Page 12 of Grave Situation

“Yeah. It’s… complicated. Still some things to sort out. I’ll try to meet you for dinner, but not sure if it’ll happen.”Which reminds me, I need lunch. Lack of food isn’t going to help this headache.

“Are you sick? Something isn’t right.”

Aw. She really loves me.“A headache. I’ll see a healer when I have a second. I’m fine, Tia, I promise.”

“So you wouldn’t have any idea why the dragons are all restless today?”

I meet Master’s gaze.

“Are they? Why? Something to do with the other week?”

Her mental sigh is clear and makes me feel guilty.“I don’t know. They’re being very closemouthed. I’m worried about Leicht.”

Yep, lots and lots of guilt. It’s not a common feeling for me, and I don’t like it.

“Leicht will be fine. You know dragons have their own fucked-up culture. He’ll share with you when he can. I have to go—I’ll let you know if I can make it to dinner.”I break the connection before she can reply.

“The dragons are restless but not talking,” I report. “I guess that means they can sensethat.” I point to the box. “Why do you even have an empty box sitting on your desk? You’re not a useless-trinket kind of person. Did you know this would happen?” The least he could have done was warn me.

“If I’d known this would happen, I would have chosen a different career path,” he retorts, and something settles inside me. It’s a relief to know I’m not the only one who’s thrown by this. “I’ve had that box for nearly thirty years, and I never had any clue why. One day I just had an urge to have it made. It’s sat there, unused, and every time I decide to get rid of it, I end up changing my mind.” He shakes his head. “Fucking prophecy.”

“I’ll second that. So… is it a special box?”

He looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “It’s a box. How can a box be special?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Does it maybe prevent anyone from sensing the stone?”

“Canyousense it?” he demands.

I shrug. “No, but… I didn’t sense it before either. Not until Wat showed it to me.”

Master frowns, and I feel a light surge of magic from him. “Try a search,” he suggests.

I blink. “For what? A rock? Master, this whole city is made of stone.”

I get another one of those looks. “There’s only one stone here that’s the essence of all life, Talon.” Somehow, he even makes my name sound like “idiot.” It’s a skill he has. I’m still working on perfecting it.

Instead of protesting that I wouldn’t even knowhowto search for the life stone—the most basic rule of searching is that you have to understand what the thing you’re searching for is—I just go along with him and give it a shot. Then I can tell him I failed and?—

“Gods’ turds!”

“So it seems the box doesn’t protect it from being found by those who are searching,” Master muses. “We’re going to have to find a diff?—”

We both freeze. In unison, we turn toward the box, jaws agape.

“Did… did that rock just disagree with us?” I whisper. I heard nothing, but…

“I certainly felt a strong sensation of disagreement.” Master Samoine takes a step toward the box.

“It’ssentient?”

Master gives me a withering look. “It’s thesource of all creation, Talon. I hardly think it having sentience should be such a surprise.”

Maybe not for him, but I’ve never come across a sentient rock before, and I find it plenty surprising.

“Well, if it’s capable of communicating, perhaps it could tell us what the—” I bite back an invective. It might be a rock, but itisthe source of all creation, and I probably shouldn’t swear at it. “What the next steps are?”

Instead of an answer, I get the feeling of mocking laughter. The rock has an attitude problem.

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