Bone Crier's Moon

by Kathryn Purdie

  A deafening boom splits the air. The force drives me to my knees.

  Boom! Boom!

  The middle of the ceiling shatters apart. A storm of dirt and splintered wood rains down on me. I cover my head with my hands. Chunks of debris scrape my arms and back.

  The bridge shudders beneath me. Fissures crack along the limestone. I frantically crawl forward, trying to reach the safety of the ledge.

  The Chained hasn’t fallen off the bridge. He shields his eyes from the settling dust and rubble and rises to his feet. A deep fissure snakes toward him, but suddenly freezes as the bridge stops quaking. Everything silences except my ringing ears. The Chained charges at me again. I scramble backward. My mind is still rattled with shock. I don’t know what to do.

  The last of the rubble clears. In that instant, a cool rush of energy sweeps into me. It radiates from the crown of my head to the tips of my fingers and the soles of my feet. My lungs expand. My heartbeat steadies. My blood surges with strength and Light. The sky has opened. The power of the moon and the stars reaches my bones and fires life into my graces.

  I jump to my feet and bolt for the Chained man.

  My fist connects with his jaw as we collide. His head jerks sideways. His hands grope out to strangle me, but I shove my knee into his gut and force him back again. He’s the tiger shark in the lagoon. He’s the bridge in view of Beau Palais. I welcome the challenge.

  For every hit he gives me, I give him three. I leap over him and strike him from behind. When I receive a blow, I stumble back farther than I need to. It’s a ploy. I’m drawing him closer and closer to the Gate of the Underworld.

  He’s so furious he doesn’t notice. I play on that rage. I laugh when I dodge him. I prod instead of punch him. He’s seething when I’m a yard away from the Gate. Energy pulses across my back, deeper than my sixth sense. The powerful lure of Tyrus’s realm. I clench my jaw and refocus on the Chained.

  “Ailesse!” A distant shout comes from above. My heart seizes. Bastien. I can’t spare a moment to look at him. The Chained man is lunging at me.

  I grab one of his arms. With all my strength, I swing him backward over my head and let go. The momentum casts him through the Gate. Black dust sucks him inside.

  A dizzying breath of relief purges from my chest. I break into an exultant smile. The monster is gone.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” someone whispers. I startle and whirl behind me. An Unchained young woman is on the bridge. She wears a brocade dress and a jeweled diadem. She drifts closer, tears flowing down her face. Her eyes are fixated on the near-invisible shimmer of Elara’s Gate. “But I don’t want to go,” she tells me. “Please, don’t make me go.”

  I touch her chazoure-glowing arm. “You’ll be with loved ones who have passed on before you. They’ll sing to you and ease your worries. They’ll build you a castle made of silver and Light.”

  The young woman painstakingly pulls her focus from the Gate to me. “Will my mother be there?”

  “Was your mother good?”

  “She sacrificed everything for me.”

  “Then she will be waiting to embrace you.”

  The young woman gives me a trembling smile, but doesn’t move forward.

  “Listen closer to that beautiful song,” I say, directing her to Elara’s descant, the only siren song that an Unchained can hear from the Beyond. “It’s meant to give you peace. Trust that feeling.”

  More tears streak down her face as she nods and inhales a deep breath. She wanders past me toward the shimmering Gate without any more reassurance.

  “Ailesse, can you hear me?” Bastien yells, but the sound fades in my ears. It’s eclipsed by the rising swell of the other siren song—Tyrus’s song. Only the Leurress can hear both parts of the music.

  Tyrus’s dark and distinctive melody pulses from the Gate of dust and swallows the descant from Elara’s Gate. The music almost has a masculine voice. I feel it murmur, Cross over to me, Ailesse. See my wonders. Nothing in your world compares to mine.

  The Unchained woman’s dress trails behind her as she steps across the threshold of Elara’s Gate. Her chazoure body transforms into silver, and then she’s nothing more than a translucent sheen twirling up the staircase to Paradise. It’s breathtaking. But my eyes drift back to the churning black dust. I can’t see anything past it, not even the stone wall.

