“A [Grave Robber],” Finn repeated, his eyes ricocheting between the two men before him. Edrys met his gaze, Zendar did not.

“My lords, perhaps I should—?” Edrys began after a pause, taking a tentative step backward.

“No,” Zendar cut in. “Stay where you are.”

Edrys froze. He looked nervous. His tether made a movement towards him, and the small man seemed to draw strength from that.

“Zen,” Finn said again. “Zen, you brought a [Grave Robber] here. You invited him.”

He repeated the words as if through repetition he could bring himself to believe them. He waited for his brother to deny them, but Zendar stayed quiet.

“[Grave Robber] is an unfortunate label, my lords,” Edrys said, after a silence. “And misleading. I am aware of the ways in which my class is perceived by laymen, and while there are those of my Host who make use of their talents to… eh, how can I say…”

“Rob graves,” Finn said icily.

“Yes,” Edrys conceded after a moment. “Yes, I suppose that would be the vulgar way of putting it.” He gave a slight shrug, then waved his burnt fingers through the air. “While I cannot deny that, my lords, I can assure you that most of us simply render services to the living by… well, extracting, would be the better word…”

“He can talk to the dead,” Zendar said.

“Not so, my lord,” the [Grave Robber] interjected, and with that, his eyes became suddenly severe. His voice took on a steady timbre. “Nobody can talk to the dead. A sufficiently powerful [Grave Robber] can extract… analyze… the imprint of a deceased soul, but it is not truly them, no more than the ash of a burned log scattered to the winds is the tree from which it was cut.”

Finn had questions, but withheld them. His brother would still not meet his eyes. Zendar was staring vacantly across the water, and thinly veiled flashes flared in his face as his eyes cut through the morning mist.

Finn knew that look. Zendar was preparing himself, hardening himself, for something difficult to come.

Finn turned and gazed across the Marsh to where the farthest reeds met the sky in the distance. It extended beyond where the eye could see, yet he knew that had the landscape been more easily traversable, it would only take a day and a night to reach the first of the Varoni mountains. There the loosely allied Kings of Varonos held sway, but also the men of the free clans. Envisioning those peaks, and calling to mind the stories he’d heard about the type of men who sheltered beneath them, Finn felt that what they were about to do was the type of heinous act reserved solely for barbarians.

He wanted to cry out. The Aonen practice was to respect their dead, to visit the site, touch the water, honor their loved ones, and then leave. That was all.

As if he heard Finn’s thoughts, Zendar spoke. “It’s nothing like that, Finn,” he said. “It’s not what you think. I’ve been collecting information on the Hallowhoods and their practices for nearly a year. I would never do this sort of thing if I thought it could… harm her. I even spoke to Wendell. It’s like…” He gestured to the wilderness around them. “...swirling your hand through mist. There are no after-effects.” He raised an eyebrow in Edrys’s direction. “Right?”

Edrys frowned. After a moment, he said, “Again, these are crude ways of putting it, my lords, but yes, nothing will go wrong, if that is the concern. Nothing can go wrong. You have my word.”

“Your word,” Finn repeated, unable to hide a scoff. “We don’t know you. You say it’s harmless, but how are we to know that anything you say is true?”

“If you need to hear it yourself, there are ways of finding out the truth,” Zendar said. “You could [Command] him to tell us.”

“I haven’t mastered that yet,” Finn said. “He could still lie to me.”

“I won’t lie,” Edrys said. “I’m not lying. It will be clear enough to you when I begin. The dead are well beyond our reach to pollute. As lures, you will feel—”

“So we will work as lures?” Zendar asked. Finn caught a fiery look of triumph in his eyes.

“Yes,” Edrys said. “I was fairly sure, and after meeting you, I am certain. One blood relative may have been enough. Two is more than sufficient.”

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“Lures?” Finn asked.

“Something which can be used to draw the imprints of a deceased soul back momentarily,” Edrys said. “Like fireflies to a flame. A body is a powerful thing, a physical imprint left on the world, but it is far from the most important. There are imprints of the deceased everywhere. Sometimes they drift, sometimes they gather. If they haven’t gathered, we need lures, and the stronger the lure, the clearer the imprint. I don’t imagine this will be difficult. Your mother was the Lady of Aonenbridge, buried in sight of the city. That is good. You are her sons. That is even better.”

Finn still wasn’t sure.

“Zen, I…” he began.

Zendar finally met his eyes. “Finn, I know,” he said quietly. “Believe me, I know. But I need to do this. You have to trust me. You do trust me, don’t you, little brother?”

Finn did not have to think. He nodded. “It’s just… I don’t know if I trust him.”

Edrys’s frown deepened. “My lords, with all due respect, I am a [Level 9] [Grave Robber] of the esteemed Host of the Hallowhoods, I have been doing this since I was—”

“So you have done this before?” Finn asked.

