He nods politely to the couple as he maneuvers around them. They laugh as he exchanges some pleasantry I can’t hear. And then he comes toward us, smiling in a way that is entirely unfamiliar. It makes me feel unsettled and off-balance.
“Hello there. It’s Saskia, right?”
I don’t say anything. I spot the gold knot on the shoulder of his cloak that designates him as a member of the Grand Council. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth.
“I’m Master Latham,” he says, holding out his hand. “We met briefly when I lectured at Ivory Hall earlier this year.” I wonder if the other paths left any imprint on him. If he has vague recollections of me he can’t quite place.
I search my memory, but I can’t find this version of him there. Maybe all the other iterations are too powerful to be overwritten. My arm lifts without my permission, as if good manners are more instinctual than common sense. His hand folds around mine and I resist the urge to yank it away.
I’ve tried so hard not to think about Latham over these past few weeks. I’ve tried to stem the tide of hatred that spills over my heart like poison. I’ve thrown myself into doing well on our last bone game, tried to distract myself with perfecting my charming skills. But in quiet moments—when I have too much time to think—my heart still feels dark with hate. I wanted this man dead, and yet he stands before me with so much of what he wanted. A seat on the Grand Council. The power he always craved. He radiates contentment.
And a storm rages in my chest. Bram’s palm rests on the small of my back. He doesn’t say anything, but the reminder that he’s there—that if I bolt, he’s ready to go with me—is a comfort.
“I was so sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. She was a good friend.”
A good friend. To Latham. I swallow.
My mother didn’t come back to me when I remade the past. Neither did Gran. I can only assume it’s because their bones were used in the magic that changed everything, which made them lost forever. I know from Ami’s letters that everyone in Midwood remembers Gran dying of old age, and my mother dying of illness.
“Thank you,” I manage.
And then my gaze falls to his wrist. It’s bare. A spark of panic zips up my spine. What if I erased Avalina when I remade the past?
“What is it?” Latham asks. “Are you all right?”
I take an unsteady breath. “I just—I thought my mother once mentioned you being matched. But I must be thinking of someone else.”
His expression grows wistful. “Avalina.” He says her name tenderly. “You’re not mistaken. She trained at Ivory Hall with me and your mother, and we were matched back then. But I had all sorts of ambitious plans, and Avalina wanted a quiet life. We decided we were happier apart.” He leans a little closer, as if sharing a secret. “I adored her, but she’s better off. I’m not the easiest man to live with.”
Relief washes over me. Avalina is safe. Her parents are safe. Latham still had to choose between love and a path toward power—he wasn’t emotionally healthy enough to have both—but at least in this life he didn’t leave a trail of destruction in his wake.
He stares off in the distance for a beat as if lost in a memory. And then he sighs deeply and seems to come back to himself.
“If you need anything—anything at all—please don’t hesitate to ask. Your mother was extraordinary. Everyone who knew Della cared deeply for her.”
I’ve heard Latham lie many times. In many realities. I’ve experienced some of his lies again and again as I explored the path on Gran’s healed bone. I know the exact timbre of his voice when he’s being deceitful, the precise look on his face. And that’s how I’m sure he’s telling the truth. He’s sincere in his admiration for my mother. His sadness is real.
A sudden realization pierces my heart—a pinprick that lets enough light in to chase away the darkness. I did succeed in killing Latham. The man who murdered my mother was unmade. Swept from existence. And I didn’t let a quest for vengeance destroy my life.
I didn’t get revenge, but I got something better.
I became the woman my mother raised me to be.
Midwood is in full bloom.
Cherry blossoms dust the cobbles in the town square like sugar on a pastry. The leaves in the Forest of the Dead are thick and green again after a long winter.
I stand at our family tree and marvel at how much has changed.
At how much hasn’t.
I trace my mother’s name—carved in Oskar’s hand now instead of Bram’s. Changing the past didn’t bring her back from the dead, but it did return her bones to me. I found them safe and sound at the bone house in Midwood. And Gran’s too. If I ever have a child, their kenning will be rich with the wisdom of the women who came before.
I sit at the base of the tree and rest my back against the trunk. Tip my head toward the sky. Run my fingers through the blades of cool grass.
“I miss you,” I say aloud.
Ever since Master Kyra assigned me to do a reading of my own past, I can’t help but wonder if my mother saw me in the future more than once. If, perhaps, she saw me over and over again. The possibility—however remote—has opened a well-spring of hope inside me that makes me feel as if she’s been returned to me in some small way. As if we’ve been returned to each other.
And so, I talk.
I tell her everything. How I’ve mastered all three Sights. How our team won the last bone game, so we all chose assignments in towns close to one another.
How she was right about Bram all along.
