Page 174 of Grave Situation

A crowd of silent, expressionless people melt out of the trees to surround us.

CHAPTER FIFTY

We pullthe horses up sharply. If Wasianth has any knowledge of whether animals are affected by zombie scratches and bites, I haven’t found it yet, so we made the decision to be careful with our horses. Coryn and Peiris draw their swords, and I gather my magic, but the zombies don’t attack. They just stand there, circled around us. Coryn looks to me for guidance, and I do a quick headcount.

Twenty-five.

Between us, we could probably take them. But…

I try to think like Coryn. This isn’t a public road, so the trees press close and there isn’t a lot of space to maneuver. Leicht can’t help us when we’re under such dense cover. Jaimin might be able to defend himself, but he’s armed only with knives, and any zombie that came within reach of those would be too close for my liking. Arimen absolutely cannot defend himself. Plus, we’re surrounded, and we don’t know how many more of them are in the woods.

Fuck. I open my mouth?—

“My dear nephew. What a charming surprise.”

—and close it again as Uncle Domys rides down the road toward us, flanked by an older man and a young woman. Thewoman seems familiar to me, somehow, but that thought is knocked aside by the realization that they knew we were coming. They had to, to have had time to get their horses saddled and ride down from the house. How, though?

“You’re surprised to see us, of c?—”

“Not really,” I interrupt flatly, because I’m not willing to give him any satisfaction. My gaze skims casually over his companions, whose clothing identifies them as part of the temples. The man’s a priest of Wasianth—the high priest, according to his sash, and I hope Jaimin is keeping an eye on Arimen. The last thing we need right now is him deciding to give a lecture on service to the gods.

The woman serves Malna, and again I feel that tickle of familiarity. I haven’t had that much contact with the temple of Malna—the most significant was my clash with the high priestess in Len?—

Ah. She was with Hierane and Coryn’s father that night. I can’t remember her name, but that’s not too significant. “Priestess.” I smirk. “How unfortunate to see you again.”

She smirks back. “For you, perhaps.”

“Yes. That’s why I said it. I’d really hoped never to encounter your kind again.”

Her jaw drops and she sputters, and the high priest narrows his eyes. “You will show respect when speaking to a?—”

“No.” A singular hatred I didn’t know I felt echoes through the word as I lock eyes with him. He’s not particularly a memorable man—medium height and build, dark hair liberally peppered with gray, and I’d bet that beard is an attempt to hide a weak chin, because it certainly doesn’t suit him. But every atom of Wasianth within me loathes and despises what this man has done in my name. “You will not speak to me of respect.”

His mouth snaps shut, and his jaw works frantically. I try not to wince as I realize I used some god power when I gave that order.

“What did you do to me?” he croaks finally, obviously having given up on his plan to lecture me about respecting the temples.

I don’t bother to answer, turning my gaze back to my uncle. “Was there something you wanted?”

“One of our spies saw you getting off your ship and sent a bird to let us know,” he says, proving everything I’ve ever thought about his intelligence.

“That’s nice for you. Irrelevant, but nice. Anything else?”

He flushes dark red. His face, which is an older, less attractive version of my own, always manages to look a little bit mean, but anger really brings it into focus. “Don’t talk to me that way, boy. You might think you’re special, but you’re going to die in the dirt just like your bitch sister.”

Time stops as my rage rises to consume me, echoing through the woods on Leicht’s unholy scream. The other horses dance nervously as my uncle and his cronies look up in fear, but Sweetie is solid as a rock beneath my shaking limbs. I raise a hand, magic pooling around my fingers?—

“He’s mine,”Leicht demands.“I will make him suffer untold agonies of fear before I let him seek solace in death.”

The shaking stops, and I take a deep breath as I lower my hand, letting the kinetic power that is my magic resume its path through my energy meridians. By the time they take their eyes off the glimpses of sky above us, I’m even smiling a little.

“I’ll ask again, Uncle. Was there something you wanted, or are we going to stand here all day?”

My composure seems to rattle him, and he glances at the high priest, then says, “If it was up to me, you’d already be dead. We’ve been trying to kill you for months—ever since he got hisanswers. We could have done the rest of it ourselves… though we didn’t know you’d come here. But you just wouldn’t die.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the last bit is pretty clear. “I’d apologize, but I’m not interested in making you happy.” They’ve been trying to kill me sincehegot his answers?Heis presumably the mage behind all this, but what answers? And they could have done the rest of?—

“Where is the godsborn?” the high priest demands, obviously out of patience, and a puzzle piece slips into place.

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