Trinity of Bones

by Caitlin Seal

  Naya clutched her mother’s necklace. She’d known Delence had a reputation for cold calculation. But using his son as a distraction to further his own goals seemed especially cruel. She’d heard the ache in Francisco’s voice when he’d said he could never hold a political office now that he was undead. From the way he talked, it was obvious he’d been studying to follow in his father’s footsteps. Instead of fighting for the changes that would let him chase that dream, his father had chosen this. No wonder Francisco was bitter.

  Before anyone could say more, the carriage jerked to an abrupt halt.

  “What was that?” Lucia asked, one hand moving to cradle her plaster-wrapped arm.

  Naya glanced out the window. Cold fear slithered through her. A crowd had gathered around the carriages. She’d been so focused on Francisco that she hadn’t noticed the sharp-smoky taste of their aether.

  “Go home!” someone shouted.

  “Monsters!”

  Francisco’s brows drew together as he peeked out the window. “Where are the soldiers?” he asked.

  Something shattered against the side of their carriage, and one of the horses shrieked. Francisco jerked away from the window, his eyes wide. The attack seemed to rally the crowd. Men and women surged toward the carriages, their faces twisted with a need for violence.

  Naya flinched as bodies slammed against the side of their carriage, making it rock wildly.

  The carriage wheels groaned. Naya forced her fear aside.

  “Come on!” she shouted, grabbing Lucia’s good arm. But before she could open the far door, the crowd shoved again. The carriage tipped, then crashed sideways onto the pavement. The world became a chaos of flailing limbs and splintering wood. The window shattered and Lucia screamed. Naya landed with her back pressed flat against one wall and her head twisted at an awkward angle against the roof.

  Lucia was lying in a heap next to her, curled around her broken arm. Blood trickled from a cut on Francisco’s forehead, and bits of broken glass glittered on his coat. He pulled himself to his hands and knees with a groan. The sounds of conflict outside grew louder. What was going on? Naya crawled to Lucia, fear tightening her throat. “Lucia?” she asked, touching the necromancer’s arm.

  “I’m all right,” Lucia said, though the lines of pain in her expression told a different story. She sat up and looked Naya up and down, then turned to Francisco. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Francisco said. “We have to get out of here.” He stood, his shoulders hunched against the side of the carriage that now faced up, and reached for the door latch. Naya drew in aether and listened. Outside, the crash of fists and feet against wood stopped, replaced by shouts of pain. Hopefully that meant the soldiers were driving the crowd back.

  “As soon as you have a clear route, get Lucia to safety,” Naya said to Francisco.

  “What about you?” Francisco asked.

  “I’ll make sure no one comes after you from behind.”

  Francisco hesitated, then nodded. He shoved the carriage door open and Naya hauled herself up and out, trying to orient herself in the confusion.

  Men in the blue-and-black uniforms of the Talmiran city guard frantically waved the other carriages through the palace gates while a score of soldiers in blue and gold tried to push the crowd away. Now that she had a clear view, Naya realized there couldn’t be more than fifty people gathered in the shadows cast by the aether lamps atop the walls. A few in the crowd wielded improvised clubs or broken bottles, but the soldiers seemed reluctant to draw their own weapons. Naya heard a muttered curse behind her as Francisco helped Lucia toward the open door. Lucia’s face was pale, but her jaw was set in determination.

  Desperate rage surged like fire through the aether. Naya turned just in time to see a man in tattered clothes sprinting toward her through a gap in the soldiers’ line. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, and something sharp gleamed in his right hand. Naya’s own eyes widened in horror as she realized what it was. The blade was not so finely wrought as others she had seen, but the aether twisting into the runes along its length marked it as a wraith eater.

  Naya’s focus narrowed to the blade as the attacker ran toward her. Aether rushed into the runes in a sickening vortex. Such weapons were designed for only one purpose—destroying the undead. Her fists clenched, and the aether churning inside her begged for release. She could gather heat in her hands to burn the man, or she could dazzle him with a blast of light. But if she did that, she’d reveal the illegal modifications Lucia had made when she’d carved Naya’s bones. Even a burst of unusual strength might risk drawing attention.

