Page 32 of Grave Situation

Clinging to what little dignity I have left, I say,“Fine, be that way. It saves me the effort. Have you arranged our supplies?”

“Yes. But if the stone plans to take us too far off the main highway, we may run into problems with food. I’ve only got one packhorse for us, so we’re carrying a limited supply.”

I don’t know what the usual number is supposed to be or even what a packhorse really does. I guess it’s right there in the name? But why would that affect food? Surely we’ll be stopping to eat in nice, clean, well-appointed inns and eating establishments.

I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that Tia means for us to actuallyusethose tents she was talking about.“Do what you can,”I say, leaving that problem for future me to deal with. I’m the expedition leader, right? So we can stop for the night where I say, and if that means stopping in a village in the early afternoon because I’m not sure we’ll make it to the next one before nightfall, well, the stone will just have to deal with that.

I ignore the pulse of amusement from the stone. I’m the boss of it, not the other way around.

“Do we know who the healer is yet?”she asks.“I need to know if they have their own horse or if I should find one for them.”

Sighing, I tell her,“It’s Jaimin Kahwyn.”

For a split second, the only reaction I sense from her is shock.

And then she laughs. Not just mentally—she’s laughing out loud too. I can tell because it creates a telepathic echo.“This might just be the best moment of my life,”she says.

“I hate you. I’m going to talk to him now. If he needs a horse, I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, oh, please let me listen when you talk to him! Please!”

If this is sisterly love, I almost wish I was an only child.“I’m going now.”

“Fine. Have fun! And don’t worry about the horse thing—I can find out if he has one.”Her attention shifts away, and I mute the connection between us. What a day this has been.Being forced to hand my students over to someone else without ensuring they have the tools to stay alive—not the way I dreamed of ending my servitude as a teacher. Learning that I’ll have to travel with my… sworn enemy? That might be a bit harsh. But certainly the last person I ever wanted to travel with.

On a fucking horse.

Without all my things. If I can’t bring a trunk, what’s the available option? A satchel? My clothes aren’t going to fit in that, much less my books and other necessities. I’m going to need to check exactly what Tia’s packed for me. And look at a map, try to plot out which villages we can stay in.

Gods… money. I’m going to need money if we’re staying in inns. I make a mental note to speak to Master about it later. I havesome, thanks to my allowance from the family estate and the royalties I get on some clever little pieces of magic—like the warming teacup—but I really think the combined councils should be funding this little journey. Anyone who argues is welcome to take my place on horseback and in a tent.

And now… now I need to go and speak to Jaimin Kahwyn, my new traveling companion. As if yesterday’s encounter wasn’t enough to make me want to avoid him for another six years.

It’s possible my old nanny was right about karmic justice being a real thing.

Someonewith a less-than-charitable nature might suggest that I deliberately take the busiest hallways through the academy because I know I’ll be waylaid by mages with questions, thus delaying my meeting with Jaimin Kahwyn. They might say that my sudden agreeable nature in stopping to answer those questions—even though all I’m permitted to say is that anannouncement is coming soon—is another delaying tactic. They also might find it unusual that when I finally do cross the chasm to the Academy of Healers, I don’t ask for directions but instead wander around in search of the right rooms… somehow getting lost and ending up in the kitchens, the guards’ mess, and, embarrassingly for everyone involved, one of the guest receiving rooms that’s occupied by two people in a very delicate situation. The kind that requires trousers to be around ankles.

It was that last one that finally convinced me to get on with it, and while they were both scrambling to cover themselves, I said, “Oh, don’t mind me—if you could just give me directions to Master Kahwyn’s rooms, I’ll let you get back to it.”

But even though I finally made it here, I somehow can’t bring myself to knock. I’ve been staring at the door for the past five minutes. I’m just lucky this isn’t a busy corridor, or knowing healers as I do, they’d be asking if I needed counseling.

What I need is a way to travel back in time and stop myself from being a jackass six years ago. And while I’m at it, I can go further back and make sure our ancestors don’t destroyallknowledge of zombies. Because that really was the worst decision they could have made.

Since the ability to time travel isn’t one I—or anyone—possesses, I suppose I’ll just have to?—

The door opens before I can lift my hand to knock. I was going to, though. I swear I was.

“I got tired of waiting,” Jaimin informs me, that little twitch of amusement from yesterday still on his lips. “We both have better things to do than have you stand in the hallway all afternoon.”

I open my mouth to deny it, close it, then ask, “How did you know I was here?”

He holds the door wide and gestures for me to enter. “There’s some muscle soreness in your right shoulder. Minor strain.”

“And you could sense that?” No way. No way could he sense that through the door, without knowing I was here, without trying.

He closes the door, but instead of answering my question, he asks one of his own. “Would you like me to take care of it?”

I rotate my shoulder while I think it over. I woke this morning with it feeling a little stiff, likely from the way I’d been sleeping. He’s right that it’s minor—one of those everyday aches that you stop feeling after a while and know will go away on its own.

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