Seeker’s thoughts swarmed, relentless as flies. Watchful gone. Palace Beautiful in ruins. He had considered the possibility. But he had been sure there would be a cottage. And there was—only they had been turned away. Because of him.
He pulled out his pouch, idly filled the pipe’s bowl, and tamped it down with his thumb. Flint struck steel, sparks catching until the tobacco smoldered, a thin curl of smoke rising.
The ruins were no place for a baby—least of all Wonderful. And it was far too late to start down the other side. And there was no guarantee anyone would take them in at the bottom. He wanted to march back and tell the man at the cottage exactly what he thought of him.
Beautiful scoffed. “Smoking again, Seeker?”
“I have to think,” he said.
“When are you going to quit?”
“Not now, Beautiful,” he growled, pipe clenched tight between his teeth.
“Daddy, what you doing?” Bright asked.
“You’re being a bad influence on Bright,” she snapped.
“All right!” he snapped. He drew hard on the pipe, then banged it twice against the stair, scattering ash and tobacco across the stone. A jolt shot through him—he froze. “Beautiful!”
Lightning flashed in her eyes. “What?” she demanded. Behind her, Giant Wrath loomed. Seeker lunged for his staff. Beautiful whirled, terror breaking across her face. Wrath struck—one shove, and she went sprawling. She hit the ground hard and lay motionless.
Seeker charged and swung his staff with all his strength. The blow landed solid—but Wrath didn’t even flinch. It was nothing to him. The giant’s fist came down like a hammer, slamming Seeker’s chest. His breath vanished in a rush, and the world spun as he was hurled backward, crashing to the ground.
Red bled at the edges of his vision. He rolled to his side, fighting for air. The old bruise flared, pounding in rhythm with his heartbeat. Wonderful’s wail split the air. Out of the corner of his eye, Comfort snatched Wonderful and darted into the ruined Palace.
The giant fixed him with a stare, contempt burning in his eyes. Then he turned away, lumbering toward Beautiful. Bright planted his feet, Seeker’s staff gripped in both hands, barring the way.
“You,” the giant sneered. “You think you can protect her?” With a flick of his massive hand, he swatted Bright aside as though he were nothing. The boy hit the ground hard and burst into sobs.
Seeker lunged, driving his fist into the giant’s leg with all his weight behind it. Pain shot through his hand, white-hot. The giant’s flesh was harder than the mill’s stone wall.
Giant Wrath seized him and lifted him high. Seeker thrashed, straining to break free, but the giant only bounded toward the palace. With a brutal swing, he slammed Seeker against a stone pillar. Blinding pain ripped through his arm as the pillar cracked—and his bone snapped with it.
Giant Wrath howled in glee and hurled Seeker to the ground. He struggled to rise, but the giant’s club smashed into his side, a rib giving way with a crack. Another blow followed, then another. Seeker curled tight, arms over his head, as the strikes rained down. Darkness swallowed him.
***
Beautiful pushed up onto her elbow, heart pounding. Helpless, she watched as Giant Wrath’s blows rained down on Seeker, each one thudding through her chest as if she’d been struck herself. At last, the giant grunted in grim satisfaction. His eyes cut to her—a mocking, lingering glance—before he turned and lumbered off.
“Seeker?” Her cry broke from her throat as she stumbled forward, pain lancing up her back. She dropped to her knees beside him. His eyes were shut, his body slack. “Seeker!” The word came out as a gasp. She bent low, pressing her ear to his lips. A whisper of breath touched her skin—slow, faint, but there.
Panic surged through her. Wonderful? Bright? Her gaze darted wildly in the fading light until she found him—Bright, sprawled on the ground, Seeker’s staff clutched tight in his small hands. She rushed to his side.
Bright pushed himself upright, wincing. “Mama… my foot hurts.”
Beautiful caught him up in her arms, clutching him tight. “Oh, Bright. Oh, my Bright.” Her voice broke into sobs.
Comfort appeared on the stairs with Wonderful in her arms—somehow, she had soothed her cries. Beautiful’s gaze darted from Bright to Comfort.
“Go,” Comfort urged. She bent toward Bright. “Come into the palace with your sister. You’ll be safe there.”
Beautiful dropped to her knees beside Seeker, resting a trembling hand on his chest. She breathed a prayer to the King. “Please keep him safe. Keep him alive.” Then she rose and sprinted toward the cottage with all the strength left in her.
A faint light flickered in the window. She pounded on the door. No answer. She struck it again, harder. Still silence. Her hand seized the latch—locked. She hammered with all her strength, voice breaking in her chest. Please… please, answer.
At last, a woman’s voice drifted through the door. “We can’t help you. Go away.”
“Please,” Beautiful cried, “Seeker needs help!”
The light inside flickered—and went dark. She was left in silence, in shadow. Her knees buckled. She crumpled to the ground, tears spilling hot down her cheeks. “Oh, Almighty King,” she whispered, broken. “I beg You—please… help us.”
