Gravemound by Kim Fielding (snow like ashes TXT) 📕

cemetery hadn’t changed since the night before. Phineas placed some new stones on Somboon’s grave and then on Thozzon’s, but after that he couldn’t settle down. Instead he strolled the grounds restlessly, careful to avoid tripping on the uneven ground. He was slightly worried that the reaper would show, but even more worried that Kendo wouldn’t. No promises, they’d agreed the night before, and that remained true. But Phineas felt his absence as an ache.

Long after sunset, Phin continued to be the only living person in the cemetery, his basket of food absurdly overpacked.

And then he heard something deep in the darkness. A furtive swish that wasn’t at all like Kendo’s now familiar boot-heeled limp. Could be an animal, he told himself. But he knew better. This sound carried a sense of intention that animals rarely possessed.

Phineas took a few deep breaths and stood atop Thozzon’s gravemound, careful not to disturb the stones. He held the starstick in one hand even though the moon was bright. Something was coming closer, its humanoid shape forming from the shadows.

“Hello.”

Phineas leapt straight into the air when the voice came from behind him. When he landed, he turned to gesture urgently at Kendo. “Go away! It’s here.”

Kendo didn’t go away, of course. He came closer instead, until he stood beside Thozzon’s gravemound.

With a nervous glance at the reaper tiptoeing slowly toward them, Phin leaned over to give Kendo a light shove. “Really. Scram.”

“I’m not afraid. My fear died in the war.” Kendo unsheathed his sword and held it aloft.

“This is my responsibility, not yours.”

“Keeping watch is a soldier’s business.” He flashed a smile. “Whatever happens tonight, good or bad, let us share that fate.”

Did this have something to do with Gurthcir’s vision? Phineas couldn’t tell. But he did know that it felt good to have Kendo at his side. “All right.” And then, when the reaper moved closer, he raised his voice. “Go away!”

It didn’t. It oozed closer, near enough for Phin to make out the details. When he did, he couldn’t help a gasp, because the reaper bore an eerie similarity to Kendo: gaunt, wild-haired, dressed in rags. Its face was unscarred, however, the skin stone-gray and the eyes glowing like hot coals. It snarled, showing broken teeth. “Begone!” Its voice was like unoiled pieces of metal scraping together. “That man’s soul belongs to me. Begone or I’ll wring your necks.” It held up clawlike hands.

Nobody had told Phineas whether reapers could, in fact, wring necks. It seemed possible, with the reaper tangible enough that its grave-stink carried on the breeze. But Phin held his ground. “You can’t have him.”

“I will. And I’ll have yours too when you die, and yours, soldier.”

A few weeks earlier, this threat would have carried weight with Phin. But he realized now that he was part of a community and that his new neighbors would hold vigil over his grave. And as for Kendo, well, Phin wouldn’t let him be abandoned either. “No. We’ll never be yours.”

Kendo gave him another smile, this one fierce and beautiful, before facing the reaper and pointing his sword. “You’re not my captain, and I needn’t obey you. Go.”

The reaper didn’t appear to be afraid of the weapon. It seemed more annoyed than anything, Phineas thought. It stood for a few moments, swaying. The light in its eyes dimmed and, after a pause, flared again. “Neither of you loved this man. Nobody did. Why should you care if I eat his soul?”

“Because I promised to guard him,” Phin answered. “He and I had a valid contract.”

The reaper’s wide grin was a terrible sight. “Ah, I see. He paid you. Very well, I can pay you more. I know where there’s a hidden store of coins. I ate the owner’s soul long, long ago, and nobody but me knows of the treasure. I will bring you a bag of coins. Enough to pay for a month’s worth of meals, demon. Enough for a month’s worth of shelter for you, soldier.”

Before Phineas could refuse, Kendo spoke up. “A man’s soul is worth more than that—even Thozzon’s. Give us enough coins to fill my boot and then we’ll step away.”

The reaper laughed—a nasty, slithery sound—and disappeared.

Phineas whirled angrily toward Kendo, who was sheathing his sword. “Look, I know you could probably use some money, but I’m not selling out!”

“Are you sure? You could be wealthy.”

“Like Thozzon was? No way. I’d rather scrape by in my little hut.” He gave a heavy huff. “It’s a nice little house.”

Kendo gave him that smile again, the warm one that made Phin’s heart beat more quickly. “You are a good man. If you don’t want wealth, tell me what you yearn for.”

Phineas didn’t even have to think of it. “Home. Friends. A chance to contribute. Love.”

“I had those things once, a long time ago.” Kendo sat down on the gravemound and began unlacing his boots. He kept his eyes on that task as he spoke. “I had a cozy little house near the edge of the forest, and I shared it with my lover. We helped in the fields and kept a nice garden. We had plenty of food and everything else we needed. But then the war came and we marched off to be soldiers. He died. I… became lost.” He’d removed his tall boots by then and sat, hunched and still.

“This is your village,” Phin said. How had it taken him so long to see that?

“It was… once.”

“And I’m living in your house.”

Kendo shook his head slowly. “It’s yours.” Then he leapt to his feet. “Will you trust me, Phineas? Please? You are the first person in a decade to look at me, to… to know me. So will you trust me?”

Throat too tight to speak, Phineas nodded.

This time, Kendo’s smile was full of mischief, making him look years younger. “Look at this.” He held up one of his boots and angled it just right. Even in the dim light, Phin could see that much of the sole