The Bone Maker

by Sarah Beth Durst

  “And your love for your son has blinded you,” Kreya countered. Lorn had been standing at the pyre when Eklor performed the spell. He had to have seen the bones Eklor used, and he was far too educated a bone worker to mistake them for anything but what they were.

  Zera asked the question. “Why protect Eklor now? Your son already lives. Discovering you were tricked by a vicious worm disguised as a human being won’t undo that.”

  Grumbling spread up and down the council, but it wasn’t in agreement with Zera. We have no allies here, Kreya thought. She hadn’t anticipated that. She’d thought they’d at least be met with neutrality, if not open minds.

  Drifting closer to Kreya, Jentt whispered in her ear, “We’re missing something. There has to be a reason they’re not listening. They aren’t being rational. He got to them somehow.”

  Kreya nodded. Just the suspicion of wrongdoing should have been enough to launch an investigation. It wasn’t as if they’d demanded Eklor’s immediate arrest. All they wanted was for the masters to act sensibly and cautiously—and then, obviously, toss him in jail and swallow the key.

  Jentt’s right. Eklor has something on them, Kreya thought. Blackmail. Threats. Or a bribe? A promise to resurrect them and their loved ones? There’s something we’re missing . . . Seemingly unconcerned, he was twirling that valley-damned talisman again.

  “What is that?” Marso whispered to Zera.

  “Not one of mine,” she whispered back. “Unfamiliar pattern.”

  If Zera didn’t recognize it . . . But there were more pressing matters than solving the mystery of one measly talisman. Whatever it was, he hadn’t used it to attack them or to escape. She focused back on the council.

  “You must at least consider the possibility—” Jentt was saying.

  “Enough,” Grand Master Lorn said. “Your baseless accusations, combined with your theatrics, are making a mockery of all of us. All of Vos is grateful for your past efforts against a true threat to our world and lives, but you must accept that time as past, lest you who were once Vos’s heroes become our villains.”

  Master Eklor rose, his face somber, his hands clasped piously in front of him, cradling the talisman. “I assure you all that I come in peace with only a hope of achieving, if not forgiveness, then at least some measure of atonement before I breathe my last breath. My methods hurt no one, either living or dead.” Turning to the Five, he said, “Master Kreya, Master Jentt, Master Stran, Master Zera, and Master Marso, Heroes of Vos . . . I deeply regret the pain I have caused each of you, and I know that your forgiveness is impossible. But I hope that you, in your zeal, will not be the cause of needless suffering. You have heard of my miracles with resurrection. But here is what you do not know, the reason the council has voted to support me.”

  Yes, she wanted to hear this. What reason could possibly be sufficient for them to turn their back on the past, on the future, and on the innocent?

  “I have in my power the ability to extend the life of every bone worker in this guild, as well as the lives of their loved ones. This is what I have come to offer every bone worker. A chance for they and their loved ones to defeat death before it comes for them!”

  A hush fell over the hall.

  Kreya felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. She stared at Eklor. This was how he had won them all over. At least she understood. He wasn’t offering a nebulous promise of future resurrection. He was offering them and their families longevity. He was offering them life now.

  Still . . . Still, didn’t any of them have reservations? A suspicion that it was too good to be true? Concern about the consequences?

  “The cost—” Kreya began.

  “The cost is mine to bear,” Eklor said.

  “If you were truly paying it, you’d be dead by now,” Kreya shot back. She wished immediately she could recall the words. She did not want the council asking how she knew the details of the spell so well. It was important to tread carefully. But to her surprise, no one on the council questioned her.

  Eklor shook his head sadly. “You speak out of a lack of knowledge. I have refined the resurrection spell well beyond my clumsy attempts years ago. I am able to perform it without draining the life of myself or anyone else.”

  “Tell them how you know,” Zera whispered.

  But Kreya shook her head. With the council set against them, she was not about to reveal that she had violated the law. Far too risky. “Prove it,” she said to Eklor. “Show me the spell.”

  “You will understand if I don’t trust you,” Eklor said.