“He’s perfect for me, Mama. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
“I can’t either,” Bram says, cresting the hill and sinking into the grass beside me. “How could you be so clueless?”
“It’s impolite to eavesdrop.” My voice is stern, though I have a hard time keeping a straight face when he’s smiling at me like he can’t decide whether to tease me or kiss me.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping. I made as much noise as possible on my approach.”
“Oh, was that you clomping through the forest? I thought it was a moose.”
He laughs. “So you’d share your secrets with a moose but not with me?”
“Only a moose I trust implicitly.” I brush a lock of hair from his forehead. “And I don’t have any secrets from you.”
He leans back on his elbows. “None?”
“Do you have secrets from me?”
“No.” He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Well, maybe one.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“We’re matched on this path,” he says. “It’s almost time to declare if we accept or not.”
“And your secret is that you plan to break my heart?”
“Of course not. But sometimes I worry …” He plucks a blade of grass and spins it between his fingers. “Would you still have chosen me if we weren’t fated to be together?” The vulnerability in his voice tugs at my heart.
I thread my fingers through his. “Do you know why they call it the joining ceremony?”
“Well, I always assumed it was because two lives were being joined together. But I’m guessing this is either a trick question or you’re trying to boost my confidence with the easiest exam ever.”
“My mother once told me the ceremony is the moment fate and freedom join hands. Being matched is about discovering the person who’s right for you. The joining ceremony is when you choose to love them.”
I lean over him, my hair cascading around his face like a curtain that cocoons us in our own private world. “I choose to love you, Bram Wilberg. Today and always. In this reality and every other.”
“Can we just stay on this path from now on?” he asks, his fingers tracing my jawline. “I’ve grown quite attached to it.”
“I’d love nothing more.”
His lips meet mine and the whole world falls away.
I feel at once like I’m drowning, and like I’m breathing for the first time.
Like fate and freedom
just joined hands.
Acknowledgments
This book has been so much fun to write, and I have so many people to thank for helping bring it into the world.
First, to my amazingly talented editor, Ashley Hearn: Thank you for pushing me to be better, dig deeper, and do more. This book is so much stronger with you than it ever would have been otherwise.
I’m so grateful to Kathleen Rushall, who is supportive, wise, and kind—everything an agent should be. Thank you for everything!
My sincere appreciation to the entire team at Page Street: Will Kiester, Lizzy Mason, Lauren Cepero, Lauren Wohl, Tamara Grasty, Trisha Tobias, Chelsea Hensley, Meg Palmer, Hayley Gundlach, Marissa Giambelluca, Kylie Alexander, Mina Price, and the fabulous sales team at Macmillan. And special thanks to Kaitlin Severini for copyediting.
To my mom, Sharon Berrett: Thank you for foisting my books on coworkers, strangers, and airline pilots. You’re the best!
And to the many other family members who have gone above and beyond to come to events, rally friends, and generally be supportive: Edna Berrett, Dalena Berrett, Davonna Wachtler, Randy Wachtler, Tebin Berrett, Ted Berrett, Melissa Berrett, Don Shields, Ginny Shields, Christy Shields, Steve Shields, Jill Shields, Britnee Landerman, David Landerman, Cameron Berrett, Nicole Berrett, and Derek Berrett.
I’m so blessed to have writer friends on this journey who get both the ups and the downs: Katie Nelson, Kate Watson, Emily R. King, Rosalyn Eves, and Tricia Levenseller. Thanks for always being there!
To my nieces and nephews: Keaton, Kaiser, Danica, Jaden, Kennedy, London, Maverick, Cassidy, Paul, Tom, and Jimmy. Look, kiddos! Your name is in a book!
To my children, Ben, Jacob, and Isabella, who continue to fill my life with more happiness than I ever thought possible. I love you guys!
And always and forever to Justin. What would I do without you?
About the Author
Breeana Shields is an author of fantasy novels for teens, including The Bone Charmer, Poison’s Kiss, and Poison’s Cage. She graduated from Brigham Young University with a BA in English. When she’s not writing, Breeana loves reading, traveling, and playing board games with her extremely competitive family. She lives in the Washington, D.C., area with her husband, her three children, and two adorable, but spoiled dogs. Follow her on Twitter @BreeanaShields, or find her on her website at breeanashields.com.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Newsletter Sign-up
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 Breeana Shields
First published in 2020 by
Page Street Publishing Co.
27 Congress Street, Suite 105
Salem, MA 01970
www.pagestreetpublishing.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
Distributed by Macmillan, sales in Canada by The Canadian Manda Group.
eISBN 978-1-62414-930-6
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension. 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019948962
Cover and book design by Kylie Alexander for Page Street Publishing Co.
Cover illustration by Mina Price
The Bone Thief Page 29
