Page 63 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

I inhale deeply, my teeth setting tight against each other. I wouldn’t normally use my gift twice in such close succession—I’m not totally sure it’ll work.

As I aim my attention more intently at the guard, pain splinters through my forehead. It condenses into a throbbing ache at the sides of my skull.

I keep casting out my gift through the pain. The impressions that reach me come in filmier fragments than usual, but I think I grasp enough emotion and ambition—and a single name—to piece together an answer.

Now I know what would make him happiest… and I’m going to do the opposite.

I set my hand on the seat beside me to offset the dizzying headache and raise my voice just slightly. “You’re one of Artor’s fellows, aren’t you? He did say you were getting a bit big for your britches.”

The guard jerks around, his shoulders going rigid and his face flushing. “You know Artor? He talked about me?”

I know from the glimpse I caught that Artor is someone who’s given this man orders, who he desperately wants to impress.

I manage to nod despite the throbbing in my head. “Oh, yes. We’ve known each other since we were little. I told him it’s impressive what you all have coordinated here, but he’s concerned some have come on board to puff themselves up with bullying rather than to see that the gods’ purpose is fulfilled.”

The guard blinks, and most of the arrogance deflates out of him. He averts his gaze with a scowl. “I was only trying to do my job.”

“I’m sorry if we gave you any reason for suspicion,” I say in an arch tone that’s more chiding than apologetic.

My heart doesn’t stop thudding until he waves his arm for us to continue. “I didn’t know you had those kind of ties here. Go on now.”

“Thank you,” Rheave says in a tone that’s a little more chipper than the situation calls for, but to my relief, the guard doesn’t shout after us as the horses clop onward.

I tip my head into my hand, rubbing my temple as the ache slowly wanes.

Rheave glances over at me. “Are you all right? You used your magic on him, didn’t you? But I thought it was a regular gift—it shouldn’t hurt you like Ivy’s does.”

I manage to give him a crooked grin. “It only does if I push it harder than is wise. As long as I don’t try to peek inside anyone else’s head today, I’ll be fine.”

He hums to himself, though I’m not sure if he fully understands what I’m saying. How can a being practically made of magic comprehend the kind of gifts we humans sacrifice for?

He turns to glance at the canvas covering behind us as if he can see through it. When he faces the road again, his face has turned solemn. “You got the people the sorcerers are using for extra magic?”

“Four of them.”

He knits his brow. “It isn’t any of them.”

I shoot him a puzzled look. “What isn’t?”

“The one who helped make my body—and the one who helped control it. Neither of them are in the wagon. Those two are still out there, making more like me.”

Nineteen

Rheave

I’m not sure whether I like the “apartment” Ivy’s new friend found for us to stay in better than camping.

It is much bigger than the tent: two attached rooms, one with enough space for a table and set of chairs as well as a wood-burning stove that helps warm us, the other empty other than the blankets we’ve laid down to form beds. The walls hold in the heat better than the tent’s canvas, so my fingers and ears don’t get tingly and numb.

But there’s only one small window overlooking the street. It’s impossible to tell that anyone’s coming up the stairs to the second-floor hall until you hear the boards creak, and equally impossible to know which of the three apartments they’re going to unless they knock on the door.

We only have one way to flee if danger arrives, and it’ll probably have to be right through the danger.

I understand we need to be in the city so we can make our plans effectively. The people who trapped so many of my kind need to be stopped.

But I miss the wide-open space of the forests and fields we kept to on our journey here. My spirit is used to roaming.

I don’t think Ivy’s friend likes being in this room either, at least not with me. Since we’ve been squeezed around the table, discussing our next steps to disrupt the scourge sorcerers, she’s been shooting little frowns my way.

---