Page 104 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

I wait a few minutes longer, but no other impressions jump out at me. Grudgingly, I push to my feet and stride out of the temple.

Julita doesn’t speak until I’m crossing the square. I have no idea what went on between you and the trickster, but I get the sense you’re not happy about the answer.

“More like the lack of an answer,” I mutter in return, and follow the scent of frying dough on the breeze. I want to come back to the men with something gained on this mission.

A bagful of dumplings would really hit the spot before the longest night’s sleep we’ve had in days. My only decision right now is whether I’m going to pay for or pilfer them.

One of the streets off the square has rows of restaurants, culinary shops, and food stalls on both sides. I spot the stall the dumpling smell is wafting from down past a fishmonger and a fruit and vegetable stand. But I’m only halfway there before Julita’s voice breaks through my thoughts in a panicked tone. Wait!

I freeze in the middle of the street and dodge to the side to avoid a local who was strolling along behind my invisible form.

“What?” I murmur.

I thought I heard… Look around, to your left. Farther behind you. Oh, maybe I was just imagining?—

Her words halt as I catch the voice she must have heard before too. A harshly arch masculine tone drifting from the butcher shop a few storefronts back, muffled enough that I only catch one phrase: “…long will it take?”

With my heart thumping twice as fast, I backtrack and ease closer to the butcher’s entrance. Even though I can feel my magic wrapped around me, the sight within makes me want to shrink out of view—not least of all because of Julita’s cringe in my head.

Her brother is standing at the butcher-shop counter, his hands on his hips in an arrogant pose. “I rode ahead of most of my party to ensure that my companions will have all the necessary supplies when they arrive. Are you saying you can’t come up with the steers and fowl I asked for in time?”

The butcher glances around with a harried expression. “I suppose… If you pay in advance, you can have most of the next delivery I’m expecting. You said you need it for tomorrow evening?”

“That’s right. And I trust my money is good enough.” Borys slaps several gold coins down on the counter. “I can give you more if you’ll meet the delivery escort outside one of the gates with the fee to save me some of my hassle coming and going.”

The butcher mumbles instructions I don’t catch, and Borys bustles off without another word—farther into the shop, where there must be a back door.

I scramble away and scan the street for alleys. Where is he going?

Should I try to ensure he never sees his companions again?

But the buildings along the street are densely packed. By the time I find a narrow passage around the backs toward the far end, Julita’s brother is long gone.

I stand there in the dingy alley, another layer of dread settling into place.

He’s already here, Julita says in a strained voice.

“He rode ahead to make preparations.” I swallow thickly. “And the rest of the scourge sorcerer’s march is only a day behind us.”

Thirty

Casimir

The etching of Ardone carved into the pinkish stone wall smiles tenderly. All the same, a niggle runs through my nerves with her gaze on me.

I’ve served my godlen faithfully for as long as I knew how to. Surely I’ve earned the temple hospitality we’re going to take advantage of tonight?

But I can’t help wondering if I’ve strayed too far from the path I dedicated myself to. If some of the misfortunes we’ve faced reflect the gods’ disapproval—of me.

My mother would certainly have said so.

Stavros peers warily at the small door I’ve led my companions to. “You’re absolutely sure the cleric will harbor us unquestioningly?”

I shoot him a reassuring grin. “Ardone has a clear policy on those seeking shelter in her temples.”

I step toward the door and press my hand to the print carved into the wooden surface with Ardone’s sigil marked deeper on the palm. I bring my other hand to my chest.

It isn’t hard to summon the deep-rooted pang of emotion associated with the woman behind me. I swallow thickly and lift my voice. “I’m here out of love.”

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