Page 47 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

Stavros glances back at the rest of us. “We should take stock. See what equipment we still have—what supplies we’re starting with so we know what we might still need. I have my sword.”

He taps the weapon at his waist that thankfully he wore on his trek to the nearby fort.

I look down at myself. “I’ve got two knives—one in my boot and one on my thigh. The other two, you were using for your combat training. Sulla must have confiscated them.”

“We’ll want more weapons then. Is anyone else carrying anything of use? What’s in your saddle bags?”

We keep the horses walking at a sedate pace while we check the baggage attached to the saddles. My favorite noble dress that I was wearing when we rushed to the royal family’s aid is still bundled up in mine, along with the military uniform and a few extra apples. The men all have their uniforms too.

Alek has the tent, which we haven’t needed to use since arriving, and Casimir has one blanket. We brought the others up to the Haven buildings when we were first getting settled in.

We have two canteens between us, which Stavros and Rheave already refilled at the mountain stream. We all wore our cloaks coming down from the sleeping building, so we’re not doing too badly for outerwear. Although I’m not sure just how cold it’ll get in the north with winter creeping in.

Casimir finds the makeup he used to partly conceal Stavros’s and Alek’s faces, however much use we might get out of that. And the four of us have our enchanted lockets that we can signal each other with if we separate.

Stavros hums pensively when we’ve finished our accounting. “We can forage for food, but hunting won’t be easy with just a sword and a couple of knives. We’ll see how far we can get with my snares. It’ll be a lot harder to start fires without the flint. And we’re awfully short on blankets.”

Alek glances at Rheave. “Could you start a fire with your daimon powers?”

Rheave peers at one of his hands. “I’m not sure. It seems to go straight to burning without any flames.”

“We didn’t see any fire at the palace, only scorch marks and charred things,” I acknowledge, and hesitate. “I suppose we could… borrow a few things from one of the farms around here?”

The idea of stealing from farmers who are eking out a living sits much worse with me than pilfering from the overflowing coffers of greedy merchants.

I suspect Stavros can sense my reluctance. He knows my aspirations as a thief were to give to the commoners who needed it, not take from them.

He scans the horizon and turns his stallion a little to the right. The rest of us follow suit automatically.

He motions with his prosthetic toward the route ahead of us. “About halfway to the fort, I spotted a military marking that indicates an equipment stash nearby. The royal army has hidden stores across the country for emergency situations. There’ll be food rations and weapons and probably some tools and the like as well.”

Alek tenses in his saddle. “Will it be guarded?”

The former general shakes his head. “That would defeat the purpose of hiding it. We’ll have to be careful because of the patrols the major mentioned, but that’s the case no matter where we go. And the stores aren’t checked often. Supplies taken from one are much less likely to be noticed and commented on than a farmyard theft.”

My uneasy spirits settle. “Let’s make that our first stop, then. If scourge sorcerers taking over the country doesn’t count as an emergency, I don’t know what would.”

We nudge the horses to a trot, not wanting to push them too hard when we have a long journey ahead of us. Alek lets his mare fall back closer to Rheave.

“When we reach the north, it sounds like there could be quite a lot of other daimon that the scourge sorcerers have turned into accomplices,” the scholar says. “How close would you need to be to distinguish between them and actual people?”

I peer over my shoulder in time to see the daimon-man cock his head. “I think I’d just need to see them clearly. Someone in the same city square or across a clearing like the ones we’ve been in should be fine—there’s a feeling I get.”

“You’ll let us know if you do see any?” I ask.

Rheave draws himself up straighter at my attention. “Of course, if it would be helpful. I’d like to know what’s happened to the others like me.”

“It’d definitely help,” Stavros remarks from ahead of us. “At the very least, it’ll let us know there are likely to be scourge sorcerers in the area.”

Alek adjusts his grip on his reins. “And do you know any way to disable them or, well, free them other than killing them so the bodies imprisoning them turn back into clay? Or to break the scourge sorcerers’ hold on them so maybe we don’t have to?”

Rheave knits his brow. “I think… I think if the one who cast the magic that can command us died, the other sorcerers wouldn’t be able to control us anymore. But the previous orders might linger for some time. And I don’t know who cast the magic. From what I’ve seen, the bodies remain whole and living, containing us, as long as they’re alive.”

Alek was obviously hoping for a more useful answer than that. He lets out a mild disgruntled sound.

After a moment, he ventures another question. “How long have you been in existence anyway? Were you around for the Great Retribution?”

Rheave hums. “I’ve heard talk about that time for a while, but I don’t remember experiencing the sorts of things people mention happening. My memories do become blurry fairly quickly, though. We don’t pay much attention to the passing of time, only what we’re doing in the moment.”

---