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“What’s worse than here?” I can’t get past the fact that my cloak is covered in filth and slapping against my legs, or that if I breathe deep enough, I can probably smell the dead piled up nearby.
“Tadekha’s Citadel.”
I’m silent at that. Tadekha was very strange, true. She fed me and clothed me—and okay, made me sex crazed—but I’m surprised to hear him say that. I don’t know what to think. Was me touching him (and him touching me) so awful that he prefers this? Why are my feelings hurt at the thought? You’d think I was rubbing him off with a damn cactus instead of my very eager hands.
Arrogant jerk.
How much does it suck that I still think about that night? Like, a lot?
All the time?
Obviously I’m the only one who even gives it much thought at all. But I force a laugh to my throat. “Yeah. That was the worst, wasn’t it?”
“You nearly died and ended our journey very abruptly.”
“You were the one that wanted us to leave quickly! How was I supposed to know the rope was too short?”
“I was referring to the fact that we were both suffering from the parting sickness, but come to think of it, you nearly died twice.” His tone is utterly sour.
Before I can make a protest to that accusation, there’s a low, creaking groan that rolls through the cemetery. Aron pauses, his hand going to my breast as he pulls out one of his blades. I want to point out that he’s grabbing dangerously close to tit-meat, but the look on his face is anything but playful.
There’s danger here. I scoot behind him, my heart pounding as the nighttime cemetery is silent around us except for the blowing wind that teases at my hair.
The creaking sound happens again, followed by a scratching. It’s weird. The sound seems out of place here, and I squint into the darkness, trying to figure it out. “What is that?”
“Hsst,” Aron tells me with a sharp look, indicating I should be silent.
I bite back my irritation, because the sound happens again, followed by another round of scratching. Then more scratching.
Then it sounds like the entire graveyard is full of scratching.
My stomach clenches uneasily. I move closer to Aron. I want to ask what it is. Rats? Lots and lots of rats? An army of insects?
Near my feet, one of the graves shivers, the earth moving. I yelp and stumble backward, and as I do, I turn and see another mound moving, the loose dirt piled atop it rolling away so something can break free.
Oh.
My.
God.
That sound of scratching? Of groaning? It’s people trying to get out of their coffins.
Dead people.
I think of the mass grave, completely uncovered, a moment before I hear a low, gurgling moan coming from that direction.