  “Then show another master. Teach it to Grand Master Lorn. Show Master Subene. Or Master Rabkin. Demonstrate the spell to the entirety of the Bone Workers Guild. If it’s as innocent a spell as you claim, then share it. Let all bone workers grant extra life to the people of Vos.”

  He smiled, and she knew she’d made a mistake, though she didn’t know what the mistake was. “I have already shared the spell with Grand Master Lorn. He has approved its use and already shared his conclusion with the council. Would you contradict the verdict of the grand master?”

  “I have indeed reviewed and approved the spell to my and the council’s satisfaction,” Grand Master Lorn pronounced.

  Kreya gaped at him.

  “If you want proof of my goodwill,” Eklor said, seeming to enjoy Kreya’s disbelief, “come in two days’ time. On that day, I will be giving the miracle of extended life to all bone workers and their families. Grand Master Lorn has summoned bone workers from across Vos. They are traveling here as we speak.”

  Prickles ran up and down Kreya’s neck. There were hundreds of bone workers of varying skill levels across the vast mountains of Vos. The number of deaths it would take to extend all those lives . . . Kreya gawked at Eklor, then at all of them. “So you’re just going to believe him? Believe the man who waged war against all of us? The man who caused the deaths of your brothers, sisters, parents, children? You’re going to accept that this miracle of a second life comes with zero cost, with no review or oversight?”

  “No,” Grand Master Lorn boomed, “what we will not do is let old hatreds destroy this golden opportunity! Without proof, actual solid proof, of ill intent, we would be fools to refuse such a rare and precious gift.”

  Beatifically, Eklor spread his arms wide. “This is my act of redemption. Allow me to take this risk, give this gift, and bless the bone workers whom I have caused such pain.”

  Kreya could only gawk at him.

  “It’s a trap,” Zera said to the council. “Obviously. I bet he has no intention of working this miracle spell. He just wants to gather all his enemies in one hall and unleash his army.”

  “Clever plan,” Jentt agreed. “Appealing bait.”

  “He’ll kill you all,” Stran said. “Succeeding where he failed before. Please, masters, listen to Kreya, listen to Zera, listen to us! You’re in danger!”

  “We have listened to you,” Grand Master Lorn said. “This ‘army’ doesn’t exist. We have listened to you out of gratitude for your past deeds and sympathy for what you have suffered, but you have presented us only conjecture and fear. Produce evidence of this ‘army,’ show us proof of Eklor’s misdeeds beyond mere coincidence, and we will act. But unless you have concrete facts to back up your wild claims, I suggest you remove yourself from this hall and cease spreading baseless fear.”

  Kreya opened her mouth to yell louder that they were being idiots . . .

  And heard Zera suck in a gasp. She whispered to Jentt, and Jentt laid a hand on Kreya’s shoulder, silencing her. Kreya shot a look over at Zera. What was it? What did she know? Or guess?

  In a voice wavering with age, Master Epsana, the woman who had been asleep earlier, said, “We are not fools, Master Kreya. We will not walk into darkness with our eyes closed. If Master Eklor brings evil, we will not accept it. But if he brings hope and life . . . then do not deny us the right to choose it.”

  Master Subene chimed in. “Find proof and return.�
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  “We told you where to find proof!” Kreya said. “Grand Master Lorn’s palace! The bones are there, right now, if you send someone—”

  Leaning over, Eklor whispered a word to Grand Master Lorn.

  “Enough!” Grand Master Lorn said to Kreya. “I know what lies in my palace, and there are no human bones within. I have had enough of you questioning my integrity and my intelligence. Heroes you may be, but you have worn out your welcome here.”

  She was about to launch into arguing more, to go through it all again, but Kreya’s team urged her backward, with Jentt pulling her hand and Zera guiding her other elbow. Bowing, Jentt said to all the masters, “We thank you for your time, and hope you will consider what we have said and proceed with caution.”

  Kreya turned to glare at him and noticed that several guild soldiers were flanking them. They looked nervous but resolute. If she didn’t want this audience to turn into a brawl, then leaving gracefully now was their only option.