  I’ve been told a scathing river courses through Tyrus’s realm. It boils the flesh off of sinners and runs red with their blood. The river parches dry when it reaches the Perpetual Sands, where those who murdered in life without the sanction of the gods may never quench their thirst. Past the desert, oath breakers and cowards are dragged by their chains to the Furnace of Justice, where they burn forever in an eternal fire. The ashes and smoke are said to form the great cape Tyrus wears around his shoulders.

  The dark melody grows louder and quickens to the rhythm of my pounding heartbeat. My realm is just as beautiful as Elara’s, the masculine voice whispers. You could withstand my river. I would build you a barge of gold. I would shower you with water in my desert. The flames in my furnace would not burn your skin. They would bathe you in divine heat.

  My stomach quivers. Would Tyrus really keep me safe? He protected me when the ceiling shattered. I wasn’t crushed. I didn’t fall off the bridge either. My feet glide forward and bring me closer to the glittering dust. But what if he’s lying? I stretch out my hand. An unshakable desire urges me to find out.

  “Ailesse! Ailesse!” The words are nonsensical. They don’t sing the language of the gods. I can’t either, but I may learn.

  My lashes bat slowly as I gaze past the dust into the blackness beyond. A hot breeze wafts to me from within and stirs the ends of my hair.

  I take another step, lured to the dark call of Tyrus.

  47

  Bastien

  “AILESSE!” I SHOUT AGAIN. MY heart pounds out of my chest. I stare down at her from the large rift I’ve blasted open. She’s over a hundred feet below me and dangerously close to the swirling dust door. A few more steps and she’ll be on the other side. “Get back, please!” She won’t look at me. Can she even hear me? The song in her head must have grown too loud.

  A strange breeze ripples through her hair and dress. She drifts another step toward the entrance to the Underworld. What will happen if she crosses through? Will she die?

  I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to do. There isn’t enough time for me to race down all the stairs and save her. “Ailesse, think! If you go in there, you can’t ever come back.” If none of the Chained can, that much has to be true. “You won’t see your famille ever again or your mother or your friend Sabine.” My voice cracks. “You won’t see me.”

  She freezes. I can’t make out her expression, but her head turns, like she’s trying to reorient herself. Finally, her face lifts to me. I drop to my knees and lean over the rift. “Stay with me. Don’t look at the Gate again. Step away from it, and shut out the music. It’s meant for the dead. You’re not one of them.”

  She’s still for a long moment. Then her hand covers her mouth. She quickly backtracks from the Gate.

  The tension in my muscles releases. “Stay there!” I jump up to run for the hatch. But once I’m on my feet, I see a woman racing toward me.

  Her speed is unnatural. One of the dead, I think. But I can’t see the dead. I catch sight of her crown of bones. Odiva. My fingers flinch at the hilt of my father’s knife. It’s not too late to avenge him.

  But could Ailesse forgive me?

  “What is happening?” Odiva glances at the destroyed earth. “Chazoure is flooding here from everywhere.”

  “Chazoure?” I repeat.

  “I followed the dead, you impudent boy,” she snaps. “Ailesse—where is she?” Before I can answer, Odiva pushes me aside and stares down into the blasted rift. “A second soul bridge,” she gasps.

  I look with her and suck in a sharp breath. Ailesse is spinning and kicking at the air. Merde. Another Chai
ned.

  I can’t think about revenge right now. I bolt for the hatch.

  When I’m eight feet away, I collide with an invisible force. A man’s voice growls and hurls me aside. I grunt as I hit the ground. His footsteps race toward the rift.

  Odiva’s black eyes narrow on me. A cunning grin spreads across her face.

  What game is she playing? I spring to my feet and whip out my knife. “Aren’t you going to help?” I run after the soul, blindly slashing the air. “He’s going to jump through the rift.”

  “They are going to jump, you mean.”

  “Ailesse can’t ferry three Chained at once!”

  “Any Ferrier worth her bones can.”

  I keep attacking and striking nothing, racing toward her along the edge of the rift. I’m about to rush past when her hand flashes out and grabs my wrist. She yanks me close. The knife in my hand shakes as I try to pull away. Her grip is too strong.

  “You can stop writhing about, Bastien,” she says coolly. “All the Chained are with her now.”

