Page 7 of House of the Beast

“And, of course, there is House Avera.” Kaim bowed his head and raised his metal hand briefly in respect.

“Home of the Dread Beast, known also as the Hunter in the Dark, the Harbinger of Blood and Ash. The Beast had been the one to lead the armies against the queen’s palace fortress, and in all the years that have passed since, no other god has been His equal in the art of death.

We are not”—he looked at me for this last part, nearly spitting the words out—“mere experts with the sword .”

My own words sounded small and stupid coming from his mouth. Shame coursed through me as I stared my cousin down, red-faced. I wished that my father had never brought me here.

“Well,” said Master Vuong nervously, “it’s good to know that my lessons haven’t gone to waste. And clearly, young Lady Alma can stand to learn from your vast reserves of knowledge. I think it’s a good idea to have her here.”

Kaim’s expression went thunderous. He was clearly about to launch into another heated refusal when the boy beside him, Fion, said in a sweet tone, “Kaim? You said you would help me with this passage.”

I held my breath. Whoever he was, this boy clearly was not a member of the family. I expected him to be as heavily reprimanded as I had been, speaking to Kaim out of turn.

But to my surprise, Kaim said nothing. He held my gaze a moment longer, cold eyes unyielding as if to make a point. Then he scoffed and sat down. He picked up the book again, as if all his anger had been forgotten. “Show me.”

And like my entrance had never interrupted them, Fion pointed out something on the page they were sharing, and they began read ing it together. Before he turned his attention back to Kaim, his eyes briefly met mine, amusement sparkling in them.

Something inside me burned with the unfairness of it.

How come I had been subjected to Kaim’s wrath for my ignorance when someone else could ask him openly for help and receive it?

A familiar stinging burned my eyes as tears threatened to fall, but I knew they would do me no good.

Just as speaking up about my cousin’s hypocrisy wouldn’t help anything—because it wasn’t really about my ignorance at all.

I had hoped to find a friend here, another child of Avera with whom I could commiserate about my ugly, aching stump and the shadows that plagued my dreams.

Kaim saw only competition.

I wished I could tell him I didn’t care about titles and family feuds—but I knew that wasn’t true. I had already sworn that whatever my father asked of me, I would do. And if he asked that I help him take First Hand from Kaim’s rightful grasp, I would do it.

For my mother’s sake.

There was a brief silence as I struggled to get myself back under control.

“Good,” said Master Vuong to the room at large. Then he grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his desk and walked over to me. “You know how to write?” he inquired gently.

I swallowed. I had been so proud of my own literacy, but now it felt silly. “My mother taught me.”

“That’s quite impressive,” said Master Vuong. He placed the pen and paper in front of me. “We can start there. I’d like it if you wrote a little about what you know of Kugari history, just so I can assess your ability.”

“Where should I start?”

“Perhaps where Kaim left off. There is no need to copy him exactly, of course. I’ll fetch you a book, so you can learn what you’re missing.”

He said this very kindly—perhaps he could hear the tremor I hadn’t managed to excise from my voice—and then shuffled back to his desk. I decided then that I didn’t mind Master Vuong. He was the nicest person I’d met here so far. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I sat and began to write.

I had known some of what my cousin explained—like how the Despot Queen had brought the elder gods into our world with human sacrifices.

After all, what a god desired most was to have space inside a mortal mind, to make a home where they could bask in all the misery and agony and things they lacked in the cold dead void between the stars.

And I had known about the Four Houses, but not of their storied pasts now presented to me between the pages of Master Vuong’s book.

Writing it all down turned out to be a difficult and time-consuming ordeal—not only because I lacked practice, but because I didn’t have an extra hand to hold the paper down with.

It shifted with every movement of my pen, making my letters awkward and unattractive.

But to my surprise, I found myself immersed in the task—enough to take my mind off the shame of my introduction.

The hours passed in relative peace, the room filled with the sound of my pen scratching erratically and the quiet murmurs of the two boys as the sunlight grew warm and yellow through the windows.

I even managed to relax despite Kaim’s presence right next to me.

My mother had always wanted me to go to school; it was pleasant to sit in a classroom like this, thinking of her.

This would be one nice thing to share with her, I decided, whenever my father allowed me to visit again. I had been maimed and insulted and scorned, but I could also have this, and I foolishly thought it might make everything else bearable.