Page 64 of House of the Beast

By now my sole focus was on staying alive.

With every passing second, the monster inside Kaim seemed to grow, like a shadow had taken hold of him and flooded his senses with nothing but its hunger.

There was something about this power that felt unrecognizable to me; it did not feel like Aster’s familiar, bright presence, and I could not parse it; I could not win against it.

“Aster!” I called, desperation driving me to touch my mind to his just for a moment.

In that split second, I could sense exactly where to cut in order to end Kaim’s life—but no, I didn’t want to do that.

I didn’t want him to die. I aimed instead at his right rotator cuff, hoping to incapacitate his flesh arm.

My cousin’s blade surged up to meet mine and shoved it away with enough strength to jar me from that state of focus.

Of course. With Fion’s sight, there was no way he would fall for anything less than a killing blow delivered by my Beast. The clarity I needed to win the fight disappeared with the ringing of my head. Then I was left open and vulnerable.

This was the end.

Kaim moved to pursue the opening he had made—only to suddenly double over, clutching at his head. He let out a ragged scream.

“Aster?” said a tremulous voice. “Is that your name?”

I turned. Fion was looking at me—or rather, at the white-robed shadow that had appeared beside me. In his hands he held a bloody lump of—something.

It took me a moment to realize that his left eye was missing.

There was nothing there but a gaping socket.

Blood trickled slowly down his cheek in stark contrast against his ashen skin.

It must have been horrifically painful, but his shoulders were set, determined.

He had torn out his connection to Kaim and was holding it aloft like an offering.

“Is this enough of an exchange?” he asked my monster. “It’s not quite what they took, but it’s the closest I can give.”

Kaim had staggered away to go throw up into a nearby canal, but now he dragged himself back upright, eyes wide and horrified. “Fion, no—”

My monster approached the offering. He stopped a few steps away, addressing Fion like a lord before a prostrate follower.

“I suppose that will do.”

Fion gave him a mordant bow, then let his bloodied eye fall onto my monster’s palm.

Aster lifted it up to examine. His fingers gripped the slippery organ securely, blood and viscera still dripping, as he turned it one way, and then another. Then—he opened his mouth, jaw unhinging like the great maw of his statue in the Avera temple, and swallowed it.

The eye on his forehead, the one that had always remained closed, flew open.

My ears rang with shrill, terrible song.

It set my entire world ablaze. I gripped my sword in my left hand, felt Aster’s power flow through me.

There it was—that trajectory of light. I let it pull through my blade like lightning, like the flaming tail of a falling star.

Kaim hauled himself bodily upright, his legs shaking, leaning hard on his sword.

Even in his agony, he wasn’t going to let me off easy.

He came at me again with all the abandon of a man with nothing to lose.

But he was shaky now, his movements weak.

At the last second, I veered away from the draw of his death. I felt his blade slice into my torso, but not deep enough to be worrying. My own blade went forward, up, guided not by that divine power but by my own hand.

Kaim’s right arm—the one hosting his metal hand—flew off, severed from his body. It landed some feet away, still holding his sword, clattering dully as it met the hard ground.

My cousin gasped. Blood sprayed hotly from his wound. I had cut him close to the shoulder to get to his unarmored flesh and cleave away his point of connection to the Beast. He collapsed to his knees, eyes wide. He looked younger somehow. All the fight had gone out of him at once.

I lowered my sword, panting.

Fion staggered almost on all fours over to him, blood still oozing down one side of his face. He seated himself before my cousin and brought a careful hand up to cup the side of his jaw. His fingertips left smudges of red on my cousin’s skin, but neither of them seemed to care.

“Kaim?” he said tentatively. “Is it over?”

Kaim looked at him as if dazed. After a moment, he gave a small laugh.

“It’s quiet,” he said.

“You should’ve listened to me, you stubborn ass,” chided Fion—but it was fond.

Around them, the Dreadguard drew closer, hovering and unsure.

They seemed confused that the fight had ended, and that it was me who had triumphed.

A couple of them looked half-ready to draw their own swords and challenge me on their beloved lord’s behalf.

I pointedly looked away from them—and my gaze snagged on my monster, still watching me with a baleful turn to his mouth.

The third eye on his forehead blinked once, twice.

I wanted to ask him what had happened. Why he had taken Fion’s eye, and for what purpose. But with a rueful smile he said, “I see now. How it must be done. We’ll talk later, Alma.”

And then he was simply gone.

I stood there as loss and guilt crashed down on me. Had I driven him away again? Had I finally depleted the last of his patience?

Or had he felt, the moment we connected, that he made me afraid?

I had no time to dwell on this. Kaim turned his disgruntled gaze on me. “What am I supposed to do now?” he said. I braced myself, ready for another attack, but it did not come. He seemed content to simply grumble at me from afar.