  Part of her wanted to turn it into a fight. Knock sense into their heads, before any more innocents died. But that wouldn’t make them see reason. Fools. Damn fools. Grinding her teeth, she stalked out of the great hall and didn’t stop until they were out of the guild headquarters full of uncaring masters, only to find herself standing beneath the uncaring sun.

  Outside, Kreya stalked through the third tier, away from the guild headquarters and its obstinate, delusional, selfish, shortsighted, moronic—

  “It was a persuasion talisman,” Zera said.

  “A what?” Marso asked.

  “Remember the mindcloud jaguar in the valley,” Zera asked Kreya, “the one that hypnotizes its prey and nearly killed me? I bet anything Eklor’s talisman is carved from a mindcloud jaguar bone.”

  “Mind manipulation talismans are forbidden,” Stran said.

  “So is corrupting a bone reading and claiming it’s truth,” Marso said. “And using human bone in a bone-making spell. And raising an army of constructs to try to kill everyone. We know Eklor will cross any line. Why not this one?”

  “But he’s not a bone wizard,” Kreya said. He was a bone maker, like she was; that was how he’d made the constructs for his army. Of course, he had been alone for twenty-five years, plenty of time to hone new skills. And he was undeniably a genius. She’d read his journals.

  She wondered if he’d used the talisman on her, that time in Lorn’s palace when she’d agreed to give him the benefit of the doubt. She remembered he’d put it away when she’d noticed it, but had he already messed with her mind? Or were all her mistakes her own?

  “He’s not a reader, either. But he showed at least some proficiency there.”

  “And he might not be at my level as a wizard, but he could be good enough to craft an effective talisman—he had plenty of time to work on it, especially if he focused on perfecting just that one type,” Zera said. “Think about it. Persuasion talisman to soften up Lorn and the council. Bone reading to show them what he wants them to see. And resurrection spell to prove he can do the impossible. Combine all of that with an irresistible offer of eternal life, and there you go.”

  “We need to destroy that talisman,” Stran said. “Free the council from his influence.”

  “How?” Jentt asked. “We’d never get close enough. He’s under Grand Master Lorn’s protection, and it looks as though the protection of the entire Council of Bones too.”

  “Plus we just got kicked out of there, if you noticed,” Zera said.

  “If he works his longevity spell,” Marso said anxiously, “innocent people will die.”

  “And if he doesn’t work the spell and instead orders his army to attack the guild,” Stran said, “innocent people will die. Either way, whatever he plans, it is a tragedy waiting to happen.”

  Both of them are correct, Kreya thought. It almost didn’t matter what his end goal was, since either result was unacceptable.

  “What do we do?” Zera asked.

  And all of them looked at Kreya.

  Kreya took a deep breath. She quit raging. And she started planning. “Master Subene said we can return if we come with proof. So we need to obtain proof. Use that to either shake Eklor’s hold on the minds of the council, or to at least get close enough to him to destroy the talisman.” She turned to Jentt and Zera. “I need you two to get to the hospital. Zera, you charm your way inside. Convince the hospital to increase their security. Donate enough for a private security force if you have to, to protect the patients. Instruct them to watch for unauthorized constructs. Cut off Eklor’s access to his favorite victims.” She turned to Jentt. “Jentt, you need to identify which doctors treated the patients who have already died. Speed them out of there. We’ll need to protect them from Eklor. He’ll go after them, if he can. He won’t want to risk their testifying against him—there’s a chance they may have witnessed a construct stealing the blood from his victims. At the very least, they can testify that the deaths were unexpected. Anyone know a safe house they can hide in until we’re ready to bring them before the council?”

  “I know a few places,” Zera said. “I can direct Jentt, after I talk to security.”

  “You think the doctors will be able to provide enough proof?” Stran asked. “Exactly how powerful are persuasion talismans? Will the testimony of witnesses be enough to counter its effects?”

