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.

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“Aron,” I manage to choke out, wrapping my hand in his cloak. “I would really like to leave now.”

Instead of making a dick comment, he nods tightly and sheaths his blade. Wait, that wasn’t what I suggested. I want him to protect me, damn it. He’s the one that knows how to sword fight and I don’t even have a thing to use as a weapon—

In the next moment, he grabs me by the hips and flings me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes. I don’t protest. I grab double handfuls of his cloak to anchor myself and choke out a “Run!” as Aron sprints down the path, my stomach slamming into his shoulder with every movement.

All that matters is escaping this place, which seems to go from bad to worse with every moment that passes. Aron sprints out a large double gate, and I hear a man bark out a warning. Aron doesn’t even stop, and when the man races alongside him, he casually reaches out, crushes the man’s windpipe, and then keeps sprinting.

Well, then.

Aron races out of the graveyard and into the dark hills. The lights of Katharn dim with every bobbing step and the trees grow thicker on the edges of the road, the hills seeming taller and more shadowy. My stomach begins to protest, bile creeping up my throat, but I fight it back. I can’t be sick right now. I’m still thinking about those awful, scratching sounds and the groaning. The mass grave that was open to the world. I can’t stop shuddering, my skin crawling at the thought of the dead rising.

Eventually, Aron slows, and he’s barely breathing hard. He pulls me off his shoulder and sets me on the ground. “I think we’re a safe distance away unless there’s a few dead along the side of the road.” He glances around, his features creased with annoyance, as if it’s irritating him to run away from the undead.

Me, I can’t stop shaking. I sink to the ground and press a hand to my forehead. “I need a moment.”

“Why? You weren’t running.” But he parks himself on the ground next to me and puts a hand on my nape. “Sick?” At my nod, he rubs the back of my neck, trying to comfort me.

Even though he can be frustrating, I know he's trying, in his way. Plus, his hand feels really good. I close my eyes, willing my stomach to settle, and concentrate on his nearness. "Thanks, Aron."

"That was not something I expected to encounter this night," he admits, and I guess that's the closest he'll come to saying “whoops, I made a mistake.”

"Is it normal for the dead to rise? Here in this world?" I shudder, rubbing my arms. I want to hug my knees close to my chest, but my lower body is filthy.

"No. It is not a good thing. Not a good thing at all."

"King of the understatement," I mutter to myself. "No shit it's not good."

"It means that all of the gods have been exiled," Aron says thoughtfully. "Not just some, but all. I wonder at the reasoning behind this."

“You were all very naughty children?”

He grunts. “It seems foolish to make humankind suffer because we are disobedient.”

I stare at him in shock. That is not a very Aron thing to say. “Maybe he was sick of your shit and cleaned house. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one cares what mortals think. I mean, hello, you’re not exactly the most understanding guy yourself.”

“Mm.” He frowns, thinking. “I do not think we should go to the coast after all. I think we should visit the Spidae.”

"The Spidae?" I furrow my brow, trying to think where I've heard that before. "Wait, aren't those the fates?"

"The three lords of fate, yes." He nods, looking a little worried, even as his hand remains possessively on my neck. "We will go to their tower and look for answers there."

"Wait, they live here?" I look at him in surprise. "Like…there?" I gesture at Katharn, horrified. If I were a god, I wouldn't want to go anywhere near a place like that.

"No, they have a tower at the far ends of the land, past the Ashen Sea." He gets to his feet, brushing off his clothes. "That is where we are going."

"Um?" I look up at him in surprise. "So we're not going after your Aspects? We're not going to take out the other 'yous'? I thought that was the whole plan."

"Plans change." He offers me a hand, and I take it, letting him help me to my feet. "If all of the gods have been exiled, this world is not safe to explore at a leisurely pace. Best we visit the Spidae and get answers quickly. They will help me.”

I swallow hard. "So…we're going to go visit the fates. Do you think they could send me home? I thought we were going to get you back to the heavens so I could go back to my world and everyone could be happy."

Aron gives me a sharp look. "You think about yourself?"

"Well, yeah. I don't belong here, so my goal is to get home. I thought that was your goal, too."

He scoffs. “I should think it is far more important for me to get home than for you. I am the one that is a god. Let us focus on me first.”

I just roll my eyes.

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We start moving again, and head through the dark hills, avoiding the thickest parts of the trees and underbrush. There's a wide path along this way, but we avoid it for obvious reasons, opting instead to go cross-country. I climb rocky slopes and avoid bushes the best I can in the darkness, but I eventually start to stumble and I'm relieved when we run across a small, bubbling stream that cuts through the woods and Aron suggests we stop here.

I move to the bank and wash my face, doing my best not to think about e. coli or giardia or any other parasite that might be in a wilderness stream. It can't be worse than what I was wading through back in the sewers, after all. Once my face is clean, I realize just how nasty the rest of my clothing is, and immediately start stripping layers off so I can wash them. I wade into the water to my hips and begin to scrub. My cloak, my leggings, and the hem of my long tunic are all encrusted in filth, and they're going to be clean before I put them on again, damn it.

"Once you're done with those, wash mine," Aron says.

I look up and he's stripping his clothes off, getting absolutely naked in front of me. He's all pale glory and scars, and I swallow hard, averting my eyes. I am not going to creep on him. Not at all. I'm certainly not going to think about that evening at Tadekha's Citadel when I was all over him and his hands were between my thighs. No siree. "How about you get in here and wash them yourself?"