I squirm. “I’m not sure what other choice I have. The cavern bridge is too fragile. It can’t support all the Ferriers.” I still haven’t told the famille about the second soul bridge, the only place we can ferry on the full moon, unlike the land bridge, which can only be used on the new moon. I can’t risk endangering anyone else but myself.
Ailesse crosses her arms. “Well, I’m going to help, of course. We’ll help each other. That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to find you, so we can ferry together.”
“No, you can’t.” I sigh. “That’s why I’ve been trying to find you. Our mother wants you to free her and—”
“Jules told me about that, too.”
“Let me finish.” I twist my hands in my lap. “Odiva says all you have to do is touch her hand, but I’m worried it will be more than that. What if she’s trying to sacrifice you to Tyrus again? She could still be striving to fulfill her pact to release my father from the Underworld.”
“Even if that was her plan, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t ferry again,” Ailesse counters. “I’ll be careful.”
“Like you were last time on the cavern bridge?” I lift a brow. “You would have run through Tyrus’s Gate if Odiva hadn’t stabbed Bastien.”
She flinches. “You don’t know I wouldn’t have stopped on my own.”
“I saw you, Ailesse. Tyrus’s siren song brought out all your weaknesses. And Odiva can be just as manipulative.”
“Well, I’ve learned from my mistakes,” she says defensively. “I won’t repeat them. It’s you I’m worried about tonight.”
“Me?” I shrink back.
“You weren’t able to finish ferrying on the new moon. The Chained are loose because of it.”
“That’s only because I saw Odiva in the Underworld. I was startled, unprepared for—”
“You’ll face more startling challenges while ferrying.”
“Yes, but I have five grace bones now.”
“And how much have they helped you withstand your golden jackal grace?” She throws a pointed look at my crescent pendant. “That’s what’s bringing out all your weaknesses, Sabine. That power is tied to Tyrus. You always had the strongest Light, but I think the jackal is suppressing it.”
I stand abruptly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t even seen me since last month.”
“I have seen you.” She rises without her crutch and balances on her good leg. “The silver owl showed me how you’ve been suffering. I saw how you killed the jackal and claimed his graces, and how you’ve been unstable ever since—jumping through stained-glass windows, fleeing the land bridge, hurting Hyacinthe, running away from home.”
My eyes sting. I turn my back to her.
“I’m sure the jackal gives you great power,” she says, her voice a little softer now. “But is it worth the cost? Will it help you or endanger you when you try to ferry again?”
I look down at my hands, the dirt beneath my fingernails, the ragged skirt of my ferrying dress . . . I’ve been wearing it for over two weeks now. I must look wild and ferocious. No wonder Ailesse doubts me.
She limps closer and wraps her arms around me from behind. “Oh, Sabine, I don’t wish to argue. Forgive me. You and I are going to be fine tonight, just as long as we’re together. Surely that’s all the silver owl wanted to tell me—that we should be ferrying side by side.”
My shoulders relax, and I set my hand on her arm. She’s right. We do need each other. Together we’ll be safe. I take a deep breath. “When you see Odiva tonight, don’t let her rattle you. Remember who you are.”
“I’m my mother’s firstborn daughter,” she murmurs. “How will that help me?”
“You’re more than just her daughter—or even the matrone one day, if that’s what you really want. Odiva didn’t make you. She may have given birth to you and influenced some of the choices you made, but she didn’t compel you to be anyone other than yourself. Your soul is too bold to be shaped by someone else. You’re your own person, Ailesse. You made you.”
She falls quiet for a moment, her cheek pressed against the back of my shoulder. “Have I ever told you’re the sweetest, wisest person I’ve ever known?”
“Don’t forget ‘kindest’ and ‘most loving.’”
“You also smell of mildew and deer droppings. No wonder I couldn’t track you.”
I whirl around and slug her arm, laughing.
“Ouch!” She bursts into giggles. “Careful, you’re stronger than you realize.”
