I am drowning in him.
But then understanding slams into me like a blow to the stomach. For a moment I had forgotten our ruse. And yet I gave him permission to kiss me. I wanted him to. I long to curl up inside myself and disappear. To love someone who doesn’t love you back is an aching thing.
I should pull away, but I don’t.
Reality and fantasy melt together, and before I know it, I’m kissing him back. My fingers tunnel through his hair. I let myself imagine I’m the Saskia on my other path, and I pour all of my heartache and longing into the space between us.
And then Bram is yanked away from me. Cold rushes through my body, and I open my eyes to find Rasmus, his face twisted with rage.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he shouts. I could ask myself the same question. I try to formulate an answer, but I’m distracted by the vein bulging at his temple. And the stunned expression on Bram’s face, two fingers pressed to his lips as if he’s not sure what just happened.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” He shoves my training cloak into my arms. “Put that on, and get back to the inn. Now.”
I take off Bram’s cloak and give it back to him. Rasmus glowers at me as I wrap my own around my shoulders. It’s ice cold, as if he’s been wandering through the streets with it for hours.
“I really am sorry—”
He clenches his jaw and gives me a look so severe that I snap my mouth closed.
Bram and I walk in silence, the shadow of Rasmus looming behind us like a threat. Usually, his steps are muffled, but tonight each footfall lands with a thud. I’ve never seen him so angry.
My feelings are a tangle inside me. I’m not sure what I expected—I knew Rasmus would be angry, but I wasn’t counting on him to look so betrayed. Guilt stabs through me like invisible blades.
And I certainly wasn’t counting on Avalina to force me to see Latham from a different angle. I thought if we found her, she’d either be his match or his opposite—someone as evil as him, or an innocent victim of his schemes who would be as eager for revenge as I am. I didn’t think it was possible that she could make me understand him better. Or at least understand the boy he used to be.
And then there’s the dizzying memory of that kiss.
We reach the courtyard of the inn. The cobblestones are bathed in soft pools of yellow lamplight. In the distance I hear the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore.
I stop at the entrance and turn to face Rasmus. “What now?”
“Now you go to your room and stay there until morning.”
It’s not what I’m asking, and he knows it. I tilt my head and fold my arms across my chest while I wait for a better answer.
“What I should do is escort you directly back to Ivory Hall, where you can explain yourself to Norah.” He turns to Bram. “And you too. As a Breaker, you should know better than to disappear with a bodyguard’s principal.”
Bram drops his chin, looking thoroughly chastened.
“Please don’t send us back,” I say. “I promise it won’t happen again.” Rasmus lets out a long sigh, and I see some of the frustration leach out of his expression. I touch his forearm. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”
He looks affronted. “I’m a Bone Breaker and a member of the Ivory Guard. I don’t get frightened.”
I let out a soft laugh and then clap my hand over my lips. Mocking him right now is probably not my smartest move. “Well, I do get frightened, and you scared me nearly to death back there. One minute I’m kissing Bram and the next I’m staring at your grumpy face.” I keep my voice light, teasing.
The corner of Rasmus’s mouth twitches. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of my grumpy face if you ever pull a stunt like that again.”
I put my hand over my heart. “I swear never to kiss anyone outside your presence ever again.”
He snorts. “Let’s not go to extremes.”
“So you won’t tattle on us?”
“I’ve tried hard not to interfere in your training or your friendships since we left Kastelia City. But this crossed a line.”
“I know, I—”
He holds up a hand to stop me and I press my lips together. “You get one free pass. One. If anything like this happens ever again, I won’t have any choice but to report you to the Grand Council.” His expression softens just a fraction. “I’m here to keep you safe, not to restrict your freedom.”
I strain to keep my face from showing that, at the moment, those feel like the same thing. I must succeed, because Rasmus gives a sharp dip of his head and then pulls open the inn door. Bram and I share a look behind his back. Bram’s expression is part relief, and part something else that I can’t name. There’s a question in his eyes I don’t want to answer.
We climb the stairs and at my door, Bram hesitates. “Saskia—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Rasmus says, giving Bram a little shove toward the boys’ room. “I’ll see both of you in the morning.”
The Fortress is perched on a peak overlooking Leiden. Its gray stone and rounded towers stand in sharp contrast to the movement and color of the glass in the town below. My legs ache as we climb the rough, uneven staircase set into the hillside. The morning is bracingly cold, and my breath precedes me, billowing from my mouth with each labored breath.
Bram hikes wordlessly at my side. A pressure builds between us that feels thick enough to touch. Talon and Tessa are in the front of the pack, talking animatedly about what kind of challenge might be waiting for us today. Tessa keeps throwing glances over her shoulder. We haven’t had a private moment to talk since Bram and I snuck out of the glassblowers’ workshop, and I know she’s anxious to hear about what happened with Avalina. Jacey and Niklas walk several paces behind, and though I can hear the low rumble of voices, their conversation is too quiet to make out. Rasmus follows closer than usual, as if making a point to remind me of his presence.
