“Raven,” he called.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the saddle’s horn and leaped onto her horse’s back. The mare’s muscles rippled beneath her as she steadied herself, her face a mask of determination. She looked hard at Landyn before digging her heels into the animal’s flanks. “We’re going back,” she ordered.
A grin tugged at Landyn’s lips, and he nodded.
She waited until he mounted his horse before spurring hers into a full-out gallop toward the church and her sister. She clung to the reins like a lifeline, her knuckles white with tension. She didn’t bother to take the longer route around the hill. She charged down the road. The wind whipped strands of her hair free from her braid, tendrils flying out behind her as if trying to keep up with her frantic pace. She was still shaking from seeing that man with the sword behind Landyn. What would she have done if…
No. She clamped her mind shut against what could have happened. She had arrived just in time to spare Landyn from harm. A wave of rage and remorse crashed through her at the knowledge of what had almost happened. She couldn’t determine whether she was angrier he had nearly been killed or that he hadn’t listened to her.
Raven’s heart raced as a thousand thoughts tumbled through her mind. What if Demory attacked Sage? Had that been Demory’s plan? To split them up and then attack? She clenched her teeth.
Her horse, Thunder, galloped past the church toward the cemetery, nostrils flaring and mane flying in the wind. The mare’s hooves sent chunks of dirt and gravel spraying as she skidded to a stop next to the two stone lions that guarded the entrance. As Raven dismounted, her heart raced. She scanned the broken fence and the overgrown tombstones beyond for Sage. She wanted to call out her name but knew that wasn’t a good idea.
Behind her, she heard Landyn’s steed stop, and his booted feet strike the ground as he dismounted.
Raven’s heart ached with dread as she spotted Brother Henry lying on the ground beside one of the stone lions. He was surrounded by smashed bread and leather ale pouches. She ran to him and knelt at his side, taking in his pale face. His eyelids flickered, and he groaned.
“Are you well?” she asked. “What happened?”
“A man shoved me down,” Brother Henry answered. “I hit my head.”
Raven’s gaze snapped toward the cemetery. “Where’s my sister?”
Brother Henry shook his head as if trying to clear it. “She went into the cemetery. I haven’t seen her.”
“And the man who hurt you?” Landyn asked.
Brother Henry nodded. “He went in, also.”
Raven slowly rose, her stare on the cemetery. “Can you make it to the church?” she asked Brother Henry.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Go. We’ll get you when it’s safe.”
Landyn offered his arm to Brother Henry, and he grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet. His robes swished around his ankles, his sandaled feet shuffling along as he tottered off, rubbing his head.
Raven passed between the stone lions and entered the graveyard. Landyn followed, the silence of the graveyard menacingly pressing against them.
“Raven,” Landyn called.
She paused to glance at him.
“We don’t know that this is Demory. If it is, we don’t know what he wants,” Landyn cautioned her. “Be careful.”
Raven nodded and continued walking, intently studying her surroundings. A cross tombstone had crumpled; its upper half had tumbled to the ground, smothered by a blanket of weeds and grass. With each step, the gnarled vines seemed to reach out and grasp her ankles, tugging her back and thwarting her search for Sage.
Raven peered around the tombstones, her eyes tracking a trail of crushed grass and trampled greenery. The path snaked between the graves, leading deeper into the cemetery. She wondered if it had been Sage or Demory who had gone this way.
She followed the line, treading over low-lying shrubbery and pushing aside weeds. Occasionally, she spotted a tombstone buried in the undergrowth. Then she spotted the formation of large boulders, jutting from the ground like bones. Unease spread through her.
Where was Sage?
Raven felt her throat tighten with anxiety, the urge to cry out for her sister nearly unbearable. But if she did, Demory would hear. With a deep breath, she buried her feelings to focus on her senses.
The weeds snapped and crackled beneath her booted feet as she moved on. They came closer to the boulders, and a sound drifted to her ears, faint and distant. She stopped in her tracks, trying to pinpoint the origin and source.
Voices.