“First, let’s get you bandaged up,” said Fion, already ripping off the hem of his robes. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

I watched as my cousin allowed himself to be wrapped up and then helped to his feet by his nervous Dreadguard.

They looked unsure whether to finish me off in Kaim’s stead or to take this newly mellowed version of their lord in stride.

The latter sentiment seemed to win out as Kaim got to his feet and glowered at me sullenly, almost like a child.

“Well?” he said, still haughty despite everything. “You’ve ruined my chances at this Pilgrimage and thrown my hard work for the past twenty years down the drain. What do you want now?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and really meant it.

I wished we hadn’t had to fight—it had eaten up precious time that could have been used to either track the fallen star or stop my father.

And now Aster was gone, leaving me afraid to embark upon my hunt again by myself.

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. I’m not sure what to do now. ”

My voice threatened to wobble as the truth of my own words hit me. It had been an exhausting day. I felt as though I had made all the wrong decisions, and now that it was time to return properly to the task of stopping my father, I was alone.

Fion, who was rubbing soothing circles on Kaim’s back, looked at me with a sort of understanding in his eye. He had seen Aster. He knew, too, that my god had left.

“Why don’t we go to Lord Carnus?” he suggested to Kaim. “We need to get your arm looked at. And I’m sure everyone can use some rest.”

“Don’t forget about your eye,” Kaim groused, as if that wasn’t further proving Fion’s point.

“Exactly,” said Fion, and then met my gaze again. There was that knowing look—the one he always seemed to give me, like he knew more than he let on. “You should come with us, Alma. House Metia will have an encampment set up and you’ll be safe for the night.”

I was prepared to announce my own departure so I could try and find Aster and go back to our task, but at Fion’s expression, my thoughts began to race.

He was clearly trying to give me a clue about something again, and I knew better than to underestimate him by now.

He’d invited me to see Lord Carnus with them—Lord Carnus, leader of House Metia and member of the court. Keeper of the umbral gate.

As I had said to Aster—if anyone knew what my father was looking for, it would be him.

He understood all the workings of the umbral plane.

He could tell me about them and set me back on track.

It might not be as efficient a plan as killing the Wanderer of Still Waters, but it could give me the advantage I had been seeking, and I could prove to Aster that I hadn’t forgotten what we came here for.

Perhaps I could salvage this situation after all.

“I’d be delighted to,” I informed them grimly.

Fion smiled and Kaim nodded, apparently much more welcoming now that we were no longer in competition for the same thing. But before my cousin set off, he turned to his men.

He bowed.

“I apologize for failing you all,” he said to them. “You put your faith in me, and I have let it go to waste. Forgive me.”

His Dreadguard looked startled. Then, hastily, they all bowed in return.

“Lord Kaim,” one of them stammered. “There is no need to apologize to us.”

“There is no one else we would rather serve.”

Kaim straightened. “From the depths of my heart, I thank you.”

Then he dutifully began to lead them, some still looking lost at this sudden change of pace, down the canal. He jerked his head at me, beckoning me to follow. When I caught up to him, he said, “So, why does Fion want you to meet my uncle?”

I stared at him. He had surprised me with his perceptiveness once again.

Fion only laughed. I gave my surroundings a surreptitious sweep, seeking reassurance from Aster before I told my cousin anything—but he was still nowhere to be seen.

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my heart, I started, “My father,” and then paused, wondering how to best convey everything I wanted to say about the man I had spent the past eight years hating.

“He’s looking for something here in the umbral plane, and he’ll hurt people to get it.

That’s likely why Iloise Goldmercy attacked you—they were working together.

Since Lord Carnus is the keeper of the umbral gate, I think he can tell me what my father wants. ”

Kaim hummed thoughtfully. “And I suppose you’re trying to stop him?”

“You already knew I was here for revenge. But it’s not just that. He’s going to put all of Kugara at risk. Euphina believes he seeks the key to godhood.”

Some of the Dreadguard behind us began to mutter among themselves.

I wondered how my cousin would react, if he would call me delusional, for suggesting such a thing.

He, too, had grown up around my father, and known of his ambitions to lead House Avera.

Perhaps he would find it as difficult to believe as Sevelie had.

Instead, all he said was “I didn’t think he had the imagination.”

Again, I stared.

“If that’s really what he seeks,” said Fion, “then I imagine Lord Carnus will be only too happy to lend you his assistance.” Then, more cheekily, he added, “It’s about time someone showed him his place, anyway. Zander’s been growing bold, trying to seduce away Kaim’s fiancée.”

Kaim shoved him, and his laughter rang out across the streets of the umbral plane. And even though I missed my monster, there was a gladness inside me that somehow, my cousin and I had found some common ground to stand on.