The Bone Charmer

by Breeana Shields

  Too soon, the vision fades and bittersweet pain blazes through me, burning away every emotion until there’s nothing left but rage. Audra has no right.

  I storm out of the room and slam the door behind me. The sound brings Willem running.

  “Did you get lost, Saskia? Everyone gets lost in our house.” He notices the bone in my arms, and his eyes go wide. “You have to put that back. Mama won’t like that you touched it.”

  I duck to avoid hitting my head on the crystal globes dangling from the ceiling. “I don’t care what your mother likes,” I snap.

  He sucks his lower lip into his mouth. I sigh and remind myself that he’s just a child. It’s not my place to tell him that his mother is a thief and maybe even a murderer, though I long to shout the words at someone—anyone—if it will quiet the thoughts inside my head. My mind is like a hive of bees—noise and chaos and worries so frantic, they blend together into a low buzz. But Willem is no more responsible for his mother’s actions than I am for mine.

  “Everything will be fine,” I tell him as we walk back to the front of the house. “Now, why don’t you go to your room for a bit?”

  Through the large window, I spot Audra walking across the lawn toward the door. My heart leaps into my throat. It’s too late to leave without her seeing me. I can either put the bone back and report her to the town council later—let them recover the bone and mete out an appropriate punishment—or I can confront her now. If this were any other bone, I would avoid an altercation with Audra and run toward safety like I always do. But it’s my father. I won’t leave any part of him here one moment longer than necessary.

  I imagine myself flying across the room when Audra opens the door, pinning her against the wall and pressing my father’s bone to her throat until she tells me what I want to know.

  But when I finally hear the key in the lock, something inside me goes very still. I sit down, my back as straight as the edge of a blade, and place my father’s humerus across my lap. Audra saunters into the room with several bags slung over both arms. She startles when she sees me. And then her gaze drifts to the bone.

  “What do you think you’re doing with that?” Her voice is shrill. The bags slide to the floor.

  “I think you’re the one who needs to answer that question.”

  Audra narrows her eyes. Her lips twist cruelly. “How dare you?”

  “This was stolen from the bone house a few weeks ago.” My voice is calm and even. Fury has gathered inside me, focusing into a sharp, icy point that I’m ready to use as a weapon. “The town council has been searching for the culprit, so they can mete out the appropriate punishment.”

  Audra blanches. My words have found their mark.

  “You know what they do to bone thieves, don’t you?” I ask.

  She fingers the jewels at her neck. “I didn’t steal that bone, Saskia. I—”

  “They hang them.”

  Audra presses a palm to her chest as if she’s trying to hold her pounding heart in place. “I didn’t steal anything. I bought that bone at a fair price—more than fair—and it belongs to me.”

  And just like that, my anger explodes inside me, breaks into a thousand jagged pieces that feel as if they’ve sliced into every part of me. “It belonged to my father!”

  Audra pulls in a quick breath. “No, that can’t be right….”

  I stand up so fast that my chair topples over. “Where are the rest of them?”

  She backs away from me until her back is pressed against the window. “The rest of them? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “All of my father’s remains were taken from the bone house. I want them back.”

  Something in Audra’s demeanor changes. She straightens. Her expression grows distant. “Well, I only bought the one bone.”

  “Where did you buy it?”

  She gives me a tight smile. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business.”

  “None of my business? It’s my father’s bone. It belongs to my family.”

  “How was I to know it was stolen? If a crime was committed, it wasn’t by me.”

  Suddenly the pieces fall into place. If only this one bone had been stolen, who else could the town council blame? But the other missing bones give her cover. She must be telling the truth. She doesn’t know where the rest of them are.

  A weight settles in my stomach. I think of my father, who loved games. He always said the secret to winning was understanding not only your own greatest strength, but also your opponent’s greatest weakness—and then finding a way to pit the two against each other.

