Page 56 of House of the Beast

The last Dreadguard had been too shocked to fall into a proper defensive stance. Panicked, he threw up a hand to protect himself. The worm latched itself onto his wrist.

Without thinking, I brought my sword forward in a swift sweep and hacked his arm off.

The Dreadguard fell back against the wall with a howl.

I faced the captain with my sword now gripped in both hands, and almost reached out to Aster again before stopping.

He had ordered me to kill these men. But I was afraid that if I felt that murderous, vindictive glee that had overtaken me while butchering Olissa Goldmercy’s household staff, it would only drive me to doubt him.

Hoping my monster hadn’t noticed my hesitation, I swooped forward and cleaved clean through both the worm and the captain’s head.

The top half of his face flew off to land with a wet thunk on the ground.

With its source of terror gone, the worm fell still.

I waited, sword held ready and dripping with blood.

I hoped I had taken it down before it could spread much further.

The first guard, Neele, must have had them latch onto him as soon as he stepped through.

He probably would have attributed the nausea and discomfort to nerves, and by the time he spoke up, the worms had already spread through his system and grown large enough to wriggle out.

I watched the corpses carefully for any other sign of movement.

Part of my mind supplied the fact that the sounds of distant battle had faded away.

Whatever the others had been fighting was likely long gone.

There was no resounding cheer to announce anyone’s triumph, so I could only hope that the star had fled somewhere to nurse its wounds while I had been distracted.

There was a pitiful whimper to my right.

Seeing no other signs of life from the two worm-infested bodies, I turned to face the last Dreadguard, now sagging slightly against the wall.

His eyes slid from his mutilated companions to me slowly, like he was scared something might happen to him if he moved too fast. His expression was one of abject shock, and he looked ghastly under the pale starlight.

Blood flowed freely from the severed stump of his right arm.

The sight of it triggered something in me. A memory of another guard, standing in the dark with his blood splashing onto the ground. Before I knew it, I was tugging the belt off one of the corpses, and then approaching my father’s soldier.

“Hold out your arm,” I ordered tersely. He did it without protest, and I quickly strapped the belt tight around what was left of his forearm, hoping to stem the flow. He was shaking slightly, and obviously trying hard not to succumb to the same fear that had taken his friends.

In contrast, I felt—alive. Intoxicated, even without connecting to my god. The two terror-infested souls I had just snuffed out had filled me with an energy that I had never felt before.

I could see why the court hadn’t wanted my uncle to come in here.

The belt was cinched tight. The guard was working hard to keep his breathing slow and steady and didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger of turning.

“Alma,” said Aster behind me. “He’s not going to last long.”

I knew what he really meant. However little ichor there was in umbral mind worms, taking down the other two Dreadguard had indubitably filled my monster with more power. Aster wanted me to let the guard succumb and then kill him too.

“We agreed not to kill anyone we didn’t have to,” I answered, checking that the belt was fastened tight enough.

The flow of blood had turned sluggish—but he would still die if we didn’t get him help, fast. “There’s a chance that he survives this.

Can you find your own way back to my father? ” I asked the guard.

He stared at me, no doubt confused about who else I had been talking to.

“Really?” said Aster disbelievingly. “Even this guy? He wanted to hurt you.”

“You promised,” I said, whipping around to face him.

Aster blinked at my sudden ferocity, and then sighed.

Here on the umbral plane, light seemed to seep from his very core.

The darkness around us didn’t touch him; instead, the white of his robes and the silver of his hair soaked in the starlight.

He planted his hands on his hips and looked up at the heavens as if for fortitude, defeated.

“I did, didn’t I? Damn it, being nice is awful . ”

“Aster,” I said.

“What?” He pouted at me.

“Thank you.”

His eyes went wide. Then his entire countenance softened, as if he hadn’t been whining and wheedling mere seconds ago.

Embarrassed, I turned back to the Dreadguard. “Where is my father?”

The Dreadguard looked at me, startled, then around me slowly like he would find someone else hiding there.

When all I did was stare back, waiting for his answer, he cleared his throat shakily and said, “Lord Zander pursued the fallen star with everyone else, but... his plans initially were to head west.”

West. The wilderness, and the Pyres. I could not help but think what they had been used for, all those centuries ago.

Euphina’s suspicions were looking more likely by the second.

But I doubted I could traverse those untamed lands with an injured man in tow, and I couldn’t send him to go find my father alone either.

He was a thread away from losing his mind.

Chances were, if left alone now in this dark, terrible world, he wouldn’t last more than five minutes.

Damn it.

I sheathed my sword and hauled him up from the wall by the front of his uniform, then gave him a shove to get him moving.

“Come on,” I said, falling into step beside him. “We’ll find someone to heal you.”