  The man lunged, moving with the frantic energy of an untrained fighter. Naya twisted to the side, slapping his arm to direct the knife away from her. He stumbled, then spun and tried to jab the knife into her chest. The attack was clumsy, but wraith eaters weren’t like ordinary blades. Just touching one would strain the runic bonds that kept Naya tethered to the living world. Again Naya avoided the blow, feeling the knife’s pull strengthen as it brushed the front of her blouse. Why weren’t the soldiers helping? She risked a glance to the side. Most were still occupied with holding back the crowd. But one soldier’s eyes were focused intently on the knife in the attacker’s hand.

  “Help me!” Naya shouted. But the soldier didn’t move. Naya clenched her teeth. She turned to evade another wild slash and managed to catch her attacker’s wrist. She grabbed his elbow with her other hand and twisted his whole arm up and back over his shoulder.

  The man cried out as he lost his balance and fell backward. His breath left him in a whoosh as his back struck the ground, and the knife clattered away onto the pavement. Finally, one of the soldiers stepped in, pinning the man down.

  “Get inside the gates!” a soldier, the same one who’d been watching her so intently before, shouted. Naya saw contempt written plainly on his features. She bent to snatch up the wraith eater, but the soldier moved one booted foot to cover the blade. “Get inside!” he repeated.

  A shudder crawled through Naya as she met the soldier’s eyes. She wondered if the uniform was the only thing preventing him from joining her attackers. She turned on her heel, her skirt swirling as she ran toward the palace.

  Past the gates, she joined Francisco and Lucia, who were hobbling toward the remaining carriages. A few members of the delegation stood outside their carriages while others poked their heads through the windows. Naya spotted Delence striding toward them, a furious frown visible under his gray mustache.

  “Are you all right?” he asked Francisco.

  Francisco stood a little straighter. The cut on his forehead was shallow and looked like it’d already stopped bleeding. “Yes, sir, just a few bruises and scrapes.”

  Delence nodded, then turned to Grand Marshal Palrak who stood with the soldiers by the gate. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked.

  “You were warned, I believe, that including undead in your party would pose additional security risks,” Palrak said.

  “Are you telling me Queen Lial’s command over her people is so weak that she cannot prevent them from attacking guests outside her own palace gates?” Delence asked.

  Palrak’s already stiff posture became rigid, and his aether took on the smoky stench of anger. “We will of course do everything in our power to protect the delegation. However, you should understand that many people are outraged at your insistence on bringing undead into Talmir. Our queen must walk a careful line between fulfilling her duties as Congress host and soothing the unrest your arrival has caused. Until moments ago, those people appeared to have gathered in peaceful protest. Attempting to disperse them earlier would have only caused greater anger and strife.”

  Nothing about the crowd had looked peaceful to Naya, and she could tell Delence felt the same. His nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath, salvaging some of his outward calm. Naya could feel tension buildin
g in the aether like the pressure before a thunderstorm. “I see,” he said. Then without another word, he stalked back to the carriages.

  Naya struggled to keep her expression blank as they rode the rest of the way to the palace. What had that man been doing with a wraith eater? Such weapons were rare even here in Talmir. For him to have one, for their carriage to be the last in the line, for it to be the only one attacked…It was all too much for coincidence.

  Once past the gate, the carriages followed a wide road that bisected flower beds and tiny groves of well-tended trees. Here the sounds of the city were muffled, and the night air hung heavy with the scents of flowers. The main palace sat at the center of the garden. Five wings radiated out from the palace’s domed center, their white marble walls gleaming in the moonlight. It looked strange from the ground, but from above the shape mimicked the starburst symbol of the Dawning, a reminder that the Creator was always looking down on those who ruled. Naya’s unease grew as their carriages halted in front of the palace’s main entrance, a wide doorway located between two of the building’s wings.

