Page 62 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

I stay in the lead to guide them with my footsteps, watching to ensure there’s nothing to trip them up. With every rasp of breath they emit and every hitching motion, horror swells inside me.

Do the scourge sorcerers tell themselves what they’re doing isn’t a crime because they haven’t killed the people whose sacrifices they use to boost their power? Because it seems to me they’ve traded the brief cruelty of murder for a lifetime of torture.

I reach the door first and lean out to make a swift signal. Down the street, Rheave taps the horses to draw the wagon we commandeered from an abandoned farm in front of the brothel. The canvas arching over the cargo area will hide the accomplices we’re stealing from view.

As I guide the shrouded figures out of the brothel, the canvas flaps at the back of the wagon part. Alek holds one side open while I usher the four figures inside.

He wanted to join us for this venture, but not out in the open while we travel through the city streets. The makeup I painted over his scars isn’t a perfect cover.

He shoots me a quick, tight smile of welcome. Neither of us are happy about the state of the people we’ve come to free, but we’re glad we can free them at all.

Even if I’m taking the lead role in this operation, I couldn’t pull it off without both him and the daimon who’s become such a devoted ally.

Once the sacrificial accomplices are settled on the benches within, I close and tie the flaps. Alek’s even voice filters through the canvas as I come around to the driver’s seat. “I want to make sure we position you properly for the best impact. What are each of your gifts?”

I pull myself onto the seat beside Rheave, who takes that as his cue to set the horses trotting forward. The brothel owner has already disappeared back inside his establishment, no doubt thinking, “Good riddance.”

I pitch my voice low to murmur to the daimon. “We should keep a conservative pace until we leave the city so we don’t draw suspicion. Once we’re on the open road, we’ll push the horses harder. We don’t want to take so long that the accomplices start to worry.”

Rheave tips his head in agreement, his expression calmly intent. He’s really the perfect comrade for a bit of subterfuge like this—he’s so unaffected by human insecurities that he doesn’t have any nerves to hide.

I wasn’t totally sure at first how he’d fit in to the dynamic that’s formed between the four of us. Ivy, Alek, Stavros, and I have been through so much at the college before Rheave quite literally barged in. But somehow he manages to be both fanciful and steady when we could use more of both to bolster our spirits.

I sink back in my seat, letting my own nerves settle. It should be smooth going from here. Hanie vouched for a cleric at a temple of Prospira that’s about an hour outside the city. We’ll go there and surrender the sacrificial accomplices to his care.

Alek wanted to talk to the cleric too—something about investigating records about the Great Retribution. I’m not sure where he hopes that line of inquiry will lead him, but I trust the scholar knows what he’s doing.

And now the scourge sorcerers will have four fewer victims to exploit to enforce their rule. All the brothel owner will be able to tell them is that one of their own came to?—

“Hey, you there! Halt a moment.”

A burly man with a sword at his hip steps into the street ahead of us, holding up his hands. My pulse hiccups.

We’ve only made it a few blocks from the brothel. Did someone realize what we’re up to?

From the man’s swaggering stride toward us, he’s either a member of the Order of the Wild enforcing their will around the city or one of the locals doing the same to win the Order’s favor. His imperious gaze sweeps over us.

“What’s your business in Pima?” he demands. “I don’t recognize either of you.”

Probably a local, then, and one whose head has swelled with his newfound authority.

I keep my stance relaxed. “We came through town to do a little business. We’re making the trip back to Valk now.”

I pick a Nikodian town that’s farther from the border rather than closer in the hopes that’ll deflect any worries that we’re involved with the king’s forces. All I get in return is a frown.

The guard takes on a haughtier tone, ambling past the horses. “I hope your business supports our goals. Have you pitched in anything toward seeing a proper king on the throne?”

“We do what we can. What the All-Giver would want from us.”

He pauses next to me and squints at Rheave. “Your business partner is awfully quiet.”

Rheave peers at him in his unflappable way. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

His detached tone appears to raise the guard’s suspicions. He glances at the rest of the wagon. “Maybe I should take a look at what goods you’re peddling.”

Gods smite us. I grope for the right words to temper his authoritative ego, but nothing comes to me.

I don’t know what he really wants. But I do have a way to find out.

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