“Oh, I know my strength.” I lunge for her. She squeals, hopping backward to pick up her crutch. She fends me off with it.
We circle each other, laughing harder. The sky thunders, and the clouds unleash heavy rain. I pick up clods of muddy dirt and throw them at her. She dodges the first one, but the second one splatters her squarely in the chest. She wheezes with laughter. “All right, you win! Have mercy on . . .” Her eyes widen. Face blanches. She staggers, leaning heavily on her crutch.
My smile wilts. “Ailesse? What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, her brow furrowed. “I think it’s my Light. This is how I felt when . . .” She stiffens. “Cas. He’s under attack again. Sabine, I have to go.”
My stomach tenses. “But how will you reach him in time?”
“I don’t know. I have to try.”
I hurry to her side. “I’ll come with you.” I don’t care about the king, only that Ailesse is in danger because of their soul-bond.
“You can’t. We don’t have much time before midnight. You should return to Château Creux. We need more Ferriers. There must be a few you trust. They don’t have to stand on the bridge with us; they can help from the ledge in the cavern.”
“But—”
“I’ll be fine.” She swipes dripping hair off her face and sets her jaw in that obstinate way of hers. “We can’t lose this chance to ferry, and we shouldn’t thwart the opportunity by trying to do it on our own. It’s too dangerous.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yes.” She waves me away. “And I’ll have four friends ready to help me once I reach Cas. They can’t see the dead, though. They need me.” She sets off at a quick pace toward Dovré, using her crutch only lightly. “Go, Sabine,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the cavern bridge.”
I fight off a rush of uneasiness and race back to my trap, praying I’ve made the right decision to let Ailesse and me separate. The souls of the dead shriek from the pit. I roll each stone off the bramble covering so it’s unanchored again.
I grab my fallen staff and hurry away from the pit toward Château Creux. The Chained will find a way to free themselves from my trap. Mad desperation will drive them to it after they hear the ferrying song.
I race faster and steel my nerves for what’s ahead—returning home and, much more worrying, having to face my mother again. But I will, without shrinking. I’ll have Ailesse by my side. The dead will be ferried to the Beyond. My sister and I will see it done.
The plague on Dovré ends tonight.
18
Ailesse
I RACE INSIDE CHAPELLE DU Pauvre, my cloak dripping with rain. I throw back my hood and rush down the hatch behind the altar, through the cellar after lighting a lantern, then the catacombs tunnels and down the scaffolding on the side of the quarry pit. My knee throbs—I’m barely using my crutch—but I can’t pause to rest.
“Cas?” I call, clumsily slipping down the ladder despite my ibex grace. My muscles tremble, leeched of strength. I’m too drained of Light. “Bastien?” My heart pounds faster. What if I’m too late?
I don’t know if they can hear me. I can’t hear them or any sounds of struggle. That isn’t comforting. The quarry is too closed off to echo sound. My friends could be battling three Chained down here, and I wouldn’t hear any commotion until I was within several feet of them.
I jump off the ladder when I’m five rungs away from Bastien’s room. I burst inside,
my bone knife drawn.
“Ailesse!” Marcel jumps in front of me, and I startle. His eyes are as wide as saucers. “I’m so glad you’re back. We need your help!”
I shove past him and scan the room. Bastien and Birdine aren’t here. Only Marcel, Jules, and Cas. I whirl around and look behind me. I don’t understand. I don’t see any streaks of chazoure. “Where are they?”
“Who?” Jules crosses her arms. She stands by the open end of the room, near the drop-off into the quarry.
“The dead.”
“The dead are coming?” Cas scrambles to his feet. I don’t know how he thinks he’ll defend himself. He’s no longer tied up in excessive rope, but his wrists are bound together, and his ankle is attached to a ball and chain. Bastien and Marcel thieved it from a city prison a few days ago.
“Can’t you tell when they’re stealing your Light?” I limp back to the scaffolding and shine my lantern into the quarry. How are the dead hiding from me? “You need to pay closer attention. Some Chained are subtle. They might not attack you outright. They could sit silently by and drain your energy away.”
