Page 59 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

But now the scourge sorcerers have upended not just her life but the rest of her family’s as well.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say again. “What do you think we should do now?”

She pauses for a moment in thought. It seems unwise to approach the estate. We’d draw too much attention and likely not get any answers regardless. Let’s go into Pima and see what’s happening in the city.

I pass on the idea to the men, and we creep back to our horses. As we turn them toward the road into the city, an air of gloom has descended over even Casimir’s gorgeous face.

We have a story prepared, but none of the people who observe us riding into the city bother to stop us, let alone demand to know why we’re there. Rheave murmurs that a few of those hanging around at the outskirts are daimon.

I guess that others keeping watch are human members of the Order of the Wild. Either scourge sorcerers or ordinary civilians who’ve become wrapped up in their claims of restoring Silana to its former glory.

Merchants are still coming into the city with wagons of goods; shops and eateries are open; pedestrians circulate on the streets. But a thread of tension winds through the atmosphere, as if everyone is periodically looking over their shoulder to check for threats.

I know the impression isn’t just in my head when Julita comments on it too. It feels like life as usual… but not quite. Everyone’s just a bit keyed up.

Nikodi sits at the northern end of Eppun province, its farthest border rubbing shoulders with Bryfeen, so I doubt there’ve been any direct clashes with the royal army here. But obviously the effects of the revolt have rippled through the county.

As we tie our horses at one of the city’s hitching posts so we can mingle with the townspeople, a sharp voice carries over the softer hum of everyday conversation. “King Konram and his court have bullied us for too long! Everyone should stand up for Silana and embrace the ways the All-Giver intended us to live!”

A woman with a cluster of followers is standing on a crate at one corner of a nearby square. She hands out pamphlets to everyone who passes nearby.

I pick up one that’s been dropped on the street and restrain a grimace. The Order of the Wild has taken one of the old myths about Creaden supporting the first kings of the realms and twisted it to make it sound as if even the godlen of rulership would support their cause.

The very fact that there are no soldiers or local law enforcement around to shut down the woman’s hostility toward the Crown shows how thoroughly the scourge sorcerers have taken over. I shudder to think what they’ve done to anyone who tried to stand up to them.

Julita’s voice stays subdued as she takes all this in through me. There was a pub around this end of town that the staff often talked about visiting. The Silver Stag. I went there a couple of times myself. It’s possible we’ll spot someone I know who’ll talk to us there… I think if we take a right at that cross-street…

We follow her directions through a few turns to a pub on the corner that’s bustling with lunchtime business. Rheave’s eyes light up as he watches the conjured illusion of a stag leap from one end of the sign to the other and back again.

When we slip past the door into a room smelling of fresh-baked bread and fried dumplings, almost all of the closely packed tables are full. So are the seats along the varnished bar where some people are having a more liquid sort of lunch.

I ease between the tables as if looking for someone I meant to meet, letting my gaze sweep over the patrons. None of their faces mean anything to me, but toward the back of the space, Julita gasps in excitement.

There’s Hanie! The woman alone at the small booth on the back wall—in the olive-green dress with the brassy hair. She’s the head maidservant at our estate. Always making sure the newer maids were looking after my clothes and hair properly and keeping our rooms clean.

I pause to study the woman Julita indicated from the corner of my eye. She’s hunched over a bowl, her gaze flicking toward the rest of the room between bites.

If she was in Julita’s house when the uprising reached Nikodi, she must have escaped it. She looks as if she’s afraid her association with the county’s rulers will be found out.

At the very least, I don’t think she’s comfortable with the shift in authority in the city.

Go on, Julita urges. Talk to her. Tell her you’re a friend of mine and see what she knows.

I duck my head close to the men to tell them what’s going on, and they follow me over to Hanie’s table. When I reach her, she stiffens with one hand raised partway to her mouth and the other braced against the bowl of stew.

“Are you Hanie?” I ask, because technically I shouldn’t know her for sure on sight.

The woman eyes me warily, lowering her spoon into the bowl. “That’s my name. Can I help you?”

“I hope so. We’re friends of Julita’s. She told us who to look for… Would you mind if we join you so we can talk more discreetly?”

Hanie’s eyes widen. She dips her head in agreement, tugging a strand of her brass-brown hair behind her ear as Casimir and I squeeze into the seat across from her. Rheave shifts position to block us from view from most of the rest of the room.

“Has Julita come back to Nikodi?” the maidservant asks in a hushed voice that betrays a mix of excitement and worry. As far as I can tell, she still cares about the family she worked for.

No one in Nikodi will have any idea what happened to the daughter of their count and countess. The story passed around the royal college is that Julita made a hasty departure for home, but I doubt anyone’s bothered to check whether she completed that journey yet.

As far as anyone here knows, she’s still studying away in Florian, not murdered and buried in an unmarked grave with her spirit stuck in someone else’s body.

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