Page 37 of When Ashes Fall

He glowered at me. “What’s going on?”

The tone of his voice caused Gizzi to scamper down the tree. Determined to ignore him and all his negativity, I resumed digging. I pulled away more layers of earth and widened the hole. I still couldn’t see what lay beneath, but it was rectangular-shaped.

“I’m curious about what’s under here,” I said.

“What made you decide to dig there?”

I kept my attention focused on my task as I replied. “I wanted to feel the earth; it strengthens me. When I dug deeper, I discovered something, but I don’t think it’s a rock. It’s too smooth.”

Knox knelt, and before I could toss away another handful of dirt and pebbles, he grasped my wrist, ceasing my digging. His eyes burned into mine as he studied me.

“What are you up to?” he demanded.

“I’m not up to anything.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t know, Knox, why don’t you believe me?”

“I wouldn’t believe any caster.”

I inwardly recoiled a little but managed to continue scowling at him. Maybe one day I’d get used to his cutting words.

“No shit?” I retorted. “I thought you were a fountain of trust and warmth.”

If looks could kill, we’d both be dead. I tugged at my wrist; when he refused to relinquish his hold, I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking him to release me.

“Who is this guy?” the voice whispered in my head.

Knox and I remained focused on each other, neither of us willing to bend to the other. I’d rot here before I looked away.

Small scratching noises drew my attention, but I refused to break Knox’s stare. Or at least that was my intention, until Gizzi spoke.

“It’s a grave.”

“It’s a wh...?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Briar

Despite my determination not to let Knox win this battle of wills, the shock of Gizzi’s words jerked my head toward him. He dashed out of the small hole I’d created and perched at the edge of it. His nose twitched as he held his paws before him and stared at the stone.

My attention shifted from him to the hole as I leaned forward to peer at what was down there. After years of neglect, the chiseled words on the small plaque were almost indecipherable. I strained to make out the dates, and my heart sank when I realized the voice was only eight when he died.

Tears pricked my eyes. With my free hand, I traced the faded letters as I tried to decipher what some of them were, but I couldn’t quite make them out.

“Just a child. I wonder what their name was?”

“Archibald Camden,” Knox said.

Forgetting my ire with him, I glanced over at where he knelt beside me, staring at the headstone. “You can make out those letters?”

“Yes.”

A shifter’s senses were far better than those of other eternals, but this still surprised me.

“Archibald,” I murmured.