Page 6 of House of the Beast

By this point, I knew that my father was a conceited man, and I wouldn’t care to see him in any seat of power.

But as long as he kept my mother alive, I would do as he requested.

My role in the Pilgrimage would add to his renown; my existence was proof that his blood ran true, that he was fit for the position he coveted.

We stopped before another set of ornate doors. He said to me, “You will learn the sword, obviously, but if you are to represent me, you must also receive the schooling that befits a young woman of your station.”

The room inside was airy and bright, midmorning sun streaming in through the tall, narrow windows.

Elegant green wallpaper and shelves full of books stacked haphazardly lent the space some warmth that was sorely missing from the rest of the estate.

There was a handful of desks, each made of heavy wood, but only two of them were occupied.

It was a classroom. I had never been inside one, but my mother had described them to me.

I looked around with sudden interest. The desk at the front of the room was bigger than the others, and a middle-aged man in a tailored suit and spectacles stumbled away from it to bow before my father at our entrance.

“Lord Zander,” he quavered. “What a—what a pleasant surprise! We were not expecting you to visit.”

“Master Vuong,” my father greeted. He gestured me forward. “This is my daughter, Alma. She has just arrived in Avera and is in need of your fine tutoring.”

Master Vuong fumbled with his glasses, looking alarmed. “Ah. Your daughter, yes. I’d heard the news. How fortunate, to find another vessel for the Beast! Though I’m afraid I’m rather unprepared, as I hadn’t received word from the Antecedent that we would be accommodating a new student—”

“I’m certain you’ll figure something out,” said my father. He turned to me. “I expect you to apply yourself diligently in order to make up for the deficiencies in your knowledge.”

I bristled. “I know how to read,” I said. “I had lessons.”

“No doubt you will impress Master Vuong and me both,” he responded in a tone that made it very clear he expected nothing of the sort. “Stand straight. I shall introduce you to your cousin.”

I glanced at the occupied desks, suddenly shy. In my lonely childhood, I had always wondered what it might be like to have siblings or cousins. So far, my new family didn’t seem too fond of me, but perhaps someone my age would be more accepting.

Two boys sat before me. One of them was slighter, with skin a shade darker than mine and chestnut hair in desperate need of a trim.

One of his eyes was hazel, and the other was slate gray, with heavy scarring around the socket like it had been held to a fire.

When he met my gaze, he didn’t quite smile, but there was a quirk to his mouth that felt friendly.

The boy next to him had pale skin and raven hair.

His left hand was perfectly still, frozen in the middle of turning a page; his right rested upon the desk and was made of black metal like my father’s.

He was maybe a year or two older than me, and his face would have been very handsome—all sharp features and pleasant symmetry—if not for the fact that he was looking at me with utter loathing.

His brows lowered and his eyes, both of them dark gray, narrowed at me like he could burn holes in my skin if he tried hard enough.

My hopes of friendship quickly drained away.

“This,” said my father, “is Kaim. Son of your Uncle Maximus. Like you, he has also been chosen by the Beast. I hope you two will provide for each other a healthy competition.”

“Hello,” I said tentatively.

Kaim did not respond.

This did not seem to concern my father, who cocked his head slightly to survey the other boy.

He did not look like an Avera. I noticed that he was dressed in plain black robes like the attendants I had seen around the estate, whereas my cousin wore a white shirt with sensible trousers and a fancy embroidered vest.

“You must be the new aide,” said my father, and the wariness in his voice surprised me. “I don’t believe I know your name.”

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Kaim had done it for him.

“His name is Fion,” he snapped. “He came here last month.”

For a moment, I thought I saw Fion roll his mismatched eyes.

“Ah,” said my father mildly. “You must be glad for the assistance, Kaim.”

Kaim’s glower darkened, his mouth thin like he was biting back a retort.

“Well!” said Master Vuong tremulously. “How wonderful. We are very glad to have you in the classroom, Alma.”

It clearly wasn’t joy at my presence but fear of my father that made him gesture to the empty desk beside Kaim’s.

My father observed this, pleased. “I expect her to receive an education befitting an Avera, Master Vuong. She must be accomplished and intelligent. Alma—do not let me down. I will come to collect you when class is over.”

