Page 135 of Grave Situation

Coryn purses his lips and looks Peiris up and down, his eyes lingering on the bloody sword. “You killed six of them?”

“I did. All by myself.”

The sunny smile I’ve gotten so used to appears on Coryn’s face. “That’s wonderful! I’ve been worried about protectingeveryone on my own, you know? Especially in places like this, where Leicht can’t help.”

Peiris isn’t quite as enthusiastic yet. “And Leicht is?”

Coryn points up before I can stop him. “Dragon. Didn’t you notice him?”

Knowing brown eyes turn to me, and I try to look innocent.

“I noticed. Who is the dragon rider among you?” Their eyes skim over all of us, and we clearly come up wanting. I don’t blame them—none of us fits the description of a dragon rider, except maybe Coryn. But that’s a stretch.

Coryn’s smile dims. “She died. Leicht wanted to stay, though, so?—”

“Okay, let’s explain later,” I cut in. The stone might say Peiris is coming with us, but I’d like to know more about them before we start telling secrets. “I need to go burn the zombie pieces, and it’s going to be dark soon. Arimen and I thought the temple might make a good place to sleep tonight—it has doors and everything.”

“The temple of Wasianth?” Peiris asks, and when I nod, adds, “For a group this size, it would be excellent. Especially if you have horses, as you said.”

Arimen gasps. “We can’t bring horses into the temple!”

“They’re children of the gods,” I say flatly. “I’m sure Wasianth won’t mind. He loved horses—remember his favorite horse, Freshy?”

“Frestin!” he corrects indignantly. “His horse’s name wasFrestin,and he loved her so much that she lives with him in the afterlife.”

“That’s what I meant. Frestin. So he’d be fine with horses in the temple.”

While he’s sputtering and Peiris is biting back a smile—one of the few signs of a personality I’ve seen from them—I say to Jaimin, “Can you leave the rest for now?”

He frowns. “Do I have a choice?”

I’m going to pay for this later. “Will I lose my arm if you pause the healing for a while?”

His affronted expression tells me everything I need to know. “Your arm could be hanging by a flap of skin, and I’d be able to save it,” he retorts, then grimaces. “Most of the time. Fine. Let’s get this shirt off you and use it as a sling, though.”

Shirt… off? “Uh, how about I just hold my arm against my body?” The thought of having to lift my arm to get my shirt off has that bile rising in my throat again. Even though Jaimin’s deadened the pain, it still doesn’t feel normal.

“How about you do as you’re told?” His stern expression relaxes into a smirk. “The shirt is ruined, Talon. I’m going to rip it so you can take it off without moving your arm.”

I want to protest—I really like this shirt—but upsetting Jaimin seems like a bad idea, not to mention there are assorted zombie body parts currently meandering around, and that’s definitely a bad thing. So I sigh and nod. Someone is going to buy me a new shirt when this is all over.

He rips it with an efficiency I find very attractive—I’m going to need to stop getting rid of my clothes when they’re no longer suitable for wearing. He can rip them off me instead—and quickly binds my arm to my torso.

“Donottry to lift it,” he cautions. “Let’s?—”

“Uh-oh.”

We look at Arimen, whose pale face is even paler than usual. “What’s wrong?” Coryn demands. Arimen lifts a shaking hand and points down the street.

“I think the zombies are trying to find you.”

I’m not the only one whose jaw drops at the sight of assorted limbs dragging themselves along the cobblestones in our direction. Limbs with hands and toes attached—basically,digits that can be used to facilitate movement. I imagine the torsos are still stuck where they fell.

Peiris must be thinking the same thing I am, because they say, “I’m surprised the heads didn’t roll along too. Do you think it’s the incline of the street that’s stopped them?”

Arimen makes a retching sound.

“It could be,” Jaimin agrees, going to check on our young friend. “Or it could be that heads aren’t perfectly round, so they might be rolling on an elliptical trajectory.”

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