“Of course,” Edrys said, sounding strained. “Countless times.”

“And you are the most… capable of your Host?”

“On such short notice, yes,” Edrys said. Then his expression changed, and he looked suddenly curious. Inclining his head towards Zendar, he said, “Might I ask why you were so hurried in your request, my lord, when you—”

“You may not,” Zendar said. “You are here, as promised. You also promised that you would ask no questions and conduct yourself with discretion. I need not remind you that you are being well-compensated for it. Enough talk. Let us begin.”

The [Grave Robber]’s mouth slackened. “I’m afraid I do require some information, my lord. The process requires that I know, for example, the exact circumstances surrounding the deceased’s death… the time of day… I also need the names of both who are buried on the site—sunken, in this case—, and, if possible, the histories of both, so that I can differentiate between—”

“There’s only one body down there,” Zendar said.

Edrys blinked. “One body?” he asked. He hesitated for a moment. “I must admit, my lord, that while I am not an expert on water burials, I did not expect the Aonen practice to be this unorthodox. Where is the—?”

The [Grave Robber]’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Do you mean to say—?”

“Hold your tongue,” Zendar said sharply.

“You did not tell me—”

“Hold your tongue.”

The [Grave Robber] blanched. “This changes things, my lord.”

“It changes nothing.”

“I’m afraid it changes everything,” Edrys said. “My lord, you must understand, the echoes of the deceased are volatile at the best of times. Perhaps I was too reductive in what I said before. I have faith in my abilities to contain them, to interpret, under ordinary—”

“It can be done,” Zendar said. “I’ve read about it.”

“I’m sure you have, my lord. And I’m not denying that it can be done. All I’m saying is that I have never done it. Not quite. And why would I? Few would care enough to try. Before even attempting this, at the very least I would need to meet—”

“Everybody you need is present,” Zendar said.

“I’m afraid you don’t understand, my lord,” Edrys said. “I need—”

“I understand perfectly well,” Zendar said. “Everybody you need is present.”

The [Grave Robber]’s brow furrowed. He looked from Zendar, to Finn, and back. His lips pursed.

“What is the problem?” Finn asked.

Edrys opened his mouth, but Zendar was the first to speak. “There is no problem.”

Zendar’s eyes were locked on Edrys. Finn felt something emanating from his brother, a surge of heat. Zendar was miles away from his tether. Edrys was standing right beside his own, and yet he was no match. Edrys wilted. Finn fought back a shudder of his own, and saw his brother as if for the first time. It was extremely rare for him to don the true face of Lord Zendarus, First [Warrior] of the Aonens, Defender of the Bridge, the first to have made the Crossing unassisted—at age fifteen, no less—, and the first to beat back a horde of Ortomalle.

And his eyes spoke threats, in no ambiguous terms.

“My lord,” Edrys acquiesced with a bow. He paused for another moment, then turned to Finn. “You will need to come with me into the water, my lord Finric.”

Zendar and Finn spoke at the same time.

“Me?” Finn asked.

“No,” Zendar said. He seemed suddenly fearful, a pale shadow of what he had been a moment ago. “My brother is not going down there. That was not the agreement.”

“My lord—”

“You said you needed blood relatives nearby. You said one would do. You have two. You said nothing about getting into the water.”

“My lord, as I’ve stated, the circumstances changed when—”

“I’ll do it.”

Zendar spun towards Finn, eyes wide. “Finn,” he said.

Finn closed his eyes and exhaled. Zendar’s words echoed in his mind.

I need to speak to her. I may have found a way. You do trust me, don’t you, little brother?

More than anyone, Finn answered inwardly.

He opened his eyes. The center of the pool was still, and he tried not to imagine what was down there, waiting for him.

“Zen,” he said. “It’s okay, I’ll do it. I’ll get into the water.”

Finn turned back to his brother, and suddenly his blood froze. He recoiled. Zendar was staring at him with a sudden intensity he didn’t understand. It looked almost like—anger? But then he blinked, and it was gone.

I must’ve imagined it.

“No, Finn,” Zendar was saying. His voice was soft, his eyes kind. He hung his head for a moment, then he raised it high. “No. I will go down there.”

“My lords,” Edrys said, despairingly. “My lords, I’m afraid I must insist that—”

“Is it possible that it will work if I go?” Zendar asked.

“It would be much better if—”

“Is it possible?”

Edrys’s face twitched. He shut his eyes. “Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Yes, it is possible. If the… if Lord Finric stays near.”

“He will.”

Edrys grimaced, an attempt at a smile. He stared between the two brothers a moment longer before speaking. “Well, I suppose there’s no use standing here doing nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Alright, then. Let’s go for a swim.”