Page 68 of House of the Beast

Chapter

T here was little chance of getting any rest. Half-dazed and feeling empty, I stared out the window at the stars, at the dark streets and the shadowy shapes that crawled along them.

The sky never changed; there was no indicator of time passing here in the umbral plane, but I knew it was almost time for us to go.

I had never seen Aster upset like that before, and at me, of all things.

It hollowed me out. Left me more exhausted than taking on the mimic had done.

I knew my new alliance with Kaim and the two vessels of House Metia had made him unhappy, but was it simple jealousy?

Or had he truly believed I was abandoning him?

It tore at me, to think that he felt that way.

He had been there for me all those years, and yet I was leaving him behind at the first opportunity I got, for the House who had denied me aid all those years ago.

But no, I told myself. I was not leaving him—not truly. I would never want to.

Yet I could not bring myself to regret the choices I had made.

I could not regret abandoning the hunt for the fallen star and instead finding an ally in my cousin.

That, more than anything, terrified me. Aster and I used to be of one and the same mind.

What would happen if we could not see eye to eye again, when we were so close to confronting my father?

More than ever, I needed him by my side.

He had promised to be there, but what if he decided in the end that I wasn’t worth the trouble?

These thoughts tore and chewed at my nerves—as did the memory of his kiss. Over the years, I had spent many a day imagining what it would be like to finally give in and kiss my monster.

I had never imagined it would leave me feeling so sad, and so lost.

What had he meant by it?

When a knock came at the door, it made me jump.

I hadn’t washed or eaten, and the flesh inside the socket of my metal arm was sore.

I had worn it for too long. The ache only reminded me of Aster’s gentle touch that first night in Sorrowsend.

I would have given anything to go back to that moment, to the ease with which we’d existed around each other.

Back before I was afraid of him and he was wary of me.

Lynel Metia greeted me on the other side of the door.

He smiled at me. Wearily, I smiled back.

I was surprised to find myself quite comfortable doing so.

I only regretted that I could not understand him when he spoke with his hands.

When this was over, and if I had a chance, I would have liked to learn how.

As things were, he signed something quickly, then pointed down the hallway. The message was clear enough.

It was time to go.

I strapped my sword around my waist. Checking my pack and my gear one last time, I followed him back toward the library’s entrance.

Two dozen Heavensguard were gathered there, as well as the remains of Kaim’s retinue. Carnus Metia stood on the stairs above them, and Lynel and I went to join him.

“Where’s Kaim?” I asked.

“Resting,” answered Lord Carnus. “I’ve told him not to come. His Dreadguard have volunteered to join you in his stead.”

Surprise filled me, and warmth. I hadn’t expected such an offer, or that they would find me worthy of their service.

But then, as I glanced over at the determined faces of my cousin’s men, doubt trickled in.

I did not want to be responsible for any lives other than my own, and I thought of Aster balefully watching me ally with yet more people, and quickly said, “No. Let them stay here with Kaim. They’ll keep him safe. ”

“As you wish, Lady Alma,” said Lord Carnus, dismissing the Dreadguard with a wave.

Then he turned to address his retinue. “My men: I know I ask much of you. We will be traveling to the umbral wilderness of western Sorrowsend to stop a blasphemer from his mad ambitions. This is a Pilgrimage not only to honor Kugara but to save it from those who would destroy it completely. But you have been training for this your whole lives; the Heavenseer has blessed you, and with this blessing we shall prevail.”

The men of House Metia answered as one, “Yes, Lord Carnus!” Fervor filled their eyes. Lord Carnus descended the stairs. I hesitated—but then Lynel smiled at me again, and I found myself following them down to the door, and then out into the starry night.

***

IT WAS A LONG JOURNEY TO THE PYRES, AND UNEASINESS weighed on my chest as we marched. My father would have had plenty of time to put his plan into motion. Perhaps he was already fighting the Wanderer of Still Waters. Again, I almost wished I had gone after him by myself.

Maybe Aster would still be with me.

