Page 84 of Grave Situation

Just as I can’t let go of her hand.

So I kneel on the muddy road beside her rapidly cooling body, staring at her face, so peaceful and still, while behind me, Jaimin and Coryn make a show of asking the acolytes about themselves.

“It’s settled, then,” Jaimin says at last. “Arimen will come with us. If there are any belongings you’d like to bring with you, collect them now. You’ll camp here with us tonight. Is that horse yours or the temple’s?”

“T-The temple’s, s-sir.” It’s a breathy whisper, terrified and unhappy. Does Arimen not want to trek across the continent on a holy mission? Too fucking bad.

“I’m certain the bishop would be happy to consider her a loan. Though I’ll need to check her first.”

“Of course,” the bishop agrees, seemingly relieved to have things settled. “We’ll return to our temple now, and Arimen will be back in a few hours. I must send that report.”

“Yes. You must,” Jaimin agrees, and somehow, he makes it a threat. I’ve never seen this side of him before, and I wish I could enjoy it more.

I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy anything again. How can I? Half of me is missing.

“Bishop?” another voice says tentatively. “What about the archers?”

“Leave them,” Jaimin orders instantly. “We’ll take care of their remains.”

A shock runs through me.Remains?Did Coryn do that? When?How?

I hear horses moving away and the low murmur of voices, and then Jaimin and Coryn are with me, one on either side.

“The riders will be here by morning, I’m sure,” Jaimin murmurs. “Let’s get off the road and set up camp.”

I shake my head. “I can’t let her go.”

“Don’t worry,” Coryn says softly, patting my shoulder. “You won’t have to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I don’t sleep,despite Jaimin’s coaxing. He and Coryn don’t sleep much either—I can hear them talking in the wee hours. After Jaimin set up my tent, Coryn carried her off the road and laid her inside—I didn’t have to let go of her hand even once. They bring me food, but I can’t eat it. Even thinking about it makes me feel ill. Instead, I sit with my sister in the dim light of the lamp, a blanket around my shoulders to ward off the winter night.

Just before dawn, Jaimin comes to check on me.

“Did the acolyte come back?” I ask, not looking away from Tia. My eyes are exhausted, burning, but I barely allow myself to blink.

“Yes. Leicht wouldn’t let him into camp, though, so I set up a tent for him right beside the road.” He told me last night that Leicht has set himself up as guardian of the camp, his body a shield behind us, his tail curled around to make a barrier in front.

“Not Tia’s te?—”

“Not Tia’s tent,” he assures me. “He has mine. But his belongings are pitiful, Talon. We’ll need to get supplies for him—he doesn’t even have a bedroll.”

He can sleep in the mud for all I care.

Jaimin must guess what I’m thinking, because he sighs. “Now’s not the time to talk about this. I’m going to bring you some tea and bread. Please eat.”

I automatically shake my head, my stomach rebelling.

“Just the tea, then,” he persists. “You must be thirsty. A few sips at a time.”

My throat’s still sore, and my mouth is parched. I guess I could manage some tea. “Thank you.”

His hand brushes over my shoulder, a fleeting touch, and I wish he’d stay and let me lean into him.

The weak light of dawn is filtering into the tent when he returns and nudges the tin mug into my free hand. It’s hot, almost painfully so, but I lift it to my cracked lips and sip gratefully. Iwasthirsty.

“Did you talk to Master Samoine?” he asks, barely above a whisper.

---