Page 65 of Grave Situation

He’s coming with us, isn’t he?I ask the stone. Its positive pulse is smug. A horrifying thought strikes.He’s not the champion, is he?

A strong negative, and I breathe a little easier. He’s a good fighter—the best, if Haftel’s right. He’s pleasant enough to talk to. And he’s definitely pretty—he’ll be something to look at during our travels.

“Could you come with me for a moment? There’re some people I’d like you to meet.” I reach out to Tia. She’s going to love this.

Haftel points us toward a small parlor where we won’t be disturbed, and Coryn happily follows me there.

“Are you really a mage?” he asks as I make myself comfortable in a plush chair. “Only every mage I’ve ever seen wears robes.” He eyes me. “And is older.”

“You’re probably used to seeing masters,” I explain. “They’re older because it takes them a while to become masters.”

“What about the robes?” He leans against the mantel and folds his arms, but it’s not an intimidating posture. Instead, he looks entirely too delicious. “Mage Silverbright?”

I blink and drag my thoughts away from their contemplation of his bulging arm muscles. “What? Oh, robes. They’re uncomfortable.” The steward or whoever has the responsibility of looking after my room had the forethought to supply a robe for me. It was fresh and new and wrinkle-free… and I completely ignored it. If the people of Lenledia won’t take me seriously as a mage purely because I’m not wearing a robe, that’s their mistake.

Coryn nods sagely. “If I was a mage, I wouldn’t wear them either. All that material flapping around… how’s a man supposed to fight like that?”

Mages don’t usually fight with swords and fists, but pointing that out might shatter the tenuous connection between us that I definitely am going to need to convince him to abandon his life to go up against zombies. In the winter. So I just smile. “Do you want to sit down? They should be here in a moment.”

He shakes his head and taps the ceremonial sword at his waist. “Can’t. Not on that kind of chair, anyway. The scabbard isn’t designed for it.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Just another reason to be glad I’m not a soldier. “Could you sit on the arm of one of the chairs? This might take a while, and I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Or we could have a different kind of chair brought in.” Something without arms.

He smiles sunnily at me. “You’re so nice. I’m okay, though. Thank you.”

The door opens then, saving me from having to think of anything else to say, and Tia and Jaimin come in.

“What did you— Whoa. Hello.” My sister’s jaw drops at the sight of Coryn, and I can’t say I blame her. With the light from the lamps gleaming off his golden curls and his smile still in place—not to mention the muscles—he’s something to behold.

Then he straightens, takes a step forward, and sweeps an elegant bow. “My lady, it is my honor and pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Tia breathes, and I choke back a laugh. “That is… I mean… please don’t call me lady.” Her flustered words are matched by the red that stains her cheeks, and as Coryn straightens, I intercede. She can thank me later.

“This is Guardsman Coryn Kelter,” I say. “Coryn, meet my sister, Rider Tavia Silverbright, and Master Jaimin Kahwyn.”

Coryn’s face brightens. “You’re a dragon rider? That’s amazing! Is the dragon here?” He looks around as though the thirty-foot-long dragon—plus tail—might have followed Tia into the room. “Can I pet it?”

Sense returns to Tia with a rude slap, and she shoots me a look that saysOh.I know exactly how she feels. “He’s outside the city right now,” she says gently. “It’s not a good idea to pet dragons without their permission, though.”

The crestfallen expression on that pretty face is just too much to bear.

“I’ll ask him,” she continues. “But I can’t promise he’ll agree.”

I reach out telepathically and let her hear my mental laughter.

Coryn brightens again. “Thank you. You’re just as nice as your brother.” While Tia chokes on that, he turns to Jaimin. “You’re a mage too?”

“A healer,” Jaimin corrects. “Would you like me to help with that scrape on your lower back?”

“That’s kind, but I couldn’t put you to the trouble. Healers are precious, and it’ll be much better tomorrow. I slept on the stairs, is all.”

Jaimin blinks. “Pardon?”

“I slept on the stairs,” Coryn repeats. “There was a leak in the barracks roof right above my bed last night, so I couldn’t sleep there.”

“No, of course. But… when you say you slept on the stairs…?”

He nods. “I didn’t want to clutter up the floor in the bunkroom or the hallways, because you never know when we’re going to get called out. People would not be happy to trip over me. But the stairs up to the old watch room have been blocked off for years, so nobody ever goes there. It was the best place to stretch out.”

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