Finally we reach the top of the hill. The Fortress is protected by an elaborate gate with rails that look like delicate thorn-studded vines, each stretching upward until it curls into a spiral at the top. I would assume the gate was made from wrought iron if not for its pale color. Such elegant beauty seems completely out of place in front of this severe structure.
I reach out to stroke one of the vines, when a throat clears behind me. I yank my hand back and turn to see a Watcher, who seemingly appeared from nowhere. Her hair is completely gray and hangs in a long braid behind her back.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” she says. “The thorns are filled with poison.”
I take a step back and shove my hands into the pockets of my cloak.
“Whoa,” Talon says beneath his breath. “That’s one way to ruin a day.”
“Welcome to the Fortress,” the Watcher says, spreading her arms wide, as if we’ve arrived for a garden party. “I hope you came prepared.” The words are tinged with a warning—maybe even a hint of menace—and our team exchanges nervous glances. How can we prepare when we have no idea what to expect?
The Watcher makes a circle in the air with her hand, and the gate swings open. We follow her toward the front of the Fortress, but before we reach the entrance, she makes a sharp turn to the right and leads us to a steep, narrow stairwell that plunges so low, it could only lead to the dungeon level.
At the top of the steps, she turns to Rasmus. “Stay here. You won’t be accompanying the apprentices below.”
Normally, I would welcome the break from Rasmus’s watchful gaze, but the look of alarm that crosses his expression sends a chill through me.
“You’ve cleared this with Norah?” Rasmus asks.
The Watcher gives a harsh laugh. “My post, my decision. But yes, she knows.” Rasmus’s hands curl into fists at his sides, but he takes a step back.
She gives him a curt nod, then turns to the six of us. “Follow me.”
We descend the staircase in a single-file line. At the bottom
, the Watcher opens the door and moves aside to let us enter. Once we’ve all stepped over the threshold, she starts to close the door.
“Wait,” Tessa says. “What are we supposed to do?”
The Watcher gives a wolfish grin. “Simple,” she says. “You’re supposed to escape.”
With that she slams the door closed.
And locks us in.
Chapter Sixteen
It takes several moments for my eyes to adjust to the dark room, but slowly shapes emerge, and I’m able to take stock of my surroundings. The room is tiny and overly warm. The walls appear to be made of metal. In the center of the room on top of a small table are three baskets filled with bones.
Jacey smacks the door with the palm of her hand. “Open up! Let us out!” For the first time, I notice that the door is completely smooth. It’s missing a handle on this side. “We have to get out of here.” Her voice verges on panic. She pounds on the door with both of her fists, and then tries to wedge her fingers into the seam to pry it open.
Tessa lays a hand on Jacey’s back. “We’ll get out,” she says, her voice low and soothing. “We just need to stay calm and figure out what the challenge is.”
Jacey’s breath is coming in short gasps. She’s usually so unruffled.
“I don’t do well in enclosed spaces,” Jacey says, answering our unspoken questions.
“Let’s sit down for a bit,” Tessa says, guiding Jacey to a spot against the wall. “Just close your eyes and breathe with me.”
I think of my father holding my face between his palms when I was scared. Deep breaths, bluebird. A wave of affection washes over me—for both my father and for Tessa. She’s a natural Healer.
“If this is anything like the last challenge, we’re probably going to need to work together.” I touch Tessa’s shoulder lightly. “But for now, you take care of Jacey, and the rest of us will start working on how to get out of here.”
I join Bram, Niklas, and Talon in the center of the room.
“Where should we start?” I ask.
“Let’s find out what kind of bones we have to work with,” Bram says, pulling one of the baskets close.
We rifle through the contents, but they’re just ordinary human bones—not prepared for magic.
“Are we supposed to assemble a skeleton?” Niklas asks. “Like we do in bone races?”
I rub my forehead. “That would make sense if there were more variety, but without long bones or skulls, there’s nothing to assemble.”
Talon mops his brow with his sleeve. “If the goal is to get out of here, maybe we should look for another door.”
Niklas leans his forearms against the table. “I doubt it’s going to be that simple.”
“Or maybe it will be,” Talon counters. “Maybe it’s like a riddle where the most obvious answer is the correct one.”
“Let’s just start with a general exploration of the room,” Bram says. “Each of us can take a quadrant and look for clues.”
“Or doors,” Talon says.
Bram laughs. “Or doors.”
The four of us peel apart. I head for the far side of the room, but Bram spins in the same direction. Our shoulders collide in the small space.
