Gravemound by Kim Fielding (best books to read for self improvement TXT) 📗

I could amass. I never shared my food when others were hungry. Never clothed those who were cold. Whenever people have asked me for even the smallest thing, I’ve turned them away.”

That was consistent with Phineas’s experiences with the guy, not to mention the tales he’d heard from the villagers, who said that Thozzon had nothing but a stone for a heart and dust in his veins. But saying so wasn’t going to help. He tried a smile. “Well, now that you realize the error of your ways, you can reform.”

“It’s too late,” Thozzon said sadly, his head drooping. “The soul-reaper said so.”

“You could give me some equipment. That would be a good start.” It was worth a try, right?

Thozzon lifted his head, a spark of hope in his watery eyes. “That’s right. You want to ferment grain.”

“I can’t pay you now, but if I’m successful—”

“No! I will give you what you need. As a gift.”

Phineas blinked. “That’s very generous of you. Are you sure?”

“Yes! Absolutely! I will give you my very best equipment. And not only that. I’ll give you as much arrowgrass as you want from my highest quality stores. And my finest stoneware jugs. And anything else you need.” He held his hands wide, palms-up, indicating his entire home. “Anything you ask for.”

“Why would you do that? I’m a stranger.”

Thozzon lifted his chin and firmed his jaw. “Because I’ll ask you to do something for me—something nobody in the village will do.”

Unease slithered in Phineas’s belly. “Do what?”

“After I die, sit in the cemetery and watch over my grave for three nights. Keep the soul-reaper away. If you promise to do this, you can have whatever you want.”

Babysitting a corpse was not high on Phineas’s to-do list, but he really needed Thozzon’s help. Besides, the guy was genuinely upset. Phin didn’t mind giving him a little peace of mind. And although Phin had no powers of precognition, he assumed that Thozzon’s death would occur at some point in the distant future. He nodded. “Sure. I can do that.”

“You swear that you will?”

Phin hadn’t quite forgotten everything he’d learned as a lawyer. “I swear that I will do everything within my power to guard your grave for the three nights immediately following your demise. Furthermore, I will also take reasonable measures to prevent anything from, um, reaping your soul.” He doubted whether contract law had evolved very far here, but back home, this arrangement would have been binding. It had all the elements: mutual agreement, an offer, an acceptance, sufficient consideration paid for services, and mutual capacity to follow through.

Thozzon seemed both satisfied and relieved. “Thank you.” His calm demeanor had crept back. “Now come with me and show me what you need.”

Phin left Thozzon’s house and headed toward the village center with a barrow full of brewing supplies and a promise that Thozzon would send everything else to his hut the next morning. It was much more than he’d expected when he knocked on the door, yet many uncertainties remained. Would he be able to make decent ale out of the arrowgrass? Would anyone here want to drink it? And as a separate matter, would he have anything to fear when he finally had to sit in the graveyard? His chances of success at brewing were more likely than his hopeless attempts to repair the starship’s communication computer and call for rescue. He knew a lot more about ale than electronics.

Gurthcir was still sitting in the square when Phin returned. He now recognized her knitting as a baby sweater.

“Well, look at that!” she said as a dozen other people clustered around Phin and his barrow. “Did you knock him out cold and take what you needed?” She cackled at her own joke.

“Of course not, auntie. He gave me everything I need.”

“I would think he’s been possessed, but what demon would stoop to taking up residence in that sour old husk?” More laughter, this time joined by everyone else.

“He traded me for a favor. Um, what’s a soul-reaper?”

Her expression instantly turned solemn, and everyone else backed up with little hisses of fear. “Why do you ask?” Gurthcir said carefully.

“Thozzon said a soul-reaper visited and, uh, threatened him. He was really worked up about it. He says that after he dies, he wants me to watch his grave for three nights.” Now that he said it aloud, it sounded pretty insane. A little boy burst into tears and was comforted by his grandmother, who gave Phin a reproachful look before carrying the child away.

“Sit down,” Gurthcir commanded.

Phin sat on the bench near her but outside of easy knitting needle range.

“You don’t have them where you come from?” she asked. When Phin shook his head, she clucked her tongue. “Such a strange place it must be.”

“It’s really different from here.”

“Do you have wars?”

He winced. “Yeah, we do.” When he was at university, people from a neighboring solar system had tried to take over his planet, apparently because they’d managed to blow up their own. The battles had lasted only a few weeks but resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths—including his parents and younger sister.

“We’ve had many. The last was almost ten years ago, and we lost a lot of young people who went off to be soldiers. That’s why so many of our houses are empty.”

Including the one Phin had been given. He shivered as he thought about its previous occupant—speared or hacked or clubbed to death far from home. “I’m sorry.”

Gurthcir nodded. “I lost a husband in an older war and nephews in the last one.” She reached over to pat him, her calloused, wrinkled skin warm against his hand. “We honor them with our memories, Star-Demon, but we also move on.”

Phineas sniffled, but he didn’t want the original issue sidetracked with more attempts at matchmaking. “Soul-reapers?”

“They were human once, long ago. Something changed them. A curse, maybe, or a disease, or maybe just their own evil nature. Now they roam the land, looking for the