Jules coughs into her fist. “None of the Chained are in here, Ailesse. I, for one, would know if I lost any more Light by force.”
I stare at the sickly shade of her skin and how her once tight-fitting clothes now look baggy. Her condition is worsening. “But . . . Marcel just said he needed my help.”
“Yes!” He lumbers back to me. “You’re our resident Bone Crier—er, Leurress—and so your opinion holds the most weight. I want to know what you think of my new theory.”
I hear him only vaguely. I’m still struggling to slow down my racing heartbeat. “Where’s Bastien?” I turn back to Jules, unable to shake the feeling that someone I care about is in danger.
“He’s on a supply run.” She coughs again, and it rattles deeper in her chest. “Should be back by now, but knowing him, he’s probably stealing you another pretty outfit.”
I ignore the jab and set down my lantern, limping toward Cas. Even though Bastien and I are just friends now, Jules hasn’t given up the habit of goading me about his small kindnesses, like the clothes he brought me after I abandoned my La Liaison dress in the river.
“Have you ever considered that Tyrus’s magic involves more than bones?” Marcel trails behind me. “What if it’s tied to the elements, too?”
“Just a moment,” I say. “Are you sure you’re well?” I ask Cas. “I felt a sudden loss of Light, and it’s still fading within me. Don’t you feel it, too? I was sure the Chained had found you.”
His brows hitch inward at the tender concern in my voice. A slipup. I’ve tried my best not to give him or Bastien any hope that I can return their affections right now.
“I do feel much weaker tonight,” he confesses. “I feared you were the one who had been attacked.”
“Isn’t it obvious what’s wrong with him?” Jules paces along the edge of the room. “He’s desperate for Light, the same way you were when we abducted you into the catacombs.”
“She could be onto something.” Marcel absently shuffles behind me, waiting to share his theory. “Tonight is a full moon. Maybe Cas senses that on an innermost level, and it’s made his need all the more insatiable.”
“But he isn’t a Leurress.” I frown. “He shouldn’t need sustenance from Light like I do.”
“Maybe he does.” Jules lifts a shoulder. “It’s probably just another part of the soul-bond you share. Next thing you know, his hair will darken to auburn, and your voice will drop an octave. He’ll take up ferrying the dead, and we’ll start having to call you Your Majesty.”
“Hilarious.”
She smirks.
“I do think going outside would help,” Cas says, “even if it’s only for an hour.” He licks his lips and shifts a step closer. “Could we try it?”
“You know we can’t.” I sigh. I know how it feels to be starved of Light. “It’s too dangerous with all the dissenters. If the dead among them find you or discover where you’ve been hiding . . .” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Cas.”
His expression falls. He slumps back against the wall.
I try to nudge away my guilt. After Sabine and I ferry, I’ll let him return home.
“I have to go.” I brush some of the wetness from my cloak before it gets drenched all over again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turn to leave, but Jules has already thrown on her own cloak, and she’s holding the lantern I set down a moment ago. I freeze. “What are you doing?”
“Going to look for Bastien,” she replies, as if the answer is obvious. “Three of us don’t need to guard the king.”
“But I have to leave.” Midnight is a little over an hour away, and it will take almost all that time to travel to the cavern bridge. “I finally found Sabine tonight, and we—” I stop short. I can’t tell Jules we’re going to ferry. She’ll tell Bastien, and he’ll be furious.
The cavern bridge is one crack away from completely crumbling, he said three days ago, when I brought up reconsidering it. Promise me you won’t risk ferrying there. The plan, as far as he knows, is to wait to ferry at the land bridge.
No promises were made; I evaded answering him directly. Bastien doesn’t understand what it’s like to carry the responsibility of protecting the living from the dead. How can I wait another fourteen days to ferry on the new moon?
