Suddenly the pieces fall into place. I saw her in the bone reading; she was my roommate on my other path as well. Chills race up my arms. What are the chances I’d end up sharing a room with the exact same person? Unless we were fated to meet no matter which path survived?
She must notice a change in my expression, because her eyes go soft. “Are you feeling ill? Norah said that sometimes Bone Charmers have a harder time adjusting than the rest of us. It sounds miserable, but I could probably help if you aren’t feeling well. I could do a spell for nausea if you need it.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine,” I say, though it’s a lie. The nightmare—or was it a bone reading?—flits at the edges of my thoughts and it’s all I can do to keep the panic at bay. I pop the berry into my mouth and chew slowly. “You don’t have a roommate already?”
“No,” she says, drawing out the word so it sounds both humorous and annoyed. “There were uneven numbers, so I was assigned a solo room. But it’s been so dull all by myself—not to mention lonely—and I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.” Her hand folds around my ankle.
Normally, I would find her chattiness grating, but a wave of affection washes over me that I can’t explain. She feels like an old friend, lost and then found again.
I keep eating while Tessa talks. She tells me all about how her first term went, how she’s finally feeling more confident in her abilities, how she can’t wait until she can introduce me to her friends.
“I want to know all about you, too,” she says after several minutes, “but it will have to wait until later. Norah wants to see you in the great hall”—she motions toward the food—“as soon as you’re finished eating, of course.”
The great hall. That can only mean one thing: a binding ceremony. My appetite vanishes and I push the tray away.
“I’m done,” I tell her. “Let’s get this over with.”
Norah hasn’t asked me about the details of my kenning. Including which of the three Sights my reading showed.
I can tell her anything I want.
Tessa and I walk down the corridor toward the great hall. As she fills me in on what to expect during the ceremony, I think of my father’s lessons in strategy. Should I say I have Third Sight? Assuming Norah has hired another instructor to replace Latham, they would presumably be using his old office. Latham might have left behind clues there that could help locate him.
Then again, I could say I have First Sight. Maybe focusing more heavily in reading the past would help me determine his plan in more detail.
And not choosing Second Sight might be protective—if I’m bound to the same Sight as either my mother or Gran, will Latham really acquire the bones of all three Sights by killing me?
The large doors of the great hall come into view, and an image rises in my mind. A huge rectangular room bathed in sunlight. Soaring ceilings supported by massive bone columns. Hundreds of folded cloaks resting beside stone basins. A shiver tingles down my spine. It’s as if a ghost has sidled up beside me to whisper secrets into my ear. Memories of things that never happened to me but would have if I’d been on a different path. If Gran’s bone had never broken.
But when Tessa opens the door, the scene before me looks nothing like the one in my memory.
The day is overcast, and so the stained-glass windows aren’t flooded with light and color. No rows of long tables. No stacks of colorful cloaks. No grandeur at all.
And the room is empty.
“Oh no,” Tessa says, “you had more time to eat and I rushed you. I’m sorry.”
I laugh at the sincere look of regret in her eyes and take her fingers in mine. “You’re a good friend, Tessa.”
Her eyebrows disappear into her hairline, and it takes me a moment to realize my mistake. We’ve only just met, and my response was far too familiar. I let go of her hand and my cheeks flame.
She studies me with a perplexed expression, and I scramble for some way to explain. “I’m sorry, I—”
The door at the far side of the great hall swings open. But it’s not Norah who enters the room. It’s Bram. My heart leaps at the sight of him, and a wave of confusion slams into me. My hands twitch at my sides as he approaches, and I resist the urge to reach up and sweep aside the lock of chestnut hair that has fallen across his forehead. It’s as if my body is a stranger, responding to things I don’t remember. What my heart should be feeling is panic. Bram knows enough to ruin my life. He knows my mother had Gran’s bones illegally prepared for my kenning. He’s seen me use unbound magic. And now he’s here at my binding ceremony, where I will make promises that turn me into a hypocrite. The realization is like soap drizzling into my eyes during a bath. A moment ago, I was fine, but now Bram’s presence is uncomfortable. Irritating.
