the scruff on his chin and stopped me. “Oh. It’s serious, is it?”
“It is.”
“Then I’m not leaving.”
I sighed. “Grig.”
He folded his arms over his stomach. “You know, your pride is going to get you killed one day, and it’s my job as your best mate to protect you from your own self.”
“Are you certain?” The task in front of me was dangerous, but it would feel almost achievable if Grigfen was at my side.
He stepped closer. “You’re my friend, and this might be because I’m floating over my winnings at the Fisherman’s Haul, but I’m not ashamed to say you’re my hero, Ryo. Whatever it is, I won’t let you do it alone.”
The weight on my shoulders lightened. “It’s too dangerous. You should—”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re my future king, and I can’t leave you to your adventures without a squire.”
I offered my palm and he shook it. Torchlight brightened against the bones, and I must have squeezed too hard, because he winced.
“Light’s bosom, you are strong.” He shook out his hand and I laughed.
“You won big, then?”
He shook the coin purse at his belt. “Forty coppers in all. You?”
“Lady M took me for twenty-five golds.”
He whistled.
I lifted a shoulder. “She brought her granddaughter.”
Grig chuckled. “Poor fool Ryo. She found your weakness.”
I picked up my pace, and he matched my footing. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“To see my uncle.”
“Grrreeaat.” Grigfen had a way of saying things so I always knew exactly what he was thinking. “And what’s with the cup and the scroll?”
“I wouldn’t touch that.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “It’s Seer Spring water.”
“You’re bringing your uncle…” Grigfen let out a rumbling giggle I tried to hush. “Oh, this is a mighty prank. I’m glad to see it.”
I desperately wished it were as simple as a prank.
A Devout stepped forward. Her hair was shaved, her nose was dotted with red paint, and she wore gray and shapeless robes. I tugged at my coat and then chided myself for showing my nerves. The Devout could use a portion of the Undergod’s power to see the dead and perform miracles the unbelievers called magic. The truly dedicated, the priests of the Undergod, could command bones to move or control the monstrous beasts that crept from the underworld. “Hush, Grig.” I bowed to the Devout and Grigfen followed suit. “Peace and honor to you for your devotion.”
The Devout answered our bows with one of her own. “And to you for your reception.”
I held the cup behind my back. “I’m looking for my uncle.”
“His holiness is in his chambers. May I be permitted to lead you toward him?”
“I thank you for your service.”
The Devout turned. Grigfen barely held back a laugh. The shadows of his almost laugh echoed against the walls like a flickering candle.
A bead of sweat traced down my back. Well, I’d found him.
Now what was I going to say?
As the second son, Uncle Edvarg was encouraged to go into the priesthood of the Undergod. He took to it well—too well, some said. It showed too much ambition the way he ascended to the rank of high priest. People whispered about deaths they could not explain, in which Edvarg profited. My parents ignored such rumblings, and so did I.
Uncle Edvarg would help me. He had to.
The catacombs air tasted of silt, torch oil, and candle wax. The bone walls seemed almost made of bricks, each bone slightly different, but united in their anonymity. The office of the Holiest was open, the wrought iron door held ajar by a loose stone. Inside a room of bones, Uncle pored over a map at his gilded desk. The ceiling was formed of rib cages, with a striping of sunlight cascading on my uncle, unleashing the creator’s wisdom on anyone the light fell upon.
Uncle Edvarg’s lips pressed lightly before bending into a smile. “Nephew! So good to see you. So tell me, what did the Savak cleric want?”
“What cleric?” Grigfen asked. “I may have missed something when I was down to the tables.”
“Ah, Sir Grigfen. I thought I smelled cheap cologne.”
Edvarg waved away the Devout. She gave a low bow, touching her forehead to her wrist before exiting.
The door stayed open.
I let out a breath. It was a relief to no longer be alone with this.
“The cleric brought a gift.”
“Ah?” Edvarg squinted.
I lifted the cup.
Edvarg gestured it away, but I held it firm. “You have to see the future. Our kingdom depends on it.”