Page 115 of Grave Situation

Her nostrils flare and ears go back, and I realize how stupid it is to offend the horse I’ll have to ride tomorrow. “I’m sorry.I’m not annoyed with you.” She’s been shockingly well-behaved lately. “Are you warm enough?”

She glares for a moment longer, then tosses her head in dismissal, and I take that as my cue to leave. It’s likely that she’ll be warmer in the shelter with the other horses than I will be in the cabin.

I deliberately dawdled over getting her settled so the others would go inside and I could have some time alone to sulk, but now that I’m actually going to have to face them all and tell them what’s happened, I realize I didn’t spend nearly long enough dawdling. I’m sure I could give her hooves more attention. Or maybe brush her coat… again. For the third time.

I hesitate midstep and cast a longing glance back toward the shelter, then sigh. Sweetie might turn carnivore and rip my throat out if I go back there.

Instead, I enter the cabin.

In my snippy mood before, I didn’t really take in the details when I dropped my pack inside the main door. Now, I do, and realize this isn’t a run-of-the-mill cabin for farmworkers to save time on travel from the main bunkhouse and back every day while working these fields. This was once someone’s home, and it’s been kept in good order. The main living space has a kitchen along one wall, with a proper stove as well as the large hearth, a cozy table, two chairs, and two overstuffed armchairs with accompanying footstools. The floor is covered with a dusty but pretty braided rug.

I raise my gaze to the loft, where I can see Jaimin’s tall form, and then movement from the left catches my eye, and I glance that way. There’s an open door, and through it I spy Arimen sitting on the end of a big bed, chatting animatedly to… Coryn, I hope. I can’t see him from this angle, but I can’t imagine who else it would be.

A folding screen partitioning off the corner completes the cabin, and I send up a prayer to the gods that it’s hiding a tub… though the thought of having to fill it myself isn’t all that appealing.

“Could you all come in here, please?” I call. Before I can have a hot bath and hopefully a hot meal, I need to tell them the news.

“Are you okay?” Coryn asks as he emerges from the room, concern shining from his eyes, and I muster a smile. It feels twisted and off-center.

“Yes. Mostly. I know I’ve been… less than enthusiastic today. I’ll try to be better.” I really shouldn’t make promises I know I can’t keep.

Arimen pops out from behind Coryn’s wall of muscle. “All you can do is try,” he says earnestly. “Just be guided by the gods.”

Itryreally hard not to grimace. This news isn’t going to hit him well.

Jaimin comes down the ladder, his face a little wary. He’s not sure what I’m planning to say, and I feel a sharp stab of regret that I’ve made him worry about that. He deserves better from me.

“So.” I take a deep breath. “My master reached out to me earlier. The temples have responded to the demands made by the academies.” Their interest sharpens, and Arimen bites his lip.

I run them through the first parts, about reparations and apologies, and then I hesitate.

“Wasn’t there more to our demands?” Jaimin asks intently. “An apology to the mages and an assurance of our safe conduct on this mission?”

Here it comes. “Yes. They declined that part. Instead, they cast me out and declared me a fugitive.”

The words fall like stones into the shocked silence, and eventually I can’t take it anymore.

“I, uh, I haven’t consulted with the stone about this yet, but since anyone with me will probably be considered an accomplice, maybe it will release you?—”

~No~

“Or maybe not,” I concede. “I’m sorry. Hopefully if we encounter any more priests, they’ll be content to come after me and leave you all alone. It might be best if we try to avoid them, though.” I don’t want to go to prison, ever, but especially not before I finish this mission. Tia’s counting on me.

“I don’t understand,” Arimen says blankly. “How… Maybe they just need to see the stone. Once they do, they’ll stop this. We’re on a holy mission!”

His earnest naivete only makes me feel worse. “Unfortunately, it’s not possible to show them the stone at this point.” And I don’t think it would make a difference. They know what we’re trying to do, and they haven’t addressed it at all. Instead, their focus has been on retrieving the “holy relic.”

“Didn’t the councils smooth things over with the temples after we left Lenledia?” Jaimin asks. “I assumed that the bishop at the Sanctuary just hadn’t received the news yet.”

I shrug. “That’s what I thought too. But apparently, the temples told the councils one thing and then continued with their plans to arrest me anyway.” I’m a tiny bit bitter about that. I’m trying to save the world, dammit. Or at least find the person who’s going to do it. Doesn’t that take precedence over kowtowing to the priesthood?

Arimen is still shaking his head and muttering about how the temples have betrayed the gods, and why can’t they see how important this is, but Coryn is quiet.

“If we’re stopped by priests again, let me handle it,” I tell him. “Don’t do anything to get on their radar.”

His placid calm vanishes, and suddenly he’s scary Coryn—the soldier who hacks his way through the enemy and deliberately drips blood from his sword onto unconscious prisoners. “Anybody who tries to get to you will go through me,” he declares. “Anybody who tries to take the stone from you if it doesn’t want to go will meet my sword. I know what my role is on this journey, and it’s not to let you handle any trouble.”

I’d be offended by the implication that I can’t handle myself when there’s trouble, but I’m too busy being touched by the sentiment behind his words. Still…

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