Page 100 of Grave Situation

They exchange glances. “I can’t say I like it all that much,” Hearne admits. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.” He looks to the stone. “Can you reverse this? When the mission is done, can this be undone?”

~Yes~

A sudden shiver snakes down my spine.Canthe stone reverse the bond between me and Leicht? Why didn’t we ask it about the bond? We were so focused on hiding the fact that it existed that we didn’t even think of that.

Why did the bond transfer to me?

The stone doesn’t reply, and the sense of foreboding increases. I didn’t want this bond. Never asked for it. Don’t particularly like having it. But it’s part of me now, and the thought that the stone may be able to sever it is disturbing.

“Tomorrow’s problems are for tomorrow,”Leicht informs me.“You have other priorities now. Don’t fail us all.”His tone strongly implies that he expects me to do exactly that.

Hearne shrugs. “Then I suppose the matter is settled. Leicht will continue on with you. In a way, this works out well—he’ll be able to report back immediately if he sees anything troubling, rather than having to return to you and land.”

“Er… yes.” That’s what we’ve been doing all along.

“Since that’s been solved…” He hesitates, and I take a deep breath.

“The pyre ceremony. Let’s have it now.” Delaying it isn’t going to make it less painful. And I know, deep in my heart, that this is how Tia would want to be given her final rest.

“It will take us a little while to prepare,” Kanesha says gently. “We need a clear space to prevent the fire from spreading.”

“The road?” Coryn suggests, joining the conversation with a wide-eyed Arimen at his side. “There’s no trees or anything there.”

“It might be too public,” Hearne begins, but I shake my head.

“The road is perfect. That’s where she died, and that’s where we’ll send her to her next life.” It fits perfectly, and I can feel Leicht’s agreement. I’m not sure how long it will take me to get used to this—Tia could always sense my emotions, and I hers, but she wasn’t anactivepresence in my head the way Leicht is now. No wonder she bonded him so easily—she was used to having me there all the time.

Gods, I wish she was still here. I need her more than ever.

“But what about other travelers? The dragons have already had to scare off some villagers who came nosing around.”

“Other travelers and any villagers who want to watch will do so with respect.” I don’t bother to add a threat to the end of the sentence. I don’t need to. There are three dragons here. Nobody would dare to complain about a short interruption to their journey—and if they do, Leicht will settle them with a glare.

Kanesha looks like she wants to protest, but instead she just nods, and she and Hearne head toward the road. I’ve never attended a pyre ceremony before—they’re usually closed to all except other dragon riders and close friends and family of the deceased. Tia’s told me about them, though, so I know the first step is to ensure there’s enough clear space, then a small pyre of branches is built. It doesn’t have to be big—the fire is coming from the dragons.

Squaring my shoulders, I walk toward the tent where I spent the night. Where Tia’s body lies.

Jaimin catches up to me. “I can do this, if you’d like,” he offers gently, but I shake my head.

“No. This is for me.”

Inside, nothing has changed. It’s up to me to take these next steps and ensure Tia is prepared for her pyre. Blocking out the riot of emotion that fights to break free, I assess what needs to be done.

First, the arrow. Swallowing hard, I place the fingers of one hand on her throat. The skin is cold to my touch, and that makes it easier to pretend it’s not her. With my other hand, I grasp the shaft of the arrow and pull.

It comes free more easily than I expected, and I hate that. I hate this arrow with every fiber of my being, and I snap it in half, then in half again, and when the pieces are too small to easily break, I blast them with magefire.

Not that it makes me feel better. Except for the absence of the arrow from Tia’s throat, nothing has changed. The wound is sosmall. How could something so visually insignificant have taken down my fearless sister?

It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters, except protecting her in death the way I couldn’t when she was alive.

She’s wearing her favorite dark blue leathers, and I’m glad of that. She should have them with her when she meets the gods. I hope she tells them exactly how fucked-up their temples are. Her daggers are all in their sheaths still, but the sword she wears across her back is beside the bedroll. I can’t remember why. It’s not like she would have been uncomfortable lying on it.

“Jaimin?” I call quietly. I don’t need to be loud; he’s right outside in case I need him. I know he is. He’s always here for me when I need him.

“Yes?” He joins me.

“She should be wearing her sword.”

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