Page 157 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

Stavros’s forehead furrows. “Whoever that is, she’s using a magical amplifier to spread her call. I don’t think she’s that close.”

We venture in the direction of the voice, coming to the edge of the patch of woods where the men brought me for shelter.

Across the nearby fields, a robed woman sits on horseback, flanked by two soldiers.

She holds her body with a stately air. A patch covers the eye she sacrificed.

I stare. “Is that… Hessild Korinya? The king’s chief sorcerer?”

“I believe it is,” Casimir murmurs. “And according to her, he sent her to us.”

Stavros scans the terrain around the royal magic advisor and her small escort. The nearby fields are open enough that any additional threat should be obvious.

“Konram knew from my message approximately where I’d be,” he says. “We should see what she wants—but with the horses, and keeping a safe distance so we can ride off if the conversation turns sour.”

Hessild makes her amplified appeal again as we clamber onto our steeds. When we emerge from the woods, she turns toward us but stays where she is, maybe recognizing that we’ll want to stay cautious.

Rheave keeps his bow at hand, his quiver over his shoulder. I scan the landscape all around us, but I don’t see any sign of a trap.

We stop right at the edge of where we can comfortably yell and be heard. “I’m here,” Stavros says, pitching his voice to carry. “What do you have to say?”

Hessild smiles. “It’s good to discover that you haven’t lost your knack for strategy, Stavros. You and your colleagues did the royal family a great service last night.”

Stavros gestures toward me. “The main part of the strategy came from Ivy. She risked her life to see that King Konram’s wouldn’t be threatened.”

The royal advisor inclines her head. “He recognizes that and regrets that he judged all of you so hastily. If you would come to Regica with me, he would like to discuss the conditions of a full pardon.”

For a second, I lose my breath. This is the outcome we hoped for all along.

Can it really be happening? King Konram is willing to let me live with my riven magic?

“Do we have official confirmation of his intentions?” Stavros asks.

Hessild retrieves a paper with a blob of wax at its bottom from her pocket and holds it out. “He has sworn it with his seal.”

“I’ll get it.” Rheave prods his horse forward and canters over.

I brace myself, but Hessild lets him take the proclamation without the slightest suspicious move. The daimon-man rides back and hands the paper to Stavros.

The former general scans it carefully. He keeps his voice even when he fills us in, but a warm glint comes into his eyes. “It looks authentic. The seal is his personal one that no one else has access to. He apologizes—says he can’t help but honor our efforts on his behalf. He couldn’t risk coming himself, but he sent Hessild as a gesture of trust.”

He pauses. “I’d imagine he also wants her to evaluate Ivy, but I suppose it is true that as far as they’re concerned, Hessild is putting herself at our mercy.”

Alek shifts nervously on his horse. “Do you think we can trust him?”

Stavros nods slowly. “If we don’t trust this, then we might as well commit to being outlaws forever.”

He glances at me. “But I can’t make the decision for all of us.”

My gut twists. I’m the one in the most danger if we go to the king. But how can I give up the opportunity to get at least part of the absolution I’ve spent most of my life dreaming of?

If Julita were here, she’d be saying it was about time the king saw the truth. Applauding me for showing my worth.

The ache of loss expands in my gut.

We’ll never be able to honor her if we spend our whole lives running away.

I draw myself up straighter. “Let’s go see the king.”

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