Another eye appeared in a neighboring peak.
Then another.
Across the horizon, ancient shapes moved beneath mountains that had not changed in a thousand years.
Master Oren fell to his knees.
“The legends were wrong.”
King Aldric stared.
“What legends?”
The historian looked at Aren.
“The giants were never the enemy.”
The King’s hand moved toward his sword.
“Then what is the boy?”
Master Oren’s voice trembled.
“Not an orphan.”
The ground exploded beyond the palace courtyard.
Stone blocks flew upward.
People threw themselves down.
A massive hand emerged.
Each finger taller than a man.
The hand gripped the edge of the courtyard.
A colossal head rose behind it.
Gray stone.
Ancient cracks glowing gold.
A face shaped like a stern human warrior.
The giant climbed from beneath the earth.
Fifty feet tall.
Then sixty.
Royal soldiers formed ranks.
Spears shook in their hands.
The giant looked past all of them.
Straight at Aren.
Its head lowered.
The creature placed one enormous fist against the earth.
Not an attack.
A bow.
Its voice shook banners from the palace walls.
“THE HEIR HAS RETURNED.”
Aren stopped breathing.
King Aldric drew his sword.
Prince Corvin stared at his father.
Queen Maris whispered, “Aldric?”
The King did not answer.
Because somewhere beneath the palace, something answered first.
A second voice.
Much quieter.
Much older.
At last.
Aren heard it through the sword.
The golden Guardian turned its head toward the throne hall.
Its eyes narrowed.
Master Oren struggled to his feet.
“What did you hear?”
Aren looked at him.
“Something under us.”
The historian’s face became terrified.
“Let go of the sword.”
Aren tried.
His hands would not release.
Golden lines wrapped around his fingers.
The floor beneath the royal throne cracked.
King Aldric shouted, “Seize him!”
No one moved.
He turned on the guards.
“NOW!”
Three soldiers ran toward Aren.
The Stone Guardian raised one hand.
It did not strike them.
It simply placed its palm between the boy and the soldiers like a wall.
The guards stopped.
Aren looked toward the King.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
Aldric’s expression hardened.
“I am not afraid of children.”
Master Oren said quietly, “You were afraid of this one before he was born.”
The King turned.
Queen Maris went still.
Prince Corvin stared at his father.
“What does that mean?”
Aldric’s voice dropped.
“Oren.”
The historian looked tired.
“For twelve years, Your Majesty?”
“Silence.”
“For twelve years you believed the secret buried.”
“I said silence.”
The King drew closer.
Master Oren lifted his chin.
“I have served three generations of your family.”
“And you will serve no fourth if you continue.”