  I look down through the rift. Ailesse moves twice as fast as before. The skirt of her green dress flares as she whirls, punches, and kicks. Nothing breaks her concentration, not even the lure of the Underworld.

  Odiva drags me an inch closer. Her breath heats my face. “Do you love my daughter?”

  My jaw locks. I’m sure about my feelings for Ailesse, but I don’t know how Odiva will react. “Yes.”

  “And she loves you?”

  I swallow. “Yes. She doesn’t want to kill me anymore.”

  The corner of Odiva’s lip curls. “She won’t have a choice in the end.”

  Ailesse does have a choice. So do I. I’ve chosen her. Together, we’ll find a way to survive the curse of our soul-bond. I broaden my chest. “Let me go. Let us have this year.”

  Odiva doesn’t reply. She glances down at the rift again, and her raven brow arches. “She ferried them.”

  I look to see for myself.

  Ailesse is standing still in the middle of the bridge, her body turned from the Gate of dust.

  I blow out a sigh, but my relief comes too soon. Ailesse glances over her shoulder. And revolves. She faces the Gate.

  No, no, no.

  “Ailesse!” I shout. “Don’t listen to the song!”

  Odiva’s mouth parts in shock. “No, Tyrus,” she says under her breath. “Not like this.”

  Ailesse starts slipping toward the Gate. I desperately struggle against Odiva. “Ailesse, look at me! Please! Remember what I told you—you don’t belong with the dead.”

  “She won’t heed you,” Odiva says. “The call of the Underworld is too powerful. If she had completed her rite of passage, she would have learned to resist what she desires.”

  My throat closes. I can’t draw any air. I have to get away from Odiva. I might still have a chance to reach Ailesse in time. I’ll pull her back from the Gate myself.

  “Let me go, Bone Crier,” I sneer. “We both know you won’t kill me.”

  Odiva gives me a thin smile. “You forget I have the graces of five deadly creatures. I am devious, as well as resourceful.” My pulse races as her eyes lower to my father’s knife, then lift back to me. “The question is how much should I value your life?”

  48

  Ailesse

  THE WHIRLING BLACK HOLDS ME in a tight embrace. Every inch of my skin prickles with heat. It’s more wonderful than anything I’ve ever felt, even being wrapped in Bastien’s arms.

  I’m twenty feet away from the Gate of dust. I shake as I slip another five feet closer. I need to stop. I shouldn’t go to the Underworld. It would mean my death.

  Another rush of heat shivers through me. I close my eyes. I never want this feeling to end. The pull from the Underworld lifts me to my toes and makes them step forward. When I look again, I’m ten feet away. So close . . .

  Too close.

  I grit my teeth. Clench the ground with my feet. Tyrus’s siren song throbs through all my muscles and bones. “I’m not as weak as you think,” I tell him.

  A drumbeat joins the music and pounds faster and faster. My pulse dances with it. All my nerve endings tingle. The song blares, races. I want it louder, blazing.

  My chest lurches forward. I trip seven steps closer to the Gate. I’m three feet away now.

  “No!” I hold my muscles rigid. “I don’t want to die.”

  The lure builds into a fierce riptide no grace bone can give me strength to resist.

  You have done enough, Ailesse, Tyrus sings without words, but my soul understands. Come where your talent will be honored, where I will appreciate your Light.

  Ailesse, I need you! The sound of another voice startles me. It’s beautiful and rich. Somehow I know it.

  I glance at Elara’s sheer and silvery Gate—just to the right of Tyrus’s Gate—but when the voice calls again, it doesn’t resonate from within her realm.

  You have always wanted to be a Ferrier. Do not disappoint me!

  It’s coming from behind me. I start to look when Tyrus asks, Is ferrying what you truly desired all your life? Or did you only wish to ascend the soul bridge to come closer to my kingdom? Now you can touch it for yourself. You can live here, Ailesse.

  Turn around!

  Let go and come to me.

  Tears of exertion blur my eyes. I’m torn between staying and going. The force of Tyrus’s power channels into every space of my body. He wants me more. He can have me.

  My head tips back in surrender.

  I let go.