Jules loses patience and steps onto the scaffolding platform. She climbs the first two rungs of the ladder. Her legs already tremble from weakness.
“Wait,” I say. “You’re not strong enough to—”
She casts me a murderous glare. “You don’t know me, Ailesse. I’m always strong enough—in all ways. Maybe you can toss aside your feelings for Bastien, but that will never be me. I’m going to find out where he is and make sure he’s safe.”
I stand stunned, even after she’s gone, and keep my back to Marcel and Cas. I never tossed aside my feelings for Bastien. Is that what they all think? Is that what he thinks?
Marcel’s footsteps approach lackadaisically. He taps me on the shoulder. “So, back to my theory on the elements,” he says, oblivious to his bad timing. “Tyrus’s Gate can be made of water, wind, and earth, right? At least wind and particles of earth held the Gate of dust together last month. And Elara’s Gate is made of some kind of spirit, being transparent and all. But guess which of the five elements is missing from the Gates?” Before I have a chance to respond, he answers, “Fire,” and grins smugly. “So what do you think? Could we use it against him?”
“Um . . .” I try to compose myself. “I don’t see how.” What would we do, shoot flaming arrows into the Underworld while I make my list of demands? “But it’s an interesting idea.” It’s more progress than the rest of us have made toward outmaneuvering Tyrus, anyway. “You should explore it more.”
“Thanks, Ailesse,” he says brightly. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I have a book about the elements in one of our other hideouts. I’ll see if I can find it. Bye for now.” He ambles past me and grabs one of the lanterns.
“Wait, you can’t leave, too. Who will guard Cas?”
“Birdine’s here.” He flings an easy grin. “She’s taking a bath below.” I fight an eye roll at her excessive habit of bathing in a pool of groundwater off one of the quarry tunnels. “I’m sure she’ll be up soon.”
I sigh roughly as he climbs the scaffolding ladder. My friends and I have a rule—my rule—that we never leave Cas alone.
I rethink how long it will take me to travel to the cavern bridge. I suppose I can spare a quarter hour to wait for Birdine and still make it there by midnight.
“You shouldn’t let her upset you,” Cas says.
“Birdine?”
“No, Jules.” He settles down on a straw mattress and props one knee to his chest. “She strikes me as the type that can’t stop picking at an old wound. It can make a person believe healing isn’t within their own power.”
It’s such a wise thing to say
—such a Sabine thing to say—that I catch myself staring at him. I smile softly. “You remind me of my sister.”
His gentle expression fades. “Your sister tried to kill me.”
“No, she wanted me to kill you.”
“But you have no desire to; that’s the difference. You’re invested in finding a way to break our soul-bond.”
“Please don’t misjudge Sabine.” I limp closer. “She was only trying to protect me. She respects life more than any Leurress.”
Cas scoffs.
“This isn’t the only time she’s been tested. Did you know her mother died two years ago?”
“You said the woman on the cavern bridge was your mother—and hers.”
“That’s true.” I sit on the floor in front of him. I haven’t taken a long look at him in days. He’s grown some stubble along his jaw, and it’s redder than the lighter shade of his strawberry hair. It makes him look older, more kingly . . . more handsome. “But Sabine was raised to believe another woman was her mother. And when that woman was killed ferrying, she was devastated. I needed a second grace bone, and she needed solace, so I took her on a great trip to the north to hunt an alpine ibex.”
Cas idly tugs on the chain around his ankle. “And did it help her?”
“No.” I laugh and pull my crutch into my lap. “She missed being home. I’m the one who craves adventure. Sabine likes steadiness and security, but that doesn’t make her weak. She’s also fiercely loyal to what she believes in, though careful about what she trusts. She’s always questioned the cost of being a Leurress, the sacrifices necessary. . . .”
“Yet she’s willing to sacrifice for you.”
I pick at a splinter of wood. “I’m what Sabine believed in most. She had a harder time believing in herself, which is . . .” I struggle for the right word. “Astonishing.”
Bone Crier's Dawn Page 14
