corner of the building, and shivered as I saw the black iron gates leading to the cemetery. Every compound had one, inside the gates, so we could mourn our dead. Compared to the horror show out front, the somber, carved gravestones were practically a relief.
But they hid the truth. Part of me understood the lesson King Richard had been trying to teach me, when he showed me his cave of doom. The lesson he’d wanted his son to learn after the uprising in Quondam, with this vulgar display. It wasn’t just that he was brutal and sadistic. It was more calculated than that. It was impossible to ignore this kind of carnage. It was a reminder that the pleasantries of the compounds—breathable air, fresh produce, a weekly dose of elixir—were the utopian side of our new reality.
If the two races coincide peacefully, both survive. But if they didn’t…
Live together, or die apart.
This was the dark underbelly of that same reality; the contract of our kingdom was forged with blood and death. And were it not for the compounds, it would be open war again.
We walked up the path into the overgrown cemetery. Winged statues of angels and tall headstones stood crookedly, guarding their charges.
“I don’t know,” I said. Some smaller trees and shrubs had pushed up through the graves, disturbing the remains, and I saw more than a few bones lying on top of the soil, wrapped in cages of gnarled roots.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, frowning at the neat rows of graves. “What I saw, it was in the trees, not in the open like this.”
“This way?” Luke picked up a skeletal arm pointed forward towards the trees, then yanked a ruby ring from the bony finger.
“Put that back,” I said.
“Make me,” Luke taunted, breaking off two of the corpse’s fingers to flip me off.
Trevor stood over him with his arms crossed, and Luke finally scowled and made a big show out of restoring the artifact.
“Not like he’ll miss it,” Luke grumbled. “And anyway, isn’t this what we came for?”
“We’re not grave robbers,” I said. “I don’t think.”
“This way,” Jazmine said, ducking under a large hole that had been torn through the perimeter gates. What I’d mistaken as boulders were actually worn tombstones leading up the hill, mostly buried in sediment.
“There,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief as I finally recognized something. I headed towards the gnarled trunk of a crooked tree, and then I saw it. It just looked like a misshapen boulder at first, but I dug the dirt and ash away from the stone with my fingers until I could see a small symbol etched into the surface.
jp
John Pattern.
“I thought he was executed?” Trevor asked, leaning closer.
“The whole town was. Damien must have come back and defied his father’s order by burying his friend.”
“So now what?” Luke asked.
“Now, we dig,” Jazmine said, slapping him in the stomach with a shovel. We took turns with the portable tools we’d brought with us. Soon the light was fading.
“Hurry up,” Luke said uneasily, leaning against the tree during yet another water break. “We still have to get back in one piece.”
“Maybe you should be helping then,” Trevor grumbled.
“Ah, I’d love to, but you just take up so much space. Plus, my palms are blistered up.”
“Wimp,” Jazmine said, taking the shovel from Trevor. I swiveled my head when I heard the metal of her shovel strike something hard.
I pulled back the dirt with my bare hands until I could make out the lid of a large chest. This is it. This is what Damien wanted me to see. I almost couldn’t believe it was really here.
It was an ornately carved wooden trunk, inlayed with bits of bronze. I was just reaching for the lid when a terrible shriek made me cover my ears.
Slagpaw.
“Shit, that sounded close!” Luke said, his eyes widening with panic. He gripped the handle of his rifle tightly, aiming the barrel into the shadows.
“Remember, no shots unless necessary,” I said, gripping my bow and nocking an arrow. “Or we’ll give away our location.”
“I’m pretty sure they already found us,” Jazmine said, pulling out her swords.
“Grab the chest,” I said, “we’ll cover you.”
Trevor frowned, but didn’t argue. He and Luke grabbed the handles of the chest and heaved it out of the ground, in a cloud of dust. The boys shuffled down the hill, past the gravestones and into the ruined church. I followed slowly, walking backwards with my bow raised. I