He left then, the doors clapping shut behind him with a soft finality. I made my way to the desk that had been given to me, feeling a bit like I was approaching a wild animal. Sure enough, as I drew close, Kaim’s tolerance ran out and he stood, his chair scraping loudly across the floor.

“Master Vuong,” he said. “I don’t believe my cousin should be here.”

“Young Master Kaim,” said Master Vuong, clearly begging for a reprieve. “Your Uncle Zander has asked me to tutor her.”

“He’s a narcissistic cretin,” Kaim answered easily. “Mother hired you to tutor me, the sole heir of House Avera, not”—here he looked at me like I was a bird’s droppings deposited onto his shoulder—“one of Uncle’s mistakes.”

My next breath caught painfully in my throat. I had been called many things, but a mistake was one that hit too close to home. The casual cruelty of it left me frozen to the spot, unable to snap something clever back at this awful boy even though I wanted to.

“Master Kaim!” the teacher exclaimed. “That was rude. You have both been chosen by the Dread Beast, so you should learn how to get along—”

“No. I spend every minute of every day training and studying to be the best of House Avera. Do not compare me to this urchin my uncle has dragged in.” He sneered at me. “She didn’t even realize she was Uncle Zander’s daughter until last week. She probably knows nothing about our House.”

“Yours is the House of the Beast,” I said, finally finding my voice.

Kaim reminded me of the boy back in Merey whose arm I had broken.

Both thought they were better than me because I had been raised only by my mother.

I wasn’t going to stay quiet before such an insult.

“You are protectors of Kugara and experts with the sword. And don’t worry—I wasn’t planning on making friends either. ” Not anymore, at least.

His lips pulled back. “You have some nerve—”

“One should not issue a challenge without the means to back it up, young Master Kaim,” Master Vuong chided gently. “Perhaps you could be the one to enlighten us about Avera’s history.”

Kaim clearly saw the distraction for what it was but seemed too proud to turn the task down. He spared me one more disdainful glare before drawing himself up, face forward and posture straight, the image of the perfect student.

“Our glorious era of elder divinity began five hundred and seventy-two years ago with the dethroning of Symbele II,” he began in a clear voice.

“Commonly dubbed the Despot Queen, she led a vicious regime under which the nation suffered for many long years. It’s believed that she ritualistically tortured and killed her subjects by the thousands in order to tear open the veil between worlds and reveal the elder gods.

But instead of worshipping them, she sought to become one of them.

She wanted to transform into a god herself, going as far—or so some scholars say—as to even lay with them. ”

My face burned upon hearing these words. To suggest that a mortal could lay with a god—I had never heard such a thing. I half-expected him to be struck down by divine powers then and there, but all that happened was Master Vuong squawking, “Kaim!”

“It was in The Terrors of Kugara’s Past ,” Kaim defended readily. “You told me to read it.”

Master Vuong rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I suppose I should expect a young boy to remember only the most sordid of details. Go on.”

“The umbral plane was discovered then,” Kaim continued, “but the noble Houses of Metia, Avera, Goldmercy, and the House of Healing knew such power in the hands of a tyrant would spell certain doom. In secret, they made their own pacts with the elder gods, who shared a common goal—the Heavenseer, the Dread Beast, the Odious Tinkerer, and the Weeping Lady. The Houses asked to be used as their vessels. In exchange, they would pledge their people to the gods’ eternal worship, their prayers feeding them in place of their pain. ”

My gaze wandered down to an arm that wasn’t there. I had offered no prayers yet. Perhaps despite this pact, I thought bitterly, it was my pain that had drawn the Beast’s attention.

“Together, they successfully overthrew the Despot Queen, and her dark knowledge was laid to rest,” Kaim continued, his gray eyes flicking toward me.

“The Four Houses then became the founders of a new Kugara.

House Goldmercy, scions of the Odious Tinkerer, rule the province to the west. The House of Healing, now known as the Church of the Weeping Lady, watches over the capital of Sorrowsend, and they choose their vessels not by bloodline but through strength of faith.

House Metia, blessed by the Heavenseer, closed the tear between worlds by constructing the umbral gate, and are the only ones who can control its workings.