Page 101 of Grave Situation

Anyone else might call me ridiculous, might say it was a waste of a good weapon, but he merely asks, “Would you like me to hold her or sheathe it?”

Together, we get the sword back into its sheath. I take a deep breath, reach for her, then stop.

“I’m here,” Jaimin says softly. I can feel his eyes on me, but I’m focused on Tia’s face. What would she want me to do if she was here?

Finish the mission. Defeat our enemies. Make the world safe again. Look after Leicht.

Avenge her.

I take her best dagger from the sheath at her hip. The one I had made for her when Leicht bonded her. She cried when I gave it to her, the only time I’d seen her cry since we were children.“Thank you for knowing I didn’t want a fancy ring,”she’d said, referring to the gaudy ruby our father sent her to honor the occasion.“I’m keeping this until I die, and then my children will inherit it.”

That won’t happen now. But if I get the chance, this is the blade I’ll use to avenge her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I emergefrom the tent with Tia in my arms, Jaimin a step behind. Coryn and Master are waiting for us, and as I move toward the road, they fall in behind me. The dragons have all taken their positions, so there’s no doubting where to go.

Tia’s weight is heavier than anything I’ve ever borne in my life, and every step I take is painful, but none of that would be alleviated by letting anyone else carry her. I loved her best, and I owe her this, no matter how much it hurts.

Leicht is on the road itself, the other two dragons flanking him. Before him is the pyre—only a foot high, barely long or wide enough to fit her. But it’s enough.

On the other side of the pyre are the dragon riders—and Arimen.

I flinch and falter.

“He stays,”Leicht says, his tone brooking no argument.“He must see this.”

“He’s not?—”

“He stays.”

I sense that’s not a battle I’ll win, and I won’t demean the ceremony by stopping to argue about it. Instead, I continue forward. My companions split off to join the others, but I circlethe pyre so my back is to Leicht and gently lay my sister on her final resting place.

Kneeling, I take the time to cross her arms over her torso and smooth her hair away from her face—not that it was really in the way. Even on our journey, she’s kept it neatly trimmed. She even came after me with her scissors one night, demanding I let her cut my hair before Leicht confused me with an unshorn sheep.

“I promise to visit a barber more often,” I whisper. “And no more fancy inns. We’re going to get this done, and I’m not going to embarrass you anymore.” There’s a hitch on the last word, but I pretend it never happened. “I love you.”

She doesn’t reply. She never will again.

Standing, I take five steps back, just like she described. Across the pyre, Hearne lifts his face to the sky and says, “Tavia Silverbright was born a rider, and she died a rider. Her name will live for eternity, and the dragons beyond welcome her home.”

Leicht roars, and a single stream of hot flame shoots over my head and sets the pyre alight. For a long count of three, there is only Leicht’s flame, sending his rider to her next life, and then the other two dragons roar also and join him.

The tower of flame shoots high into the air, a pillar of mourning, a beacon of loss. The heat is indescribable, unbearable, but I don’t step back. Don’t look away. I can’t. Even when my knees begin to shake and my head spins, I will not willingly dishonor Tia by stepping back.

A sudden, solid presence at my back, shoring me up, startles me. What?—

The wet kiss against my neck answers my question. Sweetie. She nickers in my ear and stands firm, bracing me, even as the flames rise higher and hotter.

Then they stop, and more than anything, I want them back. Because there’s nothing left of my sister except rapidly scattering dust.

I turn my face into Sweetie’s neck and weep.

“We spoke to the boy earlier,”Hearne tells me and Master. They and Kanesha are preparing to leave, and Jaimin and Coryn are striking camp. They’d planned to stay here another night, but I can’t. It’s only noon—we’ll be able to cover a decent amount of ground before we need to stop, and the horses are well rested. “He gave us more details about this sanctuary. We’re going to circle over it and hope the dragons see something that might be valuable, and then I’m certain the councils will want to discuss this.”

“I am too,” Master agrees grimly. “Whatever the temples are up to, they’ve crossed a line now. If we must use this secret… monastery, or whatever it is, to discredit them, then I have no compunction about doing so.”

It’s somewhat harsher than the stance he was taking earlier, but I think Tia’s pyre ceremony affected him more than he expected. For myself, I would happily see every temple on the continent razed to the ground at this particular moment, so I merely nod—and lean against Sweetie. My horse hasn’t left my side since the ceremony.

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