Page 92 of Gilded Locks

As her parents worked, Grace wandered the porch. She found the Stantons’ national flag lying on the ground, torn where it had been attached to a post, the bear and water emblem spotted with fibrous gold. She grabbed it by a corner, brought it to the wheelbarrow, and pointed out the floorboard that had been beneath it. Gold had spread there as well.

Only after her parents had scoured the porch, as they slipped into Sherwood Forest to deposit the gold in the crater, did Grace explain about Mayor Nautin being the gilded Rogue and the vandal, about the Zerudorn gold loose in the mayor’s copse, and about the mayor’s infection, his threats, and his plan to lie.

“He already told his story. Came out of his copse acting worn and tired, saying he’d saved you from two Rogues, but they’d escaped and you’d run off after them despite his warnings. He’s cancelled the trials, for a few days at least.”

Grace nodded and followed her parents as they carried what little Nix ice they had to the mayor’s copse and spread it around the invasive metal. It was what they could do for now. There wasn’t even going to be ice at the market to go retrieve until next month.

Grace should feel validated; taking care of the gold was their main duty as protectors. But Grace couldn’t help but feel that, while it seemed like letting the mayor keep on doing what he was doing meant dealing with the Zerudorn gold, leaving the wound to fester would mean failure in the end.

Chapter 23

“How do you do this on so little sleep?” Willa moaned. “I swear, farmers love to torture themselves.”

Grace squinted against the sunlight, wishing away the headache throbbing in the center of her forehead. Willa didn’t know what “little sleep” was. Grace had gotten maybe three hours of nightmare-haunted sleep. At least she’d been less of a zombie when she woke. “And why are you insisting on becoming a farmer?”

“I forgot.” Willa hefted her scythe with a grunt.

Grace snorted. “You made a whole hullabaloo about being accepted by us masochists to simply forget why you wanted it?”

Willa threw a bit of wheat at her.

“Hey. That’s my crop,” she cried in fake indignation, and then hissed at the pain in her head. In a way, though, she was grateful for the headache. She could hide other discomfort behind themask of physical pain. She still felt a bit hollow and put emotion into her tone through memory rather than true feeling.

Willa was keeping pace with Grace today, since exhaustion made everything feel heavier and therefore slower. The distraction, though it fell short of the fun she’d expect to feel, was appreciated. The mayor had patrolmen clomping around again, and every sighting brought a wave of sickness to Grace’s stomach. She’d taken to keeping her head down, eyes squinted, as often as she could. Willa had assumed it was the headache.

“You don’t look so good, Robbins.”

“I rolled around in the dirt before I started. That way I don’t worry about the dust getting on my clothes the rest of the day.”

“No, I mean it.”

Grace sighed. “Gee, thanks.”

“Maybe you ought to sit down.”

“The harvest…”

Willa marched to Grace, making a wide enough arc to stay well out of the reach of her scythe, and gently took the tool from Grace’s hand.

“I don’t want you swinging this near me any more.”

Grace groaned but let Willa lead her to her own porch, where she collapsed on the stairs.

Willa entered the manor and returned with a glass of water for Grace.

“Fidara’s in a lot of trouble, isn’t it?”

Assuming Willa’s question to be rhetorical, Grace stayed silent.

“I’m sick of people taking what isn’t theirs and wreaking havoc on people’s lives. The way Uncle Gustav talked, I expected a new start here.”

Grace nodded. “New start maybe, but not an ideal one. Though”—she took another sip of water—“I have thoroughly enjoyed seeing you chew out the mayor. The man doesn’t knowwhat to do. He invited you here through your uncle, probably expecting yet another scared, docile supporter. And got”—Grace gestured to all five feet of Willa—“you.”

Willa laughed. “You know, Robbins, I hadn’t thought of it that way. I wasn’t the only one fooled, was I?”

No. Secrecy abounded in this town, and Grace was mired in it all.

Grace shook her head emphatically, then hissed and stilled the motion. It felt as if her skull would burst. She pinched her eyes shut, trying to block any light.

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