He vowed to keep my secret, but will he?
“Hello,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“The binding ceremony requires witnesses,” Bram says. The wine-red shirt he wears brings out a hint of ruddiness in his complexion. “Norah asked me to attend.” She could have chosen anyone for a witness. Why Bram? “She thought you might appreciate a familiar face,” he says, as if I’ve spoken my concerns aloud.
I’m startled by a sudden, upsetting impulse to embrace him. I think of the tattoo around my wrist that I’m hoping will fade. About the way he laughed when I confessed we were matched on my other path.
“Oh.” I infuse my voice with indifference, as if his presence is no more significant than one of the Poulsen twins showing up to my binding. We’re from the same town, that’s all. “Well, then, thank you for coming.” Bram starts to say something more, but he’s interrupted by the door opening again. Norah enters carrying a stone basin loaded with supplies. On top is a neatly folded wool cloak. She’s accompanied by a Bone Charmer—just one—dressed in red silk robes.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Norah says. She dips her head toward the woman beside her. “This is Kyra. She’s our Second Sight Charming Master. Kyra, this is Saskia.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” I say. Kyra’s skin is warm brown, and her black hair is braided and twisted into a bun at the back of her head. Her face is unlined and has an ageless quality.
She takes my outstretched hand in hers. “The pleasure is mine. It will be refreshing to have an apprentice for the upcoming term. I look forward to working with you.”
I turn back toward Norah. “But I don’t understand. I never told you I was matched with Second Sight.”
A look of alarm flits across Norah’s expression. “Was I wrong? Were you matched with another Sight?”
I swallow. There’s no good way to handle this. I wasn’t matched as a Bone Charmer, so Norah couldn’t have access to the results of a reading that gave me Second Sight when one doesn’t exist. But on my other path, my mother did match me with Second Sight. So what if Norah somehow knows that’s my fate?
“You weren’t wrong,” I say, finally. “I just wondered how you knew.”
She and Kyra share a look. “We have reason to believe Latham might have been targeting your family based on you having Second Sight.” She clears her throat. “It’s rather unusual to have three generations of Bone Charmers, and even more rare that they each have a different Sight.”
This time it’s me and Bram who share a significant glance. Back in Midwood, he promised to help me stop Latham, and his eyes spark with interest at Norah’s declaration.
But it’s reassuring that Norah knows some of what Latham was after. Maybe the Grand Council will be successful in finding and stopping him.
“Shall we get started?”
Norah goes to the small wooden table in the center of the room and places the basin on top. Inside is a collection of bones.
My palms begin to sweat as I think of what my mother told me about the binding ceremony. That it involves apprentices agreeing to confine their magic to one specific area. It’s like pruning a garden. The magic is directed and confined. And eventually the potential in other a
reas withers and dies. And the nurtured magic grows stronger.
But I don’t want to lose my ability to see into the past or the future.
My mastery tattoo isn’t the one I’m trying to lose.
Kyra takes out a piece of flint and a small sharp needle. She reaches for my hand and cradles it in hers.
“Saskia Holte, you have been chosen as a Bone Charmer with the Second Sight.” And the First and the Third, too, I say in my own mind. “Today you will bind yourself to this magic as it has bound itself to you.”
She reaches for my hand and pricks my index finger with the needle. “In front of you are the bones of Charmers who have come before. Do you witness with your blood that you will honor their legacy?”
“Yes,” I say, tipping my finger to allow a single drop to fall into the basin.
“Do you vow to use your gifts for the benefit of others and not for personal gain?”
I hesitate. Will using bone magic to plot revenge against Latham be breaking this promise? But seeking justice isn’t selfish. I won’t be doing it just for myself. I’m doing it for my mother. For Gran. For everyone else Latham has hurt, and will hurt in the future if he isn’t stopped.