  A small army of servants waited on the staircase that swept up to the palace’s main doors. They bowed in unison as the delegation approached. “Welcome to Talmir, my lords and ladies,” said a long-faced man at the head of the gathered servants. “I am Chief Steward Neln. Our queen has charged me with arranging your accommodations. I apologize for the commotion outside, and for the unconventional nature of your arrival.”

  “Where is the queen?” Lady Briello asked. “She makes us come like thieves in the night, subjecting us to that rabble. And now she doesn’t even have the decency to greet us in person? My royal nephew will hear of this insult.”

  Neln’s bow deepened, his back and shoulders rod-straight. His expression of calm deference might as well have been painted on. “Forgive me, Lady Briello, no insult was intended. I will personally see that the delegation’s guard is doubled to ensure nothing like this happens again. The queen did wish to greet you, but certain matters arose that required her attention. She will be most pleased to welcome you formally at the ball tomorrow night.”

  Naya suspected she wasn’t the only one who saw through the obvious lie. Queen Lial had clearly never intended to be here tonight. She knew exactly what sort of message she was sending. You are not welcome. You are not wanted here.

  “If you follow me, I will show you to your rooms.” Neln gestured toward the double doors at the top of the stairs. He led them to a hallway on the third floor that ran the length of one of the palace’s wings. The whole hall had apparently been set aside for their use, including studies and meeting rooms at one end and servants’ rooms on the floor above.

  As the delegates sought their rooms, Lucia placed a hand on Francisco’s shoulder. “Come with me. That cut needs tending.”

  Francisco gave a small nod and muttered thanks under his breath. Unsure what else to do, Naya walked down the hall until she reached a door with a brass plaque bearing her name. It opened onto a lavish sitting room complete with two couches and a writing desk. A door to the left opened onto a bedchamber and a private water closet. Felicia stood in the bedroom, carefully plucking dresses from one of the two sea chests Delence had provided. The smaller bag with Naya’s personal belongings lay next to the chests, seemingly untouched.

  Felicia paused in her work as soon as she noticed Naya and dipped a shallow curtsy. “Sorry I don’t have it all done yet. Things were a bit hectic when we first arrived, and it seems the palace staff had some confusion over whose luggage went where.” Her apologetic smile fell away as she looked more closely at Naya. “Your clothes…what happened?”

  Naya glanced down at her skirt and blouse. One sleeve was torn at the elbow, and there were smudges of dirt and wood splinters stuck everywhere. “There was an attack at the gates. Our carriage got overturned by a mob.”

  Felicia’s eyes widened. “Really? What was it like?” She seemed to realize what she’d said and blushed. “I mean, is everyone in one piece?”

  “It wasn’t exactly fun, but everyone’s fine,” Naya said. Then after a moment’s thought, she added, “But you should probably be careful. If anyone finds out you’re my lady’s maid, they might come after you. In fact, I wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to ask Delence to reassign you.”

  Felicia shook her head. “And then what? Make one of the others take my place? Don’t worry, I won’t be scared off by a little mob.”

  “No one has to replace you,” Naya said. “I don’t need a lady’s maid.”

  “But of course you do,” Felicia said. “Who will help you with your clothes and your hair, and everything else?”

  “I don’t need help!” Naya snapped. “Practically everyone here thinks I’m a monster. They’re not going to care what my hair looks like.”

  Felicia took a step back. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Naya realized her hands were shaking. There was a stink of fear growing in Felicia’s aether. Naya looked away, embarrassed. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Awkward silence settled between them. “Can we talk about this later?” Naya asked.

  Felicia curtsied. “Yes, of course,” she said, sounding relieved. “If you need me, there’s a rune disk on the desk in the sitting room.”

  After Felicia left, Naya sat down on the bed and stared at her empty sea chest and the unopened bag beside it. The room was well lit, but Naya imagined she could feel the night pressing in. Her throat tightened, and for a moment she nearly called Felicia back, if only to have someone there to break the quiet.

