Page 66 of House of the Beast

I straightened my spine; he was the sort of man who instilled in one the need for perfect posture, as if reporting to a superior.

Though I suspected he would not appreciate knowing I had effectively taken Kaim out of the Pilgrimage, I resolved to be honest. As briefly as possible, I explained the altercation between my cousin and me, and my reason for seeking Kaim in the first place.

All the while, Carnus Metia listened with a slight frown, his eerie white eyes fixed on me, expression unreadable.

But when I began to explain what I knew of my father’s ambitions, Lord Carnus marched up to me and clapped a hand across my mouth.

I stared at him, eyes wide.

“Do not speak of such things so freely,” he hissed. He glanced over to the others—all of whom were now watching us with barely concealed interest. Even Kaim, exhausted though he was. He growled, turning back to me, “You foolish child.”

I did not appreciate being silenced like this. I wrenched his hand away. “So you know what he’s looking for?” I demanded. “Please, tell me. I have to stop him.”

“Tell you?” he scoffed. “Only the highest members of the court have even an inkling of this knowledge. You haven’t earned the right. In fact, neither has your father.”

To my surprise, it was Kaim who spoke up.

“And yet he knows,” he said, his voice low with exhaustion.

“You can’t confront him by yourself, Uncle.

He’s a heel, but he is also a vessel of the Beast. You won’t stand a chance.

If you don’t want him to do whatever it is he’s doing, you should tell Alma.

She’s going to be the next First Hand, anyway. ”

My eyes widened. I could barely believe what I was hearing.

Seeing my incredulity, my cousin gave a rueful snort. “I’m not good for much more on this Pilgrimage,” he said, gesturing vaguely at his stump, which Fion was now wrapping fresh bandages around. “And we certainly aren’t letting Uncle Zander take the title. Turns out my father was right after all.”

Lord Carnus’s mouth went tight. The thunderous scowl furrowing his brow told me that he did not appreciate what he was hearing. “Kaim,” he said. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, Uncle,” said Kaim, sounding more accepting of it than I had expected of him. “I’m tired. I just want to rest.”

“Your mother won’t be pleased.”

“She never is.”

Lord Carnus hummed in reluctant concession. Then he looked at me and jerked his head in the direction of the door.

“Come with me. It seems we have things to discuss, Lady Alma.”

Still reeling, I allowed him to lead me out of the study and into the library proper.

The second floor, where we were, was made of narrow balconies along the wall overlooking the floor below.

Grand bookcases two stories high spanned the entire length of the enormous room.

It seemed this library had been used as a waystation many times in the past, for it was meticulously terraformed.

There were desks and comfortable reading chairs arranged around the center, where the rest of the men were all gathered, Heavensguard and my cousin’s Dreadguard alike.

Some of them were napping against the shelves, others quietly opening up ration packets to share.

The curtains were drawn above the tall, narrow windows, and the only light came from a couple of dim oil lamps.

The air was one of wariness, and exhaustion—a far cry from the quiet reverence one found in most libraries.

Carnus Metia rested a hand upon the wooden railing beside us and stopped, seeming to find this an appropriate spot for us to have our talk. I expected more questions—perhaps regarding my cousin, whose withdrawal from his duties as a Pilgrim obviously disappointed him.

What came out of his mouth instead was “Olissa Goldmercy wasn’t here today.”

Trepidation ran down my spine. Of course Carnus Metia would notice the absence of one of the highest-ranking members of the court.

Perhaps he already knew I was involved somehow.

Perhaps this was part of a test, to see if I really did deserve the title of First Hand.

I didn’t think that the truth would exactly paint me in a favorable light, but lying would do me no good. I steeled myself.

“She’s dead,” I said. “She ambushed me in the city and tried to temper me, so I had to kill her.”

A silver eyebrow calmly rose. “And why would she do that?”

“So that I would follow my father into the umbral plane. He had always planned for me to be a part of his retinue; I threw all his plans out of order when I entered the Pilgrimage by myself. It turns out that he needs me as a sacrifice, for whatever procedure he must conduct to find the secret to godhood.”

His eyes narrowed at me. The mere mention of godhood had put him on edge again. “This is heresy, you realize,” he warned lowly. “You are making unspeakable accusations against sworn protectors of Kugara.”