  Zera shrugged. “Never experimented with illegal talismans. But based on my work with non-horrifying ones, my guess is that we can break his hold if we present enough tangible evidence to create cognitive dissonance. He’s influencing their minds, not controlling them. They need to want to believe him, at least on some level. Shake that up, and we may have a chance.”

  “And if we can’t . . . well, then our goal becomes destroying the talisman,” Kreya said. “But to do that, we have to be close to Eklor. And to get close, we have to have proof, as I said. So let’s go get it. Marso, Stran, you’re with me.” She kept walking toward the gateway between the tiers. She didn’t even glance at Zera and Jentt as they split away.

  With luck, Eklor would be stranded at the headquarters for a while longer, placating everyone and acting the innocent, possibly twirling that blasted persuasion talisman some more. Grand Master Lorn would stay as well to reassure people that the accusations were baseless, either because he was in thrall to the talisman himself or because he’d been persuaded by his son’s fate. Or both. Regardless, Kreya and her team would have a slim window in which to act.

  Stran caught up to her. “What are you going to do?”

  “Get the bones, obviously,” Kreya said. “Keep up, Stran.”

  Eklor needed two things to complete the resurrection spell: bones and blood. Best case, they’d be able to use the bones from the plains to discredit him and stop him. Worse case, Eklor would have to find replacement bones, which would slow him down.

  If they could at least make Eklor have to delay his miracle-for-every-bone-worker plan, then they’d buy time to prove the price for his “gift” was too high. And they’d buy themselves time to find that damned, thrice-rotted army, which would be the most compelling proof of all.

  In the meantime, every delay helped. He’d be asked to continue his daily “miracles,” and the more people he had to kill to work those miracles—and the greater the risks he had to take to do so—the greater the odds he’d be caught. Kreya didn’t delude herself into thinking they could prevent more deaths. Even if they protected every single doctor and patient in the hospital, Eklor would find other victims. He could have his constructs prowl the streets to prey on the homeless, he could seek out victims in the prisons, or he could range wider and find his victims in remote farmhouses and sparse villages. But she’d save as many as she could until she could force the guild to see the threat for what it was—to see him for who he was.

  She put together a plan as they moved up the tiers.

  It was a sloppy plan, built on surprise and strength, but she had zero doubt that Eklor would move quickly to secure
his bone supply. She had to get there first.

  A crowd flocked behind them as they strode through the fourth tier to the fifth. She didn’t bother to hide their identities. There wasn’t time for any of that. They gave their real names to the guards at the gateway, and they rode the white stones directly to Lorn’s palace. She marched up the stairs.

  Marso stopped her. “I can’t read in battle conditions. Not yet.”

  “You don’t need to,” Kreya said.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Lie,” Kreya said. “On my cue and loudly.”

  Stran was on her other side. “And me?”

  “Get us in.”

  He eyed the two armored guards who stood on either side of the brass door. “You want me to sweet-talk our way in?”

  Kreya leveled a look at him. “I want you to knock down the damn door.”

  He smiled. “Got it.” Charging up the steps, he roared as he activated a strength talisman.

  Running behind him, Kreya shouted, “Out of our way! Emergency!” She hauled Marso with her. “He’s seen danger within!” Lower: “Now, Marso.”

  With all the intensity of a consummate theater performer, Marso began to howl, “Danger! Doom! Horrors!”

  Startled, the guards sprang back as Stran plowed through the brass doors. They popped off their hinges and crashed with an echoing clang. Kreya called to the guards, “Don’t let anyone in, even Grand Master Lorn—it’s too dangerous! Everyone must be kept outside, where they’ll be safe!”

  “But what—” one began.

  “We’ll take care of it!” Kreya shouted with authority. “You protect the innocents! Do your duty!”

  He saluted. “We will! Good luck!”

  Marso shuddered visibly. “We need it.” And then they barged inside, joining Stran.

  Charging down the hall, Kreya led the way unerringly. Stran bellowed, “Emergency! Run for your lives!” Marso continued to rant loudly about danger, and the servants and other bone workers cleared out of the way.

  “Follow me!” she called to Marso and Stran, and together they ran down the corridor.