But the thud of two dozen pairs of armored boots at my back was a comfort I could not deny.

The terrors of the umbral plane were no match for two retinues led by vessels of the Heavenseer, not to mention one of Carnus Metia’s experience.

Every single shade or monster we came across was quickly eradicated by magelight, if not by the spears of all the trained soldiers marching at our heels.

Those not cut down by the Heavensguard were met with my sword.

I was almost thankful for something to keep myself occupied with.

My mind continued to turn and roil with doubt—something I had no time for, so close to the end.

I could not help wondering where Aster had gone.

If he had been right. If I had betrayed him, and myself, by listening to my own bleeding heart. Had I forsaken my revenge?

I wondered, too, what my father would think, to see me allied with another House.

He would have never imagined it possible.

Once the men he’d sent after me had failed to return, he might have sent more to hunt me down.

Perhaps he was on the way himself, so he could slit my throat or carve my heart out before whatever profane altar he had built.

I hoped I would get the chance to confront him before the end.

No—it wasn’t about hope. I would seize that opportunity for myself. I had promised Aster.

We made good pace across the northern quadrant.

The others were blind to my unrest, focused and ready for battle.

They marched down the terror-ridden streets with single-minded determination, the faith of their elder god at their back.

As we passed the Church’s light, approaching the western part of Sorrowsend, the scenery began to change.

The buildings were no longer carbon copies of their counterparts in the mortal realm.

Some of them were fractured, with pieces broken off and floating up toward the sky.

Others were half formed, their walls and windows burgeoning into unknowable shapes.

The ground, too, became broken and uneven, the slow chaos of the umbral plane creeping out from the cracks to overtake the streets.

The water picked up a gentle current, the sound lapping at the edge of my consciousness, making everything seem more alive somehow.

Even the stars seemed to glow just the slightest bit brighter.

Here, we encountered more terrors. Ones that were larger and fiercer, as they had lived longer, hiding in the places where most Pilgrims did not venture.

Their forms were awful to the human eye—twists of flesh and bone, flashes of black pupils and snarling mouths, teeth everywhere.

Each one was a burden to kill, and their horrible visages stayed burned into our eyes long after.

Some of the men began to slow their pace, harrowed.

“Stay close,” Lord Carnus ordered them. “Remember your faith. These monsters will not take hold of your minds as long as they belong to the Heavenseer.”

Though the Heavensguard remained stout, celebrating each victory to keep up their morale, I could not help noticing that there were fewer terrors than I had expected.

Almost as if someone else had already come through and culled the worst of them.

Eventually, we came across the ruins of one, its bones stark white and its flesh half melted into black sludge, and my suspicions were confirmed. We were not the first ones to pass by.

Carnus Metia looked at the corpse and his expression darkened as well.

The terrain became even more uneven, alternating between sections of familiar paved road and rugged wilderness, broken up by fissures in the ground large enough to form canals of their own.

Whatever buildings remained looked like ruins, worn away by time, some barely recognizable as man-made structures.

Because of this, it was easy enough even from a distance to spot the great wooden beams jutting horridly from the ground.

We had reached the Pyres. The great sacrificial grounds used by the Despot Queen, where she had first made contact with the elder gods.

This was the only memory of the old city left, imprinted into the umbral plane at the time of its creation and not yet wiped away.

Death blanketed the area like a heavy fog.

Even from a distance, the miasma of it was beginning to stir up nausea in my throat.

The Metia guard behind me murmured among themselves in unease.

Their boots no longer marched to a confident rhythm, the way they had when we first set out.

The ground was too rough. Their careful, hesitant footsteps only added to the disquiet.

Eventually, Lord Carnus snarled, “Blast him. He’s already found his offerings.”

Blessed by sight as he was, it took another minute or so before the rest of us could confirm for ourselves.

But indeed, as we drew closer, I saw the dark silhouettes of bodies strung up along those heavy wooden beams. And then I sensed them—several threads of life quivering, desperate, their deaths lurking near.

“Some of them are still alive,” I realized, aghast. They were struggling, afraid.