Page 152 of Grave Situation

Sweetie nickers and nudges me with her nose, and I sigh. “Yeah, I know. I’m in a mood. I just learned something terrible. For me, that is. I don’t know if it will affect you at all.”

She snorts and shoves me, sending me stumbling two steps back. “Hey! What was that for? It’s almost like you want it to?—”

I break off and stare at her as a long-forgotten afternoon of temple stories from my childhood filters through my memory. The local priestess had been trying to interest more of the children in the area in coming to temple, and she’d decided the best way to do that was to tell tales of the gods’ adventures. Most of them were about her goddess, Salella, but a few of the others got their turn as well. They weren’t the usual boring, moralistic stories we heard at temple; instead, these were the stories of Malna challenging the tide, of Salella living amongst the birds, and how she came to name them sacred to her. Of Wasianth whiling away the days racing against the plainsmen in what later became Meswyn on his beloved steed, Frestin. The horse he wasso attached to, there are tales to this day of them still being together.

Sweetie stares back at me, and I swallow. “Frestin?” I whisper, then shake my head and chuckle. “I’m being ridiculous. The stone might have confirmed the stupid theory, but that doesn’t mean you’re a god’s reincarnated horse.”

She blinks, her stupidly long eyelashes sweeping down and up, and impulse makes me say, “But just to cover all possibilities, if youareFrestin, nudge my shoulder three times fast.” I absolutely don’t hold my breath.

Sweetie just blinks at me again, and I exhale on another laugh, surprised by how disappointed I am. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I better get back upstairs. There’s still a lot to talk about.” Like how we’re going to break this news to Arimen. I’m not sure if he’s going to be thrilled he knows a godsborn or devastated that it’s me, the least godly person he’s ever met. “You get some rest, hey? We won’t be here too long.” Not now that we know where “the birthplace” is, and yay for going back to the home I couldn’t wait to get away from. Maybe my father will be there to tell me all the ways I’m a disappointment.

I turn to leave and nearly go flying when Sweetie shoves my shoulder—one, two, three times.

Catching myself on the stall opposite hers, I prudently move just out of her reach, then spin around to meet her gaze.

If a horse could laugh, she would be.

“This has to be a joke,” I mumble, but if she were capable of joking, that would mean that she probably was some kind of god-horse. Or… whatever Frestin was. Is. Oh, holy gods’ turds.

Wait… can I still say that if Iamone of the gods? Am I now invoking my own waste to curse with?

This is too confusing.

“So… Frestin, huh?” I say, more because I have no idea what else to say. “I guess that must mean I’m Wasianth.” The wordsseem to hang in the air, and I shudder lightly. “Shouldn’t I have known that?”

Sweetie—Frestin—stretches her nose toward me, and I move closer to stroke it. “Damn, what am I supposed to call you now?” I ask. “And also, why didn’t you maim the person who decided to name you ‘Sweetie’?” You’d think a god-horse waiting for her partner in adventure to remember who he was would be more assertive when it came to accepting a name.

She pulls away from my hand and snaps her teeth at me.

“Wow. Were you this mean in past lives too? Fine, if you like being called Sweetie so much, I’ll keep calling you that.” I wait, just in case she actually wants to be called Frestin instead, then realize I’m waiting for a horse to communicate with me about her name.

My life has changed so much, I don’t even know what normal is anymore.

“I’m going back up to tell Jaimin that you’re not a sweet horsey like he thinks. Maybe this will finally convince him, though, after all the times you— Hey! Were you trying to matchmake me and Jaimin?” My jaw hangs open. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth, but it makes sense. She’s not an ordinary horse—the fact that she understood my request for her to confirm her identity proves that. And she did “coincidentally” shove me, throw me, and trip me in Jaimin’s direction a lot of times.

If a horse can look smug, that’s what Sweetie’s doing right now. I sigh. “At least I won’t have to worry about you disapproving of our relationship,” I mutter, then cringe. Apparently, I now worry what my horse thinks of my romantic partners. I’ve become one ofthosepeople. “I’ll see you tomorrow. It would be helpful if you could learn to talk before then so you can fill me in on some details.”

Her exasperated snort follows me out of the stable.

The inside of the inn is much warmer than outside, and I can hear the murmur of voices from the dining room as I pass, plus the more raucous sounds from the taproom down the hall. My stomach rumbles a reminder that it’s dinnertime and I haven’t been treating it kindly lately.

Apologize to Jaimin first, then gather the others for food.

Outside our room, I hesitate. Nothing’s changed, really. I’m still angry and confused about everything, and I still don’t know what happens next, except I’m fairly certain I’m not going to like it. The last few months have been full of that.

Squaring my shoulders, I knock softly, then let myself in. Jaimin looks up from where he’s still sitting on the bed, his posture tense.

“Why did you knock?” he asks as I close the door.

I shrug. “I don’t know. It was an extra two seconds of procrastination.” I’m hoping the comment will elicit a smile from him, but it doesn’t. His face is drawn into solemn, worried lines. I hate it. I especially hate that I’m partly responsible for it.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I shouldn’t… I don’t blame you for this. I just don’t know how to deal with it all, and we don’t seem to have any answers.”

He sags, and I cross to climb onto the bed beside him and take his hand. “You’ve been so worried about this, and I didn’t exactly take it well.”

The half-snort, half-laugh that comes from him is deeply reassuring. “I didn’t expect you to take it well, Talon. It’s… it’s not the kind of thing anyone ever thinks they’ll hear. You actually reacted a lot more mildly than I thought you would.” His fingers play with mine. “Have you talked to Samoine?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I will—but he knows I needed time to cool off.”

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