  My mind scrambles for a way to shift the power balance again. To loosen Audra’s tongue. “I guess my mother was right. You won’t be needing a tutor for Willem anymore.”

  Audra’s expression freezes. She blinks.

  “What do you mean? Of course he needs a tutor.”

  I gather my bag and head toward the door. “That’s not what the bones say.”

  Audra grabs my arm and spins me around. Her eyes are wild. “Your mother did a reading?”

  I throw her own words back in her face. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business.”

  “Saskia, please.” Audra’s voice is all softness and honey now. “Did your mother really do a reading?”

  I hesitate and pretend to consider her request. I think of Gran’s warnings about liars, and then close my heart against her memory. If this is what I have to do to find my father’s bones, then I will. Even if it costs me my honor.

  “How do you think I knew where to find the bone?”

  I should be ashamed at the stab of satisfaction I feel when fear creeps over her expression, but I’m not. “What else did the reading show?”

  “I shouldn’t say,” I tell her, which I know will only make her more desperate.

  Her gaze drops to the bone in my hand. “I didn’t know it was your father’s. I’m sorry.”

  She’s not. It’s a manipulation to get what she wants, but Audra isn’t the only one who knows the rules of that game.

  “My mother saw two paths. One where you help me find my father’s bones. The other where you don’t and something terrible happens to you.” I pause. “And Willem.”

  Audra’s face goes slack. “What is it? What happens?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. She thought it would distress me too much if she gave me the details. So, Audra, which path are you going to choose?”

  “But how can I help you? I don’t know who stole the bones or where they are now.”

  She’s avoiding the question I’ve already posed. I ask again: “Where did you buy this? Who sold it to you?”

  Audra swallows. A sheen of sweat glistens on her upper lip. “I can’t tell you that.”

  I give her what I hope is a sad smile. “No, my mother didn’t think you would. Will you tell Willem that I’ll miss him?”

  I don’t wait for her answer before I leave. I’m halfway out the door when her footsteps rumble behind me.

  “Wait.” The word scratches from her throat. Feral. As if it cost her something to say it.

  I turn. Raise my eyebrows.

  “There’s a merchant ship that sometimes docks nearby. They sell wares that are … unconventional.”

  “By unconventional, you mean stolen?”

  She dries her palms on the hem of her shirt. “No … I mean”—she motions toward my father’s humerus—“obviously some of them are. But others are … frowned upon.”

  “How do I find the ship?”

  “It docks somewhere new each night. You can’t find it without a contact.”

  “You can be my contact,” I tell her.

  She shakes her head. “No. That’s not possible.”

  “Do you prefer the alternative path?”

  We’re interrupted by the thundering of small footsteps on the stairs. “Hi, Mama,” Willem says. And then to me: “What’s an alternative path?”

  Audra’s gaze skips between me and her son. Her fi
ngers twist together.

  “Your mother is taking me on an adventure this evening,” I say brightly. “I’ll tell you all about it the next time I come to tutor you.”

  Audra’s shoulders slump. As with everything else in her life, her freedom has been snatched away by her fear of the bones. She knows she has no choice. “We’ll leave at nightfall,” she says.

  For the first time since this conversation began, I take a deep breath. I’m coming for you, Papa.

  Saskia

  The Bone Charmer

  The next time I meet with Latham, he has an extra bone on the table.

  “Since you couldn’t see anything during our last attempt, I thought we’d try this.” His hands are splayed in front of him, and I notice a faded red tattoo around his wrist, as if he loved someone once a very long time ago.

  He tracks my gaze to the tattoo, and a flicker of pain crosses his expression. “She was …” He gives his head a little shake. “Never mind, it’s ancient history.”

  “Did she die?” As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I wish I could take it back. It’s far too personal, and I feel heat rushing to my cheeks.

  “No, nothing like that. I loved her, but the rules of the Grand Council didn’t allow us to be together. Like I said, it was a long time ago. Now, should we get started?”

