Page 51 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

His face is gnarled too, a sharp nose jutting from his wizened brown face. Wisps of white hair peek from beneath his hood.

But his eyes are perfectly steady. He peers right back at us with a fathomless gaze, his irises so dark I can’t tell where his pupils end and they begin.

Julita shivers. Who in the realms is that? And did no one ever tell him it’s impolite to sneak up on people?

I’d hardly take the man for a threat if it wasn’t for his abrupt arrival. Stavros’s tensed stance suggests he’s unnerved too.

What on earth is anyone doing traveling this isolated road alone and on foot? Does he live on a farm nearby?

The former general motions to the old man with his prosthetic, his hand of flesh still resting on his sword hilt. “What do you mean, we might not accomplish it? Who are you?”

The man rocks on his heels, making his head bob in an unsettlingly bird-like motion. “Many people make plans. They don’t always turn out as they hope.”

He ignores the second question completely. I glance at Rheave, but the daimon-man shakes his head. “Not like me,” he murmurs. “Just a man.”

“Where are you headed?” Casimir asks cautiously.

The old man hums to himself, his expression turning distant. “I simply need to find it, and then I’ll know…”

He seems so out of sorts that I can’t keep quiet. “Are you all right?”

His unsettling gaze snaps back to me. A chill washes over my skin.

“There are a few coming who would like to set their swords through all your hearts,” he says in the exact same tone as before.

The instant his last word fades in the air, the sound of far-off hoofbeats carries on the wind.

Stavros stiffens and motions us toward the trees. He pitches his voice ominously low. “Take shelter. Pull as far back into the woods as you can, but be quiet about it.”

I snatch Toast’s reins and tug him with me between the trees. The stallion huffs in dismay but follows, shuffling through the brush.

The men guide their own mounts on either side of me. But we’ve only pushed about a single horse-length into the forest before Stavros jerks up his hand to stop us.

I glance toward the road—and spot a flash of rich blue fabric that makes my pulse stutter.

Three soldiers in the standard military uniforms are riding around the bend in the road maybe a quarter mile distant. The thudding of their horses’ approach reaches our ears even more clearly now.

Shit. It’s got to be one of the king’s patrols.

If we keep tugging our steeds along, they’ll hear us rustling through the forest now. They’ll be able to see us in a matter of seconds.

But if we abandon the horses to walk more stealthily, the animals will still give us away. At best, we’ll lose all the supplies we’ve gathered.

At worst… our blood might water these trees.

Stavros’s face has gone taut with tension. He gestures for us to ease our horses down to lie on the forest floor.

I touch Toast’s muzzle in the hopes of keeping him calm and sink to my own knees. The stallion gives me an incredulous look but follows suit with just a brisk shake of his mane.

We’re more concealed by the bushes now, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough. The pale gray hair of Rheave’s mare stands out amid the vegetation even in the shadows.

Are we going to have to fight these men? Kill them so they can’t stab their swords through us the way the old man suggested?

My stomach churns at the thought. I left the Haven to stop people from dying, not to add to the death toll.

At the thought, my magic flares in my chest and quivers through my limbs. There are so many things it could do to protect me.

I hesitate and then slowly consider. Is there something I could do that wouldn’t hurt anyone?

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