Page 10 of Grave Situation

“That’s true,” Prentice says helpfully, then shakes his head again. “But no.”

“No?” The incredulous rise in pitch makes the word three syllables long.

“I have to give it to him myself,” Wat informs me. “It’s my duty.”

“Your duty.”

“Yes.”

“To deliver something to Master Samoine.”

“Yes.”

“Even though you’re not an official messenger.”

“I’m a farmer,” he volunteers, as though I couldn’t have guessed that. “I have a lovely little farm in the south of Camblin. If you’re ever traveling through the area, you should stop in. We’re always glad to have visitors.”

I clench my teeth. This is going nowhere. “Could I at leastseewhat it is you need to deliver?”

Obligingly, he digs back into his pocket and pulls out a rock.

The second my gaze lands on it, my stomach fills with lead.

Oh, fuck.

It’s a light-toned gray, irregular-shaped rock of some indeterminate kind of stone. I’ve never seen it before in my life, never seen a picture or a description. But I still know exactly what it is, because it’s not a rock at all.

Tia’s urgent tug at my mind is a distraction I don’t need, and I send a vehement“Not now!”before returning my full attention to the innocuous-looking rock in Wat’s hand.

Fuck the dragons for not being even a tiny bit more specific.

“I’ll take you to Master Samoine” is all I say. Wat and Prentice both beam at me.

“Thanks, Mage Silverbright.” Prentice winks. “I heard there’s going to be a delivery of late harvest wines for the councilors’ cellar in the next few days. Want me to see if any bottles go missing?”

I’m going to need a fucking case. I manage to scrape together a smile and slip him some coins. I don’t have much on me, but he knows I’m good for the rest. “That would be wonderful.” Gesturing to Wat, I start across the hall—sadly, not in the direction of the infirmary. Interestingly, while my headache hasn’t lessened, that blasted brain itch is gone. I cast a sour sidelong glance at the rock in Wat’s hand.

“Could you put that back in your pocket?” I ask him, more or less politely. Everyone is going to know about this soon enough, but I’d rather not cause a panic because some level-1 mage with a loose tongue went blabbing in every alehouse in the city. Besides, for whatever reason, Wat was… told… to deliver to Master Samoine, and that’s what’s going to happen.

He obligingly slips it away, and we make our way through the halls. More than one person looks at us strangely—probably because farmers don’t usually wander around the academy, andI’m not known for having visitors anyway—but I have my very best “talk to me and I will cut you” face on, so nobody dares to waylay us.

I don’t bother to knock before pushing open the door to my master’s rooms. He knows we’re coming. And sure enough, he’s standing in the middle of the room, waiting. His hair is sticking out in all directions as usual, and he hacked off the sleeves of his robe, leaving dozens of loose threads to trail haphazardly, but his face is still and closed, and the aura of his magic clings tightly to him. There can be no doubt of his power.

“Master, this is Wat. He has something for you.” I glance at Wat, who’s already stepping forward. “This is Master Samoine.”

The farmer holds out his hand, the rock in his palm. “Here you go.”

My master’s gaze scrutinizes the stone, then rises to Wat’s face. “You’ve come a long way to bring this.”

It’s not a question, but Wat nods. “Yes, sir! Been two whole weeks since I set out. I got lucky, though. My wife’s brother is a fisherman, and he sailed me all the way to this village on the Lenlese coast. Cut weeks of travel overland that way—maybe even months! Then I found this family, they had to race home in a hurry on account of their manor burning down. They let me ride on the back of their carriage. Whew, that was bumpy! But those horses were fast, and I covered a lot of ground. Only had to walk the last two days. This snow didn’t help much, though. I’ve never even seen snow before. Damn cold, isn’t it?”

Master nods, as though that isn’t one of the weirdest stories he’s ever heard. “And how did you find this?”

Wat shrugs. “I’ve been tilling the fields for the winter planting. We get a nice season of crops through the winter, not like here, where it snows. I went out one morning, and it was just there.”

I can’t hold my tongue. “It was just there.”

“Yep. In the middle of a furrow. I swear it wasn’t there the night before. I’d have noticed a rock that big. Probably would have nicked my blade.”

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