Page 20 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

But he’s here. He’s reached out to me after all.

“I can make my own decisions,” I say, remembering the things he’s said to me before. I can’t quite keep my voice from shaking. “I’d just like to do it with a better understanding of what we’re up against. You want all the scourge sorcerers stopped, don’t you? But I don’t know how much I can risk using my magic without becoming just as big a problem as they are…”

Kosmel is silent for long enough that I’d think he might have vanished if I wasn’t staring at his boots. The awareness of his divine energy prickles over my skin.

“It’s a complicated journey you’ve found yourself on,” he says finally. Like when he speaks in my head, his voice resonates through every particle of my body, quivering into my bones, scattering my pulse. “Being cautious is not my natural state, but things end in catastrophe when gods impose too much of their will on mortals. You’ve already suffered enough from those consequences.”

I’m not totally sure what he means about my ‘suffering.’ I grope for the right thing to say. “You must have wanted to tell me something, or you wouldn’t be here.”

The godlen makes a rough sound that’s as much caw as grunt. “I heard your plea. I didn’t want you to think I’ve forgotten you. But this may be the last time we speak.”

For a second, I feel as if the branch beneath me has disintegrated. I wobble, fighting through the sensation of freefall, of the one bit of security I clung to slipping through my fingers.

“But—my magic—if I need to use it again, will you help me guide it? I didn’t want to let it loose without your direction; there just wasn’t time?—”

“Don’t fret like that,” Kosmel interrupts. “It doesn’t become you.” His dry tone gives no indication that he’s upset about how I used my power in the past day.

He pauses and then clicks his tongue. “You should have guidance of some sort. I can offer better than my own, in this one case. To mend some of what was marred.”

I shouldn’t be surprised when the godlen of trickery speaks in half-riddles rather than plainly, but it’s frustrating all the same. “Better?”

He adjusts his position with a ruffling of his crow feathers. “Walk with the sun at your left in the morn and your right after noon until you see the silver peak through the trees. Climb straight to the crossed trees, then continue to the left until you reach the waterfall. Announce to the sky that Kosmel led you there and expects you to receive a riven’s welcome. Then listen well.”

Listen well? Another question tumbles out. “If there’s more I should know, can’t you?—”

Kosmel cuts me off with another raspy caw. “Mortal business is between mortals.”

His wings sweep past me in a blur of black feathers, and I really do lose my balance. My boots slip on the branch. My clawing fingers catch only air.

I plummet down and down and?—

My eyes pop open as if with a smack of impact. At my gasp, the men around me stir.

Casimir blinks sleepily with a hint of a sniffle and touches my arm. “All right, Kindness?”

I stare into the darkness, the dream echoing through my head. “I think so. I know where we need to go.”

Seven

Rheave

The soft blades of grass tickle my palm. I turn my hand over, taking in the difference of how they feel against my knuckles.

There are so many tiny experiences that make up the essence of bodily life. So many sensations it never occurred to me might exist when I barely brushed against the physical world.

Flowers of different shapes and colors bloom between the green blades. Their petals graze my fingers with a different texture.

A glimmer of curiosity lights inside me. I pluck up one blossom and then another and another before pausing to admire how the hues intensify when placed next to each other.

With a second quiver of inspiration, I crack little notches into the stems and start fitting them together. A smile crosses my lips at my handiwork.

As a pure daimon, I danced through the city streets and the fields beyond, stirring up the energy of everything around me when the impulse caught me. Now I can spark amusement and surprise more directly.

Stavros’s commanding baritone carries across the field where we stopped to let the horses graze. “Rheave, why don’t you join us? It’d be good for us to know how you could best contribute in a fight.”

Sounds hit me much the same in this form as when I breezed along as a ball of spirit energy, only sharper and with a distinct impression that I should pay attention to them. It was easier to ignore humans talking in my previous state.

I glance over at where Stavros is standing with the other two men who are Ivy’s dedicated companions. Stavros has drawn his sword, and Casimir and Alek are both holding daggers.

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