“I understand,” I said, refusing to look away from the milky gaze pinning me in place.

I needed him to trust me enough to tell me what my father was looking for—and perhaps help me stop him.

My own bleeding heart had led me from the path Aster and I had set, but there was still time to remedy that.

“But I know what happened to me. I mean to stop my father from getting what he wants.”

He watched me, barely unblinking. After a moment he allowed slowly, “If that is true, then Olissa has betrayed her station. She would have been put to the death even if she had survived you, for plotting with one such as Zander, and for something so vile.”

“That’s not all,” I continued, pushing forward while I had his attention.

“I helped one of my father’s men earlier.

He told me that my father plans to capture another Pilgrim’s party and use them all as offerings in the Pyres to lure in the Wanderer of Still Waters.

I had hoped to hunt the star myself before my father could do so, but then I saw Iloise Goldmercy’s retinue fighting with Kaim, and wanted to make sure he was safe.

That’s why I’m here.” Worry came roiling to the surface.

“But the day is nearly over, and I fear now that my father’s already put everything into motion. ”

“He shall be arrested on the spot, as soon as we find him,” Lord Carnus assured me.

Hope crested in my chest. “You’ll help me find him?”

Lord Carnus sniffed. “I am the keeper of the umbral gate, and the Grand vessel of the Heavenseer. It is my responsibility to stop the ambitions of men like Zander.”

“Can he really do it?” I couldn’t help worrying. It sounded so absurd—to bridge the gap between god and man. To become something else entirely. “Surely he cannot actually become a god just by slaying the fallen star.”

Lord Carnus’s thin mouth worked minutely, as if he were chewing over something distasteful and didn’t want anyone to know it. For a moment I wondered if he was going to go back to Kaim and instruct him to fight me again for the title of First Hand, but after a moment, he simply sighed.

“I had hoped to be telling my nephew this one day,” he said, “as I had once told Maximus. I never imagined the next First Hand of the Dread Beast would instead be Zander’s bastard.”

I frowned but remained silent.

“The truth that is kept from the ears of our people,” he continued slowly, “is that the Despot Queen Symbele II, may her name be blemished forevermore, succeeded in finding a path to apotheosis. To becoming one like a god.”

“But,” I started, and paused, taken aback. “But the books never mention that. They always say that she failed.”

“These books?” He gestured at the shelves beside us and snorted.

“We wrote these books, and we omitted that information on purpose. We did it to prevent people like Zander Avera from doing exactly what he plans to do. So awful was that power that the four newly chosen vessels of the Heavenseer, the Dread Beast, the Tinkerer, and the Weeping Lady killed her before she could destroy Kugara with it. Then they sealed the knowledge of it in the Church inside the umbral plane, guarded by the Lady herself. No mortal man can bypass the wards placed outside. But with the power of a fallen star...” His expression turned grim.

With the power of a fallen star, a vessel of an elder god could become nigh unstoppable.

Dread filled me. “What happens if he manages it?”

“Even I am not sure exactly,” said Carnus Metia.

“All I know is that the key to godhood is intrinsically tied to the umbral plane. The first-ever vessel of the Heavenseer used this key to create the gate above Sorrowsend.” His pale eyes fixed on mine.

“If your father were to achieve what he wanted, to merge humanity with godhood, then it would likewise bring the umbral plane into the mortal world.”

The thought of my father obtaining such a power nearly made me lightheaded with horror.

I thought of all those terrors lurking outside, and this perpetual night.

The chaos that would ensue if the umbral plane were ever to leak out into our realm.

So many people would die. “We have to stop him,” I said. “We have to go to the Pyres.”

“Indeed. This is no longer a Pilgrimage to rid Kugara of a fallen star but a mission to keep it safe from those who would tear down its very foundations.” He looked over the railing at his men below again and sighed.

“I will gather my men shortly. I had hoped to give them more time to rest—more for their minds than for their bodies. But I don’t imagine we have much choice. ”

I nodded. I was exhausted and still worried at Aster’s absence—but I couldn’t simply wait around for him to come back. I had to trust that he would be there when I needed him.