"It is not possible that they live," Simeon said. "There is a malfunction of the bells. Perhaps earth tremors."
"It is . . . more than the bells," the monk said carefully.
His gaze flitted toward the camp. Beside Ashyn, Tova growled. When she strained to listen, she could catch the sound . . .
Scratching. She heard a dry, rustling scratching. Then a thump.
She glanced at Ronan and saw his face pale. Simeon continued to insist that what the monk feared was, quite simply, impossible. The dead did not wake. At least, not the long dead.
Simeon knew nothing of what had transpired in Edgewood. To those in the convoy, it had been explained that Ashyn's village had been beset by a fatal outbreak of illness, which may have spread to Fairview and may not have been a natural occurrence.
Ashyn turned to Simeon. "I must investigate these claims. However, I fear they arise from duplicity. Not the monks, of course. But someone may be tricking them for nefarious purposes, and this ought to be brought to the attention of Prince Tyrus. I need you to go to him now and tell him what has happened."
"You wish me to wake the prince?"
"You have nothing to fear from Tyrus. Tell him and my sister what has happened and have them come back here with you."
"Should I not ask a warrior to rouse him?"
"Are you questioning the Seeker?" Ronan snapped.
"The young man is correct," the monk said. "To question her will is to question the will of the spirits themselves. It is akin to blasphemy."
"Please," Ashyn said.
That plea worked. He left after she enjoined him to speak to no one else of this. "There are many superstitious folks in the empire," she said. "I'd not wish to start outrageous rumors of resurrected mummies."
Once he was gone, they continued down the hill. Soon it was impossible not to hear the sounds from the boxes--the scrapes and scratches and thuds and bumps.
"I fear their bodies have been possessed by evil spirits," the monk said. "Though I've not heard of such a thing outside of nannies' tales."
As they reached camp, the men at the fire rose, and their monk hurried forward to explain, leaving Ashyn and Ronan staring at the boxes.
"They're moving," Ashyn whispered.
"Hmm." Ronan moved closer and lowered his lips to her ear. "Shadow stalkers?"
"I . . . I don't think so. Shadow stalkers take the form of that dark smoke to enter bodies, and they can leave it the same way. Why stay in those boxes?"
"Hoping someone will open them?"
"But no one has."
"And we'll not do it either," he said.
"I believe we must look--"
"I said we'll not."
She glanced at him. "Were you not just chastising Simeon for questioning my decisions?"
"Simeon? Is that his name?" A derisive snort. Then his dark eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you ever explained why you were with him in the first place."
"No, I did not." She stepped toward the monks as they approached. The one who'd brought them performed introductions. His own name was Ivo. The other two monks barely stayed long enough for Ashyn to greet them properly before they slipped back to the fire. They'd spoken not a word. Silence was part of their penance, Ivo explained, as he led Ashyn to the boxes.
"Can they be opened?" she asked.
Ivo stared as if she'd asked him to crawl into one. "I do not believe that's necessary, my lady. If you were simply to placate the spirits, they would leave the bodies, without any need to look within."