  But the comment nags at me. What rules would prevent a couple in love from being together? Unless the girl he loved was matched to someone else—and she wanted to accept the pairing? Maybe he was in love with her, but she didn’t return his affections?

  Latham clears his throat and my attention snaps back to him.

  I examine the bone between us. It’s larger than any we’ve ever worked with before—a femur, probably from an adult man. “What does it do?” I ask. “Is it another practice bone?”

  “Of a sort,” he says. “It’s called an intensifier. All of the practice bones we’ve been using are intensifiers, but this one is particularly potent. Using it during a reading should increase both your power and your range.”

  “My range?”

  “Every Bone Charmer has a limit to how far they can see. One person with Third Sight might be able to see only a year or two into the future, while someone more gifted might be able to see several decades. The same goes for a Bone Charmer with First Sight—how far they can reach into the past is determined by their range. For you, the intensifier should stretch your ability to see a bit in both directions. If you usually have a range of only a few hours, it will let you see forward or backward a few days, or even a few months.”

  Another thing Master Kyra hasn’t bothered to mention. A well of resentment bubbles up inside me. I can’t help but wonder if she sees so little promise in me that she doesn’t think I’m worth her best efforts.

  I think about confessing that I actually did see a brief vision during my last attempt, but I don’t want to risk Latham putting the intensifier away. I’m curious what will happen if I use it. My training with Master Kyra has been painfully boring over the past few weeks and I’m craving a challenge.

  “Do I need to do anything special to use it?”

  “No,” he says. “It works just like any other bloodless reading. You’ll need to be in contact with the training bones and the intensifier the entire time.”

  I take a deep breath. I’m determined to see Ami. I’ve been thinking about her all afternoon, letting memories of her tumble around my mind—her raven hair, her easy smile, the way she bounces on her toes when she’s excited. I hope it will help me see her more clearly during the reading.

  “Ready?” Latham asks.

  I nod and I lay my palms across the bones, making sure I’m touching all of them. I close my eyes. The pull in my stomach is almost instant.

  Ami. Long hair falling across her face. Green apron coated in a fine layer of white dust hanging around her neck. She leans against the counter at the bone house, her elbows propping up her chin. Her cheeks are flushed pink. She’s smiling.

  “You’ve been here every day this week,” she says. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to think you’re just showing up to flirt with me.”

  “But what if I am just showing up to flirt with you?”

  Declan. The sight startles me so much, I’m yanked out of the vision. I’m suddenly aware of the feel of the bones beneath my palms. Of the breeze blowing in from the open window. Of the swell of homesickness that pushes against my rib cage. Ami hasn’t mentioned in any of her letters that Declan has been hanging around the bone house. Maybe she’s worried about how I’d feel? Declan and I were seeing each other before the kenning. But I haven’t thought about him since I arrived at Ivory Hall. Not once.

  “You’ve lost your focus.” Latham’s voice pulls me back to the task at hand. He taps the bone clasp at his collar. “Don’t allow your attention to wander.”

  “Sorry,” I say. I clear my mind and concentrate on finding Ami again. But before I can conjure up a clear picture of her, I’m swept away in another vision.

  A large room with long benches against each wall. Dirt floors covered in a layer of straw. Two boys facing off against each other in the center of a ring. One is tall and muscular with short-cropped hair and a fierce expression. A ragged tattoo that looks like the edge of a saw loops around his neck.

  The other boy is Bram.

  The vision slips and tilts as if my mind has stepped on a sheet of solid ice. I start to pull away. Don’t fight it. Latham’s words reach me like they’re coming from a distant mountaintop—I can barely hear them, even as they echo with authority.

  The boys circle each other as their mentors yell instructions from the sidelines. Look for an opening. His weakness is your opportunity. Strike.

  Bram reaches into a small velvet pouch filled with tiny bones that hangs from a belt at his waist. He pinches a bone between his thumb and forefinger and bends it slightly. His opponent grimaces and cradles his elbow.