“Yes, I do.” I let another drop fall on the bones.
“Do you vow to help your fellow citizens find happiness, while matching their talents to the needs of the country?”
“Yes.” A third drop of blood spills into the basin.
“Do you promise to follow every tenet of your training, to uphold the values that you learn within these walls, and to use your magic for good?”
“Yes.” I squeeze my finger to force another drop to fall, while saying my own words silently: I vow to use all three Sights to seek justice.
Master Kyra sets the bones on fire. She pulls a pouch from her pocket and sprinkles its contents over the basin. The flames turn a vibrant blue and shoot high into the air.
“Saskia Holte,” Kyra says, “you have been bound to this magic and you are now authorized to don the training cloak.”
As I wrap the red fabric around my shoulders, I can only hope my silent additions to the binding ceremony keep all three Sights intact.
I need every advantage I can get if I have any hope of finding my mother’s bones before Latham uses them to control the future.
“You must be hungry. You hardly ate earlier,” Tessa says as we walk away from the great hall. “We should probably get you something to eat.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up my throat. Tessa hasn’t stopped trying to feed me since we met.
“What’s so funny?” The register of her voice elevates just a fraction, and I realize I’ve hurt her feelings.
“Nothing,” I say. “I was just thinking that it’s so obvious you’re an oldest child.”
Tessa’s eyes go wide with astonishment. She stops walking and spins to face me. “How did you know that?”
My stomach squirms uncomfortably. The truth is, I’m not sure how I know. But I do. It’s the same way I know my father loved the scent of woodsmoke—a thing I never remember actually learning, but the knowledge is written on my heart just the same.
“Well, you’ve done nothing but try to take care of me since I got here.” I gently bump her hip with mine. “It’s clear you’ve had practice.”
A series of images flash through my mind: Tessa’s cool knuckles resting against my forehead; Tessa kneeling in the grass beside Bram as she performs a healing spell to take away his pain; Tessa sliding a tray of food onto my lap, her brow furrowed in concern.
The tips of her ears turn pink. “Am I that transparent?”
My chest suddenly feels tight with emotion. I touch her wrist lightly. “Yes, but in the best way possible. You must be an incredible Healer. And for the record, you’re right. I’m starving.”
We round the corner into the dining hall, which is a cacophony of noise and color. Servers circulate with platters of fragrant meat and fluffy bread. “I want you to meet everyone,” Tessa says, taking my elbow and guiding me to a table at the far side of the room, where a group of half a dozen apprentices are already deep in lively conversation.
“This is Jacey,” Tessa says, pointing to a girl dressed in a purple robe. Her skin is golden brown, and her heart-shaped face is framed by a tumble of dark curls. “She’s a Mixer.”
Jacey gives me a small wave, and Tessa turns toward the rest of the table, making a series of rapid introductions that fly by so quickly, I’m sure I’ll never remember them all. I search my memory of my reading of Gran’s bone, but none of these names or faces are familiar.
The more time I spend here, the more my mind is flooded with images from another life. I remember a boy with auburn hair, pale skin, and a sprinkle of cinnamon freckles. A Breaker girl with raven locks and a penchant for snark. But neither of them are here.
This morning, when I realized that Tessa and I were roommates on my other path, I assumed her other friends would be the same as well. But they’re all different. How is it possible that Gran’s bone breaking changed Tessa’s entire group of friends? The thought gnaws at me all through the meal. Were none of us fated to be close? Was the vision I saw wrong? Are the others even here?
A wave of homesickness washes over me. I wish I could talk to Ami and get her advice.
“Saskia.” Tessa’s voice pulls me back to the present. Her tone makes it clear this wasn’t the first time she’s said my name.
“I’m sorry,” I say, “what was that?”
“Jacey asked how your binding ceremony went.”
I shift my focus to Jacey, who is studying me with an eager expression. “I’m just trying to imagine all that pageantry for one person. Was it awkward?”
