Page 70 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

So they prayed to the godlen of leadership and justice for help.

The current countess woke from a dream of Creaden to find she had a plan for securing Nikodi’s freedom in her head—and this shield resting against her bedframe as a symbol of the godlen’s support. She led her supporters to push back the Bryfesh soldiers and ensure the people of Nikodi got to choose who governed them.

From what Emor and Voleska told us and Julita confirmed, the people of Pima still avidly celebrate that long-ago triumph. They have a festival in honor of the countess every year, and people who feel oppressed by their circumstances come to the temple to pray both to the statue of Creaden and beneath the shield.

As a symbol to convince the citizens that they should resist the Order of the Wild’s mutinous rule rather than bowing to them, you couldn’t ask for much better. But it’s a shame the artifact might end up damaged in the process.

The ledge takes me to just beneath the shield. Ever so carefully, I slide my fingers beneath the wooden surface and detach it from the hooks that hold it in place.

Thankfully, the leather arm strap must be periodically replaced or kept in good condition through magic. I slip it over my arm almost to my shoulder without any fear that it’ll crumble.

Julita lets out a nervous giggle.

Keeping my own mouth clamped tight, I brace the shield against my back and slink along the railing to the main entrance. Then I pull out the canvas sack I brought and wrap it around the shield to hide my cargo.

With a deft leap, I land on the stone floor near the entrance with only a soft thud. I hurry out into the city without waiting to see if anyone will come to investigate the sound.

Creaden forgive us, Julita murmurs. I have the vague impression of her making the gesture of the divinities, as well as she can in her current state.

It’s dark enough that I don’t need to use my magic to conceal myself. Which I’m grateful for, since I’ll need it later this morning. Sulla’s warnings linger in the back of my mind.

I haven’t felt any negative effects from the ways I’ve worked my power since leaving the Haven, but my attempts have been fairly minor. I’d like to keep it that way.

I dart through the streets to the café where I’m supposed to meet the others. The storefront is shuttered, but the door around back opens at my tug.

A small crowd is waiting for me in the room beyond. Stavros insisted on joining Casimir, Rheave, and me for this undertaking, since we’re expecting to do at least a little fighting. I can’t help being glad that Alek is off on his research trip so he won’t be caught up in the violence too.

Near my men, Emor and Voleska stand in a cluster with a few of their associates. They turn to face me with eager expressions.

“You got it?” Voleska asks as she takes in the sack, her tone hushed.

I suspect the shield is pretty meaningful to her too, even if she’s willing to use it for this gambit. When I nudge down the canvas fabric to reveal part of the wooden surface, she, Emor, and their companions go still with awe.

I nudge it toward them. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before the temple staff notice it’s missing.”

Emor hums dismissively, his attention still fixed on the shield with a reverent air. “To avoid creating a panic, they’ll keep the disappearance quiet for at least the first few hours while they search. By then, we’ll have already shown everyone why they should be panicking.”

Finally, he tears his gaze away to consider me and my men. “We’ll set up in the square at the ninth bell. Everyone’s clear on what they’re meant to be doing?”

We all nod. As far as the local rebels know, I have a gift for moving things with my mind, which covers both of the purposes they want from me. Once the expected chaos starts, the three men will join in, working on cutting down the scourge sorcerers’ support.

If we can turn the tide here, maybe word will spread and more of the province’s people will reject the Order of the Wild’s claims.

Voleska pauses to peer at Rheave. “You’ll help us identify these… daimon in conjured bodies? We don’t want to hurt anyone who was simply duped by the traitors.”

Her group took the news about what Rheave actually is—and how many others like him the scourge sorcerers are manipulating—with a certain amount of skepticism. But this is the perfect chance for us to free some of those captured daimon.

“I know them as soon as I see them,” he assures her, and pats the quiver on his back. “I’ll only shoot the captured daimon. I can guide the arrows well with the power I have. If my effort doesn’t break their body, the arrows will show you which ones you should go after.”

Emor raises his eyebrows. “What if you run out of arrows?”

It appears Rheave has already considered that possibility, because he answers without hesitation. “I’ll send my power on its own. I don’t want to burn anything too badly when there’ll be a lot of people around, but I can char their hair as a signal.”

He sets his fingers against the wall with a spurt of crackling energy. When he lifts his hand, a small scorch mark remains.

The rebels stare at it for a moment, Emor’s shoulders stiffening. This is the first time they’ve seen his daimon powers in action.

“It’s a good thing we have Rheave on our side,” I remind them. “Otherwise we’d have no idea who the Order conjured out of clay.”

---