  Bram’s expression is sharp. He watches the other boy carefully, not pulling his gaze away for a moment, even as his fingers rummage through the pouch. He finds the bone he’s looking for and squeezes it in the center.

  His opponent snarls, reaches into the pouch at his waist, and snaps one of the bones in half.

  Bram groans and crumples to the ground. His face has gone pale and his breaths are coming in jagged gasps. His left leg is bent at an unnatural angle.

  “Unacceptable!” shouts Bram’s mentor, storming into the ring. He turns to his colleague. “Darius, your apprentice is out of control.”

  Master Darius turns to the boy with the sawlike tattoo. “Ease off, understand? You can do plenty of damage without actually breaking the bone.”

  The boy shrugs. “But it’s so much more fun to break things.” His expression makes me want to slap him. My hands curl around the bones beneath my palms.

  “Have a seat,” Master Darius says. “You’re sidelined for now.” Then he turns to Bram’s mentor. “You’re being a little soft. We’re teaching them to be warriors. Not diplomats.”

  “Yes, and your apprentice needs to learn that there’s a difference between being a warrior and a brute. He’d do well to practice a little self-control.”

  I listen to the two men argue with a growing dismay. No one is helping Bram. His lips are pressed together as if he’s trying to keep himself from crying out. His fingers curl around handfuls of straw. I try to surge forward, and then remember I’m not really here. That I can’t call for a Healer, that I can’t go to Bram and promise that he’ll be all right.

  The vision goes black around the edges as if I’m moving backward through a tunnel. The last thing I see is Bram’s face go slack, his eyes slide closed.

  I gasp as Latham’s office materializes around me. Stark white walls, a gentle breeze rippling over my skin.

  “It seems you’ve had success,” Latham says.

  I nod. But the sensation inside me is hollow—it feels far more like defeat than victory.

  “Did you
see something unpleasant?” Latham asks. “Tell me.”

  “Yes,” I say. “One of the other apprentices. A boy from Midwood. He was hurt in his training.”

  It isn’t until Latham’s face falls that I recognize how hopeful he’d looked before. “Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “No, of course not. I just assumed you’d see your mother, that’s all.”

  My gaze flits to his wrist and the pale tattoo there.

  “You remind me of her,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.

  “Only in appearance,” I tell him. “We’ve never been very much alike otherwise.”

  “I suspect you and your mother have more in common than you might think.”

  But he’s wrong. He doesn’t know me well enough to compare me to my mother. And I might tell him so if not for the pit in my stomach, the gnawing need to find out what happened after Bram closed his eyes.

  Lessons have been over for an hour, but the training corridors are still bustling with noise—apprentices standing in clusters, bragging about the successes of the day, Masters grumbling to one another about the failures, the rustle of dozens of cloaks as people shift and move.

  But Bram isn’t here.

  I wander through the men’s dormitory, the training wing, the dining hall, and even the infirmary, but I can’t find him.

  Panic flutters in my chest like a bird held too tightly.

  I tell myself that my worry has nothing to do with Bram specifically, that I would be wandering these halls searching for any apprentice I saw injured. I don’t even need to speak to Bram. I’ll feel better if I can just get a glimpse of him, enough to know he’s breathing, that his wounds have been healed.

  The temptation to go back to Latham dances at the edge of my mind like a bit of meat held out to a puppy. I could ask to do another reading. I could actually try to see Bram this time instead of resisting. But the thought of opening up to Latham like that, trusting him with my worries—I can’t do it. It’s one thing to accept his help with training, but sharing something personal feels like crossing a line.

  I think of the training bones in my room. I haven’t attempted to use them on anyone but myself. Without another source of blood, it’s been my only option, so I’ve focused more time on the stolen spell book. Now that I know about bloodless readings and have some experience with focusing the magic, the bones could prove far more useful.