Page 107 of Grave Situation

“I’ll ask Jaimin and Coryn to talk to Arimen about the sanctuary,”I concede. Since it seems like he’ll be talking anyway, it might as well be about something useful.

“Or you could do it,”Master counters.

“I don’t—”The pulse of the stone cuts me off.

“Talon?”Master’s voice is sharp, worried.

“It’s fine. I think… I think the stone wants us to leave the road.”That can’t be right.

A series of images rises in my mind’s eye: us, on the road; that oddly forked tree up ahead; us turning our horses off the road when we get to the tree, heading…east?

I blink the images away and peer ahead to the tree, looking for any sign of a turnoff. Part of me is aware of Leicht circling back from his scouting position ahead of us, veering off to the east to check for… anything.

Because there’s no road. Not even a goat track. And if I remember the map correctly, this part of Camblin is just farms, most of them lying fallow for the winter. We’re still not far enough south to get a reliable winter crop.

I rein Sweetie in. “Hold up for a moment.”

Jaimin circles his gray back to stop beside me. “What is it?”

“The stone wants us to turn here.”

He looks around. “Where, exactly? There’s nothing.”

“Talon?”

Turds.

“Master, the stone wants us to leave the road. I’ll update you when I know what’s happening.”

He sends an acknowledgment, and then our connection fades.

I glance up and down the road, see nobody, and pull the stone from its pouch. “Here?” I demand. “Really?”

~Yes~

“Ohhhh,” Arimen sighs. I try to block it out.

“To be clear, you want us to turn left at that forked tree?”

~Yes~

“Where there’s no road?”

~Yes~

This time it’s accompanied by a hint of impatience.

“Don’t get snippy with me. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good road that heads east somewhere along here—can’t we take that?”

~No~

Ignoring it, I fumble in my saddlebag for Tia’s map, wishing she was here. Reading maps isnotmy strength. Nevertheless, I get it unfolded—with my one free hand—and peer along the line that denotes the highway.

“Talon,” Jaimin begins, “maybe we should?—”

“There!” I jab at the map. “We should be there sometime tomorrow, right?” I glance at Jaimin. He sighs, leans in closer, and studies the map.

“Probably in the early afternoon,” he agrees.

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