I shake my head. “My ceremony was nothing like yours. No tables full of cloaks. No learning about the meaning of the stained-glass windows or the history of the Grand Council. We pretty much just skipped right to the binding.”
“Wow, Tessa really filled you in on every detail.” She smiles and nudges Tessa’s ribs with her elbow. “That sounds nothing like her. She’s usually so quiet.” Jacey’s tone is full of gentle sarcasm. No one who has spent more than a moment with Tessa would ever sincerely describe her as quiet.
Tessa gives Jacey a playful glare. “For your information, I didn’t have time to tell her anything about our binding. So I must not be the only talkative one around here.”
I flinch at my mistake. I keep losing track of what I should know and what I only know from my other path. I fiddle with the napkin in my lap, flicking the corner between my thumb and forefinger. “My mother attended Ivory Hall, so I had some idea of what to expect.”
Tessa shakes a basket of bread in front of me. “Do you want more?” I grin and raise my eyebrows. Crimson floods her cheeks. “I really do keep trying to feed you, don’t I?”
“Yes.” I snatch a chunk of bread from the top of the heap. “But it’s endearing.”
Jacey offers me a plate with tiny roses carved of butter. “Was your mother a Charmer too?”
A lump forms in my throat. “She was.” I look away to discourage further questions.
The conversation shifts to the upcoming bone games. By now I’ve figured out they’re a series of challenges during second term, but most of the information about them is rooted in speculation and rumor. I’m just grateful we’re not talking about my mother anymore. It’s a wound too raw to bear prodding.
Chapter Four
The rest of the day is a whirlwind. Norah takes me on a tour of Ivory Hall—from the grounds of rolling hills and colorful autumn trees, down to the brightly lit workshop in the basement, and finally to the training wing, where she announces that my first session with Master Kyra will be tonight. I had hoped for more time to settle in—one day, at least—but Norah remains insistent.
“You’re months behind the others,” she says. “I’m afraid you’ll need many extra hours of practice to catch up before the bone games.”
I start to ask what she
means by bone games, but she’s already walking away.
Now I stifle a yawn as I sit at a circular table opposite Master Kyra. Several small animal bones are scattered on a cloth in front of me.
“I’m holding a small object in my left palm,” Kyra says. “I’d like you to attempt to divine what it is.”
She lights a bundle of incense, and the smoke curls around us in lazy circles. When the sharp scent of sage hits my nose, memories of my mother rise in my mind—her sitting in front of a stone basin performing readings for the townsfolk, the soothing certainty in the cadence of her voice, the delicate beauty of her hands wielding small needles and pieces of flint. My throat aches. I squeeze my eyes closed.
“Saskia?” Master Kyra’s voice is tinged with worry. “Is something wrong?”
I shake my head. My grief feels too raw to share. Too personal. “I’m fine.”
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
I touch a single finger to one of the bones, anxious to end the conversation. “You’re holding a coin,” I tell her. “A silver one.”
Her sharp intake of breath closes a fist of fear around my throat. Too late, I realize that she expected the task to be far more difficult. My heart hammers beneath my rib cage. The mastery tattoo hidden under my sleeve suddenly feels as if it’s on fire.
Master Kyra opens her palm to reveal a small silver coin. “Are you sure you’ve never attempted a reading before?” Her tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent of suspicion beneath her words that makes me feel as if I’m on trial. I try to remember how long it took on my other path to gain a level of skill for these kinds of simple tasks, but the reading of Gran’s healed bone wasn’t clear enough to give me every detail.
“Maybe it’s beginner’s luck?” My voice comes out strained.
Kyra frowns. “Unlikely. In my experience, luck and magic don’t usually join hands.”
I feel like a rabbit caught in the sudden bright beam of a hunter’s lantern. Trapped. Exposed. I need to say something to erase the wariness from her expression.
The Bone Thief Page 3