Page 12 of Shattered Glass

Quickly packing my bag, I whistle for Fire Heart, who sticks his nose out from behind a tree but refuses to come closer. Beast steps back into the shadows, and Fire Heart takes a hesitant step forward. “Come on, he’s not going to hurt you,” I call to him, and he disappears into the trees again. “By the gods,” I mutter, dropping the bag on the ground. It takes me half an hour to catch him, but I finally lead him back, his hooves digging into the dirt, head swaying back and forth in a “no.”

Stubborn mule.

Beast sticks to the shadows, as still as a statue, an amused smirk dancing across his lips. Fire Heart is not happy to be so close to the Beast, but he decides to be obedient and come with me. He makes sure to keep me between him and Beast, though. So much for a war horse and loyalty.

Chapter 8

Cassian

Eight Months Later

“Good!”Beastcheersinapproval as I twirl my double-bladed war axes faster than the eye can see. Spinning around, I throw one and watch as it embeds itself deep into the hay bale Beast set up for practice.

“Again!”

Racing forward, I scoop up the axe and fling myself onto the side of Bastian Rock. It takes all my might to puncture the granite with the axes, using them to climb up the steep face of the cliff towering above us. Once I reach the top, I raise the axes in the air and roar. Beast answers and a wide grin splits my face. From the edge of the cliff, I throw both axes at once. They spin top over bottom before landing on the target.

Jogging down the gentler slope on the opposite side, I meet up with Beast, approval shining in his eyes. Handing my axes back, he tosses an arm across my shoulders, nearly knocking the breath out of me.

I never dreamed I would call the Beast of Granton my friend. When I first arrived, we were both wary of each other, but that quickly changed during my training. Father was right to send me here. It may only be a year since I left Valderán, but it feels longer. I didn’t realize just how much more growing up I had to do, nor how ignorant I was of the world. Not that I’m a worldly person now; but the Beast ensured that I not only became highly trained with a variety of weapons but also broadened my mind through education. Mathematics, geography, philosophy, history, and even legends were taught.

A year ago, I thought I was a man ready to take on the world. Now I want to laugh at the thought. There is so much more to learn, things to see and new lands to discover. My previous naïveté shames me. How could I have ever thought I could take on the world? A wry smile plays on my lips as I shake my head at myself.

When my lessons first began, Beast had explained that I must start from the bottom and work my way up. Before, I would have thought myself beneath such things as farming, but now I understand its importance. I have much more respect for nature and the natural laws of our world and have become skilled in farming techniques, animal husbandry, weaponry, hunting, and survival.

The Beast didn’t believe in being idle. If there was work to be done or things to learn, then he fully expected me to do so. He kept me busy from sunrise to sunset, only stopping when I fell into bed, too exhausted to move a muscle. My hands are now rough with callouses, and my strength nearly rivals the Beast’s.

But even through all of this, Snow White was never far from my mind. The image of her covered in blood has never left me. Nor her tear-streaked face as she begged me not to leave her. My heart has marked each day I have been away from her, screaming at me to return.

Beast leads me back into his castle, then runs his hand through his mane. “There is something I have not yet told you—“ he starts, heading toward the wide double staircase. “Come, I can explain better up here.”

He guides me into the west wing, the one place he told me I was not welcome. I ride his heels, curiosity overwhelming me. The small hairs on my arms prick up as we make our way down the corridor. Although the rest of the castle is spotless, this wing looks as if it was abandoned long ago. More than once I have to duck to avoid the thick cobwebs swinging from the ceiling on an invisible breeze. Strips of aged wallpaper hang from the walls, and the rugs under our feet carry years’ worth of filth.

Beast comes to a stop in front of a room and gestures for me to enter. “Have a seat,” he commands, pointing to a wide wingback chair. He takes the one beside it, sitting back with his hands steepled under his chin. Eyeing me warily, he begins his story.

“I have not told you how I came to be like this.” I watch his brows lower as he turns his attention to the window opposite him. He takes a deep breath and continues, “My grandparents were the rulers of Granton. The crown would have eventually fallen to me after my father crossed over into the beyond.”

He leans forward and closes my jaw for me, his mouth curling into a wry smile. “Yes, I would now have been king, if it weren’t for a man called Jessop. Jessop was a mere traveling merchant, or so we thought. A mighty storm swept the land one evening in winter. The temperatures were frigid, and snow piled as high as a man. I remember playing joust with my sister using giant icicles, and the ice on the pond being so thick it was as if walking on land.

“This particular night, the winds were viciously strong, and our family was gathered in the great hall, a roaring fire keeping us warm while we told stories. At one point, my sister slipped away, excusing herself to bed. I didn’t know it at the time, but she had in reality been sneaking out to meet a lover. Her actions saved her life, so I cannot be upset over her deception.

“A booming knock came on the door, and the guards led in an old man. His white beard dragged on the ground, and his back was bent and crooked. He begged my grandparents for shelter for the night, and they graciously agreed. But the man who called himself Jessop was not as he appeared. In truth, he was a sorcerer. Not the most powerful, nor the wisest, but a sorcerer all the same.

“Now, my family had a secret, one which they kept even most of their knights and guards from discovering. The old man quickly discarded his disguise, revealing himself as a sorcerer, and cast a spell over the room which forced my parents and grandparents to shift.”

I sit back in my chair, eyes wide as I listen to Beast’s story. My gaze roams over his mane, horns, and tail, and I wonder at them. He sees the questions in my eyes and inclines his head. “We are shifters,” he explains, and I gulp.

“I did not know such things existed,” I murmur.

“Aye, well, of all the nations in the Restüra Continent, Valderán is the most isolated when it comes to magic and creatures. Other countries are far more diverse.”

“What animal are you?”

“A manticore.”

My brows pull down as I search my mind. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that.”

Beast chuckles. “My family is the only of our kind, so that is not surprising. We have the body of a lion, wings of an eagle, and the horns of a ram. Fully shifted, we are a fearsome sight, and magic has no effect on us. What the sorcerer did not know, however, is that only family members over eighteen can fully shift. So when his spell was cast, my parents and grandparents were changed, but I, at fifteen, only partially changed.

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