Page 108 of Grave Situation

“And it’s a perfectly good road, heading in exactly the direction you want. So we’ll take that.”

~No~

The sound that escapes me is a strangled scream of frustration.

“I guess we’re riding cross-country,” Coryn says. “At least the ground’s had a few days to dry off a bit since the last rain.”

On cue, we all look up at the dark gray clouds overhead.

“There is no road or village for miles,”Leicht reports.“A few farmhouses and barns. And it’s raining about two miles east of here.”

I glare at the stone. “I fucking hate you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

We makeit less than a mile off the road before the rain reaches us—or we reach it. I hunch in my saddle, my heavy traveling cloak pulled close around me, and glower at the world for at least an hour.

The world doesn’t seem to notice. Or if it does, it doesn’t care.

Stupid world.

Finally, I sigh and twist halfway to see what the others are doing. They went suspiciously silent—and by “they,” I mean Arimen—while I was sulking.

Through the miserable rain, I note that Jaimin appears to be deep in thought, Coryn is alertly scanning the open—and deserted—fields around us, and Arimen… Well, Arimen is also looking around, but his expression is one of innocent delight and pleasure.

“What are you so happy about?” I bark, then wince. I swear, I didn’t mean it to come out so harshly. Though, in my defense, I’m cold and wet, my sister’s dead, I’m somehow bonded to a dragon, the continent is on the brink of war with zombiesandcivil war, and tonight I’m going to have to camp in the mud. From my perspective, there’s nothing to smile about.

Arimen’s face falls, and his lower lip trembles, but he sets his jaw and says, “I like the rain. After rain, things grow.”

Oh, blergh. I resist the urge to point out how much damage rain can cause—floods, landslides, idiots falling facedown into puddles and drowning—and instead grunt. “Come up and ride with me. I have questions for you.”

His eyes get big, and he casts a glance at Coryn, who nods encouragingly with a big smile. Hesitantly, he nudges his horse forward. I was relieved to see that he’s a competent rider—probably better than I was when we first set out. Or maybe his horse is just nicer to him.

As if she can hear my thoughts, Sweetie tosses her head and snorts loudly.

“Behave, or else,” I threaten her, and Arimen sucks in a sharp breath. I glance sideways at him. “Don’t worry, Sweetie and I talk to each other that way all the time.”

For some reason, that doesn’t look like it sets his mind at ease. Oh, well.

“I have some questions for you,” I repeat. “Tell me how you came to join the priesthood.”

He blinks those big green eyes at me in confusion. Whatever he was expecting me to ask, it obviously wasn’t that.

“I… I have a calling,” he begins hesitantly, and I gesture for him to elaborate. “Temple is the one place that always felt like peace for me,” he continues. “Even when I was small, I would go as often as I could. Our village is small, but we have a Temple of Wasianth there, and the priest is so kind. He never minded that I’d visit at odd times. He let me sit quietly, or he’d tell me the histories of the gods.” He pauses, and I nod. It sounds like he really does have a calling to the priesthood and not that he was bullied into it. That’s something, at least.

With a little more confidence, he adds, “The other children would get bored during temple or when we had religiousteachings, but I never did. When I turned fourteen, my parents started talking about an apprenticeship for me, but I knew I wanted to join the temple. Wasianth’s specifically. The other gods are fascinating, but he’s… It feels like he’s my family.” Bright color suffuses his pale skin. “I’m sorry, that’s presumptuous. Of course a god isn’t?—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I understand. You felt a stronger connection to him than the other gods.” I suppose it can be compared to my connection with telepathy. Other forms of magic interest me, but telepathy is home.

He nods eagerly, encouraged by my comment. “I spoke to my priest about it, and he was overjoyed. He’s getting older, and he thought I’d be the perfect person to take over the village temple when my training was complete and he retired. Everybody knows me in the village—my father’s the baker—and my family has lived there forever. It seemed ideal.”

“It does.” Ideally boring, but just because I couldn’t wait to get away from home—and all my family except for Tia—doesn’t mean everyone’s the same. Some people like their parents.

I wonder what that feels like.

“He wrote to his superiors about me, hoping to gain permission to begin training me early—or at least to secure a place at a temple in Rebithia to train at once I came of age. We were all very surprised when the bishop came to the village to meet me.”

I straighten in my saddle. “The bishop? The same one I…met… the other day? He came all the way to the Halyn Isles to meet you?” That can’t be regular procedure. I know there are some priests whose job it is to travel to smaller villages, especially those that don’t have temples of their own, searching out any potential candidates for the priesthood. But none of them are bishops. And I very much doubt they’d bother to go allthe way from Camblin to the Isles just to meet a fourteen-year-old who’s already expressed interest in becoming a priest.

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