  Something grips my arm. I can’t move. The black dust has nearly enveloped me, but I’m held back. My blood burns. I’ll kill whoever is—

  I’m spun around. I’m staring into wide chazoure eyes. A girl without chains. “The boy says you don’t belong there.” Her voice is different from the others in my head. “And the beautiful lady says she can’t fight all the Chained without you.”

  My brow furrows. Only some of her words make sense. I look past her.

  In the middle of the soul bridge, someone in a midnight-blue dress and wearing majestic grace bones twirls and lashes, fighting four Chained at once. I gasp. “Mother!”

  She can’t look at me with all the dead surrounding her and more coming, but the tense line of her shoulders eases. “Take this one, Ailesse!” she calls. She strikes the flat of her palm into the man in front of her. He’s thrown right at me. My mother’s aim is exact.

  Fierce instinct takes hold of me. Tyrus’s siren song breaks. The Unchained girl lets go and passes through Elara’s Gate. I rush toward the dead man.

  I kick out his legs before he lands. He crashes to his knees. I haul him up and drive him backward to the Gate with unrelenting blows. I even gouge his eyes. He doesn’t have a chance to fight back. My mother is here. I grin, even as the dead man curses me. She came to help. She didn’t allow me to die. She cares about me.

  Warmth radiates through my chest. All my life I’ve dreamed of ferrying beside her, working together in perfect unison. That moment is here. Part of me wants the world to stand still so I can drink it in. But the stronger part—the part of me that’s really my mother’s daughter—won’t stop to be sentimental. I fight the dead harder than ever.

  I grab the man by the back of his chazoure tunic. I’m near the vortex of black dust now. I have to be quick. The Chained thrashes like a wildcat, but my grip is as strong as my tiger shark’s jaws. I don’t let go until I hurl him through the Gate. He cries out as the dust cloaks him from sight.

  I hover nearby, staring at the spinning darkness. Tyrus’s siren song returns and pounds through my head. It’s not too late, Ailesse. Come to me. I will not punish you. I will share my bounty.

  I square my jaw. I won’t listen.

  I run the other way. Too many souls swarm the ledge and bridge. They spider-crawl through the rift above and drop from the mine shaft. I rapidly scan the cavern for Bastien, but I can’t see anything beyond streaks of chazoure.

  Ten feet later, two more
Chained confront me. I smirk and motion them forward. I attack with more vigor, but I still don’t match my mother’s talent. She’s fighting five souls now. She doesn’t even have a staff. My nostrils flare.

  I hurriedly draw the two Chained backward to the Gate. One of them lunges at me. I strike his chest with the heel of my foot. The other barrels forward, and I sidestep him, jabbing his back with my elbow. My ibex agility keeps me balanced on the narrow bridge.

  I turn to fight the first Chained, but he cuffs me hard in the jaw. I stumble backward, barely dodging a blow from the second one. I tighten my fists and attack faster, using every measure of my falcon speed. Once I have the advantage, I grab both souls by their chains and heave them through the Gate.

  “Send more!” I shout to my mother.

  She tosses me another Chained. A robust woman who immediately throws a punch at my face. I duck and ram into her stomach with my shoulder. With a sharp twist, I yank her around. She growls, thrashing as I drive her backward toward the Gate. I kick her off me and shove her into the black dust.

  As soon as she’s through, I bolt away to fight another Chained my mother thrusts at me. We ferry on and on like this until our movements become one fluid rhythm.

  My chest burns with pride. She can’t doubt my ability now. She must see how I’ll be a worthy matrone.

  The souls that are Unchained dart past us and run to the call of Elara’s realm. Some are threatened by the Chained, but my mother and I help them break free.

  I lose count of how many dead we ferry. A Ferrier’s work can last until sunrise, if necessary. During the age of the plague, when death was rampant, my famille needed as much of that time as possible. But my mother and I must be nearly finished. The number of dead are starting to thin.

  I throw another Chained through the Gate and look above me to the rift Bastien blasted open. I shout his name, but don’t hear anything back. My pulse beats out of time. Where is he?

  My mother glances my way while she fights three Chained. My falcon vision narrows on the twitch of her brow. A sign of guilt? Did she find Bastien before he could return to me? I fight to breathe. “Bastien!” I cry again.