyes were bright and crinkling with cheer.

“You did it,” he said, pride ringing in his voice. “Now for the easy part.”