Page 101 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

I clench my jaw to try to steady my addled mind. I have to concentrate.

Have to direct the magic nagging at me so it does what I want and not all the other chaos it could create.

Rheave had his arms braced on either side of me, but now he wraps one around my waist. He must be able to feel the tension as I ready myself.

“Whatever you’re doing,” he says quietly, “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

As the heat of his body cocoons me, an unexpected sob rises in my throat.

I need every bit of support I can get.

I drag air into my lungs and hone my consciousness as sharply as I can onto the image of the five of us hustling along the road.

Erase that sight from where we actually are. Project it swerving around and rushing away in the opposite direction. Off the road. Beyond the next field and into the woods, where the soldiers can think they lost us.

Rheave grips me tightly, grounding me even though we’re not touching the earth. I twist my head to watch the soldiers, and my cheek presses against his shoulder.

His warm, fresh scent fills my nose. I ignore the impulse to nestle even deeper into his embrace. Ignore the pang of affection and possibly more that I can’t grapple with right now.

Maybe a hundred paces behind us, the two soldiers gallop across the road and on toward the woods. Or are there three?

I’d swear I do see three of the blue-uniformed figures careening away from us, but when I blink, they meld back into two. My gut lists with that floating sensation again.

When I yank my head around, my gaze snags on another blotch of blue back by the town. My heart leaps into my throat. “There’s another…”

Stavros follows my gaze and then peers over at me. “I don’t see anyone.”

I squint and swipe at my eyes. It’s all just yellow-green grass.

Dread pools in the pit of my stomach.

At my shiver, Rheave rests his cheek against the back of my head. His arm stays tight around me. “I’ve got you,” he repeats.

He does. But how much do I have myself?

I thought if the worst effects of being riven hit me, it’d be in one big crash. I thought my unsteady moments over the past couple of weeks were only fatigue and nerves.

But what if this is how the madness comes: not a sudden slap of insanity but a slow, subtle creeping of it through the mind?

One you might not even notice until you’re already lost.

Twenty-Nine

Ivy

Stavros appears to cheer up at the sight of the first fortress. My skin crawls with apprehension even noting it from a distance, but I keep my qualms to myself.

“That’ll be Fort Alnaw,” he says with a weary smile. We’re well into our fifth day of near-constant tramping and riding. “Regica, which holds the palace I expect the royal family has moved to, is about four hours’ hard riding from here. We won’t risk getting that close just yet.”

Julita sounds as if she’s as tired as the rest of us. Yes, let us not walk right to the front doorstep of the ungrateful king who wants us killed for saving him.

I stifle a yawn, propelling my feet onward one after the other. “Where are we going, then?”

The former general pauses in thought. “If we take the next crossroads, we’ll reach the town of Iblin before nightfall. It’ll give us an opportunity to reequip ourselves and possibly pass on another warning, but it’s farther from the military outposts, so there’s less chance we’ll run into trouble.”

Alek lets out a weak laugh where he’s tramping beside me. “I approve of that plan.”

Casimir had been dozing in the rough sling of blankets we’ve formed on the second horse’s back, just as Rheave currently is on Toast. At our voices, the courtesan stirs and pushes himself more upright. “Iblin… There’s a fairly large temple of Ardone near there. We’re close to the border of the current Darium empire.”

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