Page 175 of Grave Situation

“Not here yet,” Arimen says, startling me as he brings his horse up alongside me and Coryn. “Holy father, I’m so glad to have found you. I beg you, free me from this duty. He has the stone—take it, and let me leave the company of these savages and return to my studies.” His green eyes are wide and earnest, and if he hadn’t started with a flat-out lie, I might actually have thought he meant it all. I make an outraged choking noise to give his story some credibility.

The high priest looks confused for a moment, then blinks as though remembering something. “You are the acolyte who was assigned to ensure the holy stone remained safe?”

Arimen bows his head. “Yes, most holy. I am Arimen, from the Sanctuary.”

Uncle shifts impatiently in the saddle, but the high priest studies Arimen’s downturned face. “You say the godsborn isn’t with you? You know of whom I speak?”

Nodding, Arimen says, “The Baswegian told them the prophecies, and theydesecratedthe holy temple at Caimae to find a sacred engraving.” His voice trembles with repressed fury, and I have to admit, I didn’t think his acting skills were this good. Coryn shifts slightly, catching my gaze, and I shake my head infinitesimally. Our odds haven’t changed—we need to get out from the trees, where we’ll have more room to fight and Leicht will be able to help. The other two dragons, too.

“A sacred engraving?” the high priest repeats. “The Baswegian prophecies didn’t say anything about that.” He shoots me a scathing look. “And no matter what story Silverbright has made up for his mage friends about the gods acting through him, we of the temples know the truth.”

Do they, though? It doesn’t seem like it. But if he knows we told the councils that Wasianth would act through me, then his source—the necromancer mastermind—is a councilor. That information was restricted to the combined councils to prevent excessive disruption to my life later.

More puzzle pieces click together.

“That story was made up,” Arimen agrees. “They didn’t want the councils to know about the godsborn. But the Baswegian said it’s a thing with their prophecies that sometimes they don’t become clear until the moment the information is needed, and then they realized there was this one line, I think it was scroll thirty-two? Or maybe twenty-three? I-I-I’m sorry, I’ve never seen the prophecies and?—”

“Yes, yes,” the high priest interrupts. “So the prophecy guided you to the temple?”

Arimen nods. “Yes, most holy. There was a stone in the wall with an engraving, and whenhe”—he tips his head toward me—“read the sacred words, the life stone began to hum, and then the godsborn came out of one of the inner chambers.” He rolls his eyes up as if in religious ecstasy, and I fight to hold in a laugh. “It was the living being of holy Wasianth, and I wept for joy.” His expression turns scathing. “These savages had no respect.”

My uncle is starting to look confused, but the two priests are enthralled. “You saw him?” the priestess breathes. “Did you speak to him?”

A hand flies to Arimen’s mouth to cover his gasp. “I did not dare! I am merely an acolyte and not worthy. But he spoke to us,and said we must come here and he would meet us when his task was complete.”

“Weasel,” Peiris mutters from behind us, and the priestess glares at them.

“What task?” the high priest demands, and Arimen spreads his hands.

“He did not say, and I would never dare ask.”

The high priest presses his lips together. “You will come with us,” he declares. “All of you. Until the godsborn arrives, you will be our guests.”

I’m pretty sure that with my father on trial for treason, I own this place now, but I don’t get a chance to point that out.

“What?” my uncle whines. “I want to kill Talon.”

“I really don’t know where all this hostility is coming from,” I murmur. “Could it be because I’m younger, better-looking, and a more Talented mage than you?”

He makes a strangled screeching sound, and one of the zombies starts toward me.

“Call it off, Uncle, or I’ll aim my magefire atyou. The zombie may kill me, but you’ll be dead also.”

The zombie freezes midstep, and that tells me everything I need to know. My uncle hasn’t used transference to spare his soul—he still fears death. Whether he doesn’t know about it or didn’t have the skill for it, I don’t care. He can be killed without fuss.

“Stop this foolishness,” the high priest orders. “You can kill him later.”

Uncle glares, but finally jerks his head sullenly. “Let’s go.”

We fall in behind them, and I reach out to Leicht.“Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

“Wait for my signal. Are there more zombies around the house?”

“Yes. Perhaps two score that I can see in the grounds, and more elsewhere on the estate. They’re just standing vacantly—I don’t think they’re armed.”

That’s good.“When I tell you, take my uncle. I’m sorry to thwart your vengeance, but he needs to die fast, before the zombies can attack.”

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