  Instead she opened the small bag. She checked that her father’s logbook and purse were still secure at the bottom, then carefully extracted the velvet-wrapped parcel that sat just above them. The tips of her fingers seemed to tingle with energy as she unwrapped the little glass bird inside. She’d packed it carefully, but still it was a relief to see it had remained undamaged through the journey. The bird sat in her palm with its wings half-furled and the corners of its beak turned up in the suggestion of a smile.

  Naya set the bird carefully on top of the nightstand. “Well,” she said, staring at the bird’s mismatched eyes. “We made it to Talmir.” She pulled her knees to her chest. The bird didn’t respond. Obviously. Still, Naya imagined the room felt a little less empty. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. I thought that maybe by the time I got here I would know, but…”

  A knock came at the door, startling Naya from her thoughts. When she opened the door, she found Lucia standing out in the hall. The necromancer looked exhausted, but she smiled when she saw Naya. “May I come in?”

  “Of course,” Naya said.

  Lucia strode into the room and dropped onto one of the plush couches. “Creator, I’m tired.” She flexed her uninjured hand and Naya saw her fingers were trembling. “It’s a good thing Alejandra wasn’t here to see that,” Lucia said. “She was already so furious at me for leaving. I told her a dozen times that she was being silly, that even the Talmirans wouldn’t break the peace laws of the Congress. I didn’t mean it to be a lie. I wasn’t expecting…” She trailed off, then clenched her shaking fingers. “Well, we’re here now, so I suppose there’s no going back on it.” Lucia blinked, then rubbed her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” Naya said. “The wraith eater didn’t get close enough to do any real damage to my bones.”

  Lucia’s eyes widened and she sat forward. “A wraith eater? What happened?”

  “A man in the crowd attacked me.” The anger smoldering inside her flared. “And the guards just stood there watching it happen.”

  Lucia surprised Naya by giving an indignant snort. “I suppose we should be grateful they didn’t try to tip our carriage themselves.” She paused, then looked more closely at Naya. “Well, I’m glad to hear you weren’t hurt. But when I asked how you were feeling, it wasn’t your bones I was talking about.”
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  Naya’s throat tightened. In her mind she saw the twisted hatred in the face of the man who’d attacked her. That same hatred had echoed on the faces of everyone else in the crowd, and she’d sensed it in the guards and some of the palace staff as well. Logically she’d known something like this would happen. She’d told herself to expect it. But seeing it in person had felt like a punch to the stomach.

  “I’m fine,” she lied.

  Lucia’s eyes still looked worried behind her glasses. She reached out and patted Naya awkwardly on the hand. In the moment of contact, Naya could sense something warm and soft and sad in Lucia’s aether. “I’m afraid I’ve never been much good with people,” Lucia said slowly. “But if you need someone to talk to, I can at least listen.”

  Naya’s eyes burned with tears she couldn’t shed. She had the irrational urge to bury her face in Lucia’s shoulder and sob like she had when she was small. Corten’s death had left her hollow. Now the world felt so heavy around her that she feared any moment she would crumble into nothing. But Lucia wasn’t her mother. It wasn’t her job to take care of Naya. And if Lucia realized how shaken she was feeling, she might decide Naya was too weak to go through with their plan.

  “Thank you,” Naya muttered. “But I’m—I’ll be fine.” She drew in a deep breath of aether to steady herself. Then wanting desperately to change the subject, she added, “You said you couldn’t talk to Valn during the journey? What happened?”

  Lucia removed her glasses and cleaned them with a small white cloth. “Delence made sure no one got near him. And I’m afraid my constitution didn’t agree with sea travel. I wasn’t able to spend much time with the delegates.” She frowned. “What little conversation we did have wasn’t terribly fruitful. Delence has used the recent upheaval to move his friends into power. It’s been mostly good for the Necromantic Council, but everything I heard fit with what young Francisco said earlier. The people his father chose for the delegation are more interested in achieving economic independence and rebuilding the Ceramoran Army than they are in expanding the rights of the undead. I doubt any of them would take kindly to our little quest.”