Page 62 of House of the Beast

I answered, “I had a vision of your men fighting Iloise Goldmercy. I thought I’d make sure you were all right.”

“You thought I couldn’t handle House Goldmercy by myself?” he snapped, silencing a screeching terror by driving his blade through its skull. Its long, toothed beak clacked together and then went silent.

“I didn’t say that,” I snarled.

“You sure as hell implied it,” he sniped back, and then ordered, “Duck.”

I ducked. His sword went singing over my head and cleaved through a small, wasplike terror that had decided to take its chances with me.

I surged upward in its wake and fended off the mimic’s next blow, then repaid the favor by spinning on my heel and lopping another terror’s head off as it leaped toward my cousin’s neck.

In turn, he slipped smoothly into the space I had left open and began his own duel with the mimic.

It was shockingly easy, learning to fight with Kaim. We had both studied Avera swordcraft, dedicated years of our lives to it. I found that I trusted him to know where to move, which attacks to dodge and which openings to take. I had never trusted anyone like this before—only Aster.

I had to wonder what things would have been like if my cousin and I had trained to fight with, instead of against, each other.

Footsteps pounded behind us, and more figures in black leaped into the fray.

Kaim’s men. A familiar voice—Fion’s—called out my cousin’s name.

As if my cousin were taking strength from it, his swordwork became sharper, even more brutal.

The horde of terrors thinned, one by one. Soon, there was only the mimic left.

As if realizing this as well, the mimic let out a shrill noise of rage. Its movements turned erratic as it tried to fend off half a dozen soldiers at once. A wide swing of its stone sword left it open, and I lurched forward to hew its arm from its body.

Shadows spilled from its wound like blood. It shrieked once more, so loud it stopped me in my tracks as my head rang. Its shape began to pulse in and out, like a pair of lungs gasping for air. Then all at once, it burst into a mass of dark, writhing limbs, grasping at us all.

The Dreadguard moved to attack, but it slithered between their blades like gelatin, and then it wrapped one long tendril around a man’s arm and squeezed. There was the horrible crunch of bone and the man screamed.

I barely dodged a flailing limb as it tried to grab at me. The mimic was no longer made of stone or flesh, but we had cornered it, and that made it angry. Its form changed from one blink of an eye to the other. That horrible scraping voice resounded through my head once again.

You think this will end me, little god? said the mimic. I will destroy your vessel and become king .

“Alma,” Aster barked. “Kill this thing now.”

Clarity shot into my mind, illuminating the thread of its life, ready to be cut.

I could feel Aster’s hatred for the mimic as if it were my own, white-hot and setting my whole world ablaze—and through it, that same awful, vindictive elation that had overtaken me in the abandoned school as Olissa Goldmercy’s blood had soaked into my skin.

It was only a split second, but that was enough to make me balk. The connection between us severed and left me reeling. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my cousin preparing to strike, ready to cut the mimic down in my stead.

I made the decision then. The mimic was old, cunning. It had likely been here in the umbral plane for millennia, hiding and feeding until it became strong enough to come after us. Killing it would grant me power enough to kill the fallen star.

But I could give it to Kaim. I had never seen eye to eye with my cousin, but I found that I did not want to have to fight him.

Against all odds, we had managed to work together just now, and it had lit a spark of hope inside me that I never dared acknowledge before.

Maybe, like with Sevelie, and like with the Dreadguard, we could find a way to coexist.

So I drew back from my connection with Aster, and let Kaim move first.

“Alma?” said my monster, disbelieving.

It was already too late to change my mind. With blinding speed, Kaim swooped forward under a swiping limb, then with a flash of black metal drove his sword into the darkness above him.

I felt something inside it tremble under his blade.

The mimic squealed and writhed, but my cousin did not relent.

He heaved his sword through its mass, dragging his blade through it until it burst out of its side.

Shadowy ichor spilled from its gaping wound into the ground.

There was so much power there—and it all seeped into my cousin, for taking the life of this ancient terror.

The mimic gurgled, shaking horribly, and then it slid like oil into the water of a nearby canal and dissipated.

Kaim, too, collapsed to the ground, gasping.

“My lord!” called half a dozen of his men, rushing to his aid.

He lifted a hand to hold them off. Only one ignored him.

Fion, his face gray and sheened with sweat.

Belatedly, I realized that my cousin’s efforts must have taken a toll out of him as well.

Despite this, he slung one of Kaim’s arms over his shoulder and hauled him to his feet.

“Kaim,” Fion said. “Are you all right?”

The question puzzled me. If anything, I would have been more worried for Fion, whose arm was wrapped in a makeshift sling. But as it took my cousin longer and longer to answer, I realized Fion was not asking about his physical state at all.

Kaim had just slaughtered a dozen terrors. He was overflowing with ichor.

“Kaim!” Fion said again, more sharply.

Kaim shook his head as if to clear it. His breathing gradually slowed. He looked dazedly at the canal water as it settled into stillness once again. His eyes sharpened as if remembering where he was.

I finally looked at my monster then. Aster was already watching me. His eyes were wide. He looked almost hurt.

My heart froze. He had felt it, the moment I pulled away.

It was nothing like our usual teasing, where I would sometimes pretend not to hear my monster, and he would wheedle at me, and we would take it all in good humor.

This time, I had gone against his will—and I could tell that it mattered.

I had thought that any vessel of the Beast could kill the mimic in his name, and he would be glad for it regardless. Clearly, I had made a mistake.

I noticed then that he wasn’t glowing any brighter. Not like when I had butchered the other terrors for him.

Kaim’s offerings did not matter.

I had no time to contemplate this. As soon as he got his feet under him, Kaim fixed his eyes on mine, blazing.

“Now that it’s dead,” he said, “we’ll deal with you.”