“Oof.” He reaches an arm out to steady me. “Sorry. I thought you were going over there.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I don’t quite meet his eyes.
Talon looks back and forth between us. “What’s with you two?”
“Nothing,” Bram and I answer at the same time.
But Talon doesn’t let it go. “Lover’s quarrel? You better patch things up quickly; we don’t have time for fighting.”
The tips of Bram’s ears turn scarlet, and he mumbles something before turning and heading in the opposite direction.
The room seems even warmer than when we entered, and I’m not sure if it’s my discomfort or if the temperature has actually increased.
I run my palms along the smooth metal of the wall farthest from the entrance, searching for anything that might indicate an escape route. No luck.
I crouch down and my eye catches something—a series of indentations on the floor that look much like the thumbprint locks I’ve seen on some of the doors at Ivory Hall.
“I think I found something.”
Bram, Talon, and Niklas rush to my side. Their upper lips are both beaded with sweat. The room is getting warmer. And smaller, too. Are the walls closing in?
“Is it a door?” Talon asks.
I move to one side and point to the row of depressions. “No, but it could be a lock to one.”
Bram runs his fingers along the wall. “There’s a seam here. I think Saskia is right. The lock must open this wall.”
Niklas crouches down too. “Maybe it works like the puzzle box. Should we all try it together?”
“But there are seven spots and only six of us,” Bram says.
My heart sinks. He’s right. “Do you think Rasmus was meant to be here after all?”
“I hope not.”
Tessa comes up from behind. “What did you find?” She has one arm around Jacey’s waist. Jacey’s breath is shallow and she looks green around the mouth.
“We’re not sure yet,” Talon says, then turns to Jacey. “Feeling any better?”
Jacey nods. “A little. I’ll be fine once we’re out of here.”
“Then let’s get out of here.” He leans down and presses his thumb into one of the indentations and we each do the same. Nothing happens.
“Maybe one of us needs both hands?” Niklas says.
Bram lifts the hem of his shirt and wipes the sweat from his face. “But that doesn’t make sense. It seems like they’d give us seven spaces for something that can be solved precisely with an answer of seven.”
“No harm in trying,” Talon says. So we do.
We each press our thumbs to one of the depressions in the lock. Nothing happens. We try every permutation we can think of—each of us taking turns providing the seventh thumb, different finger combinations, touching the lock one at a time in order of ascending, then descending age. Soon the metal is slick with our sweat. The room seems smaller than ever, and the air is so thick, it’s difficult to draw a proper breath.
Finally Bram groans. “I really don’t think this is the answer.”
“Neither do I,” Tessa says. “What else do we have?”
I glance toward the table. “Maybe the bones are the key.”
Tessa’s expression lights up. “Do any bones come in sets of seven?”
“The cervical vertebrae,” Bram and I answer at the same moment. Our eyes meet and something sparks between us.
“Yes!” Tessa jumps up and starts passing around the baskets “Everyone, start looking.”
Bram sits next to me on the floor and we dig through the basket together. It’s filled with small bones—phalanges, metatarsals, nasal bones. We avoid touching each other as our fingers dart around the basket, but I fight the urge to catch his hand in mine, to force him to look into my eyes, to ask him all the questions that bubble at the back of my mind. Are you just helping me out of duty? What do you see when you look at me? How could you kiss me like that if you were only pretending?
But if Latham wins, none of it matters. I’ll die whether or not Bram cares about me.
Finally I find a ring-shaped bone—the atlas—and a jolt of triumph goes through me. “Got one.”
Jacey waves her hand in the air. “Me too.”
“Good,” Tessa says, “keep looking.”
We help the others search and find precisely seven cervical vertebrae. A weight lifts off my chest. This is the answer. It has to be.
“That was actually kind of satisfying,” Talon says as we gather the bones and take them to the far wall. I know what he means. I don’t have the sick pit in my stomach I did at Jensen’s trial. Solving a riddle is a relief compared to the last challenge. I place the atlas in the first space. Niklas drops the axis in the second, and then we arrange the bones in descend
ing order just as they would sit in the spine.
But the door stays closed. We’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Closer than we were a few moments ago. A wave a dizziness washes over me.
We try putting the bones in reverse order. Still nothing.
The color drains from Jacey’s face.
Niklas curses and slams the side of the wall with his fist. “I was sure that was it.”
“We all were,” Tessa says. She sinks to the floor. “What now?”
The room is sweltering. Sticky. The thought no sooner goes through my mind, when Jacey takes off her purple cloak.
“It’s hot in here,” she says.
Talon tugs at his collar. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
Tessa and I exchange a look. The increased temperature isn’t an accident. We need to solve this, and soon.
“I still think the bones are the answer,” I say. “They wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Or they’re trying to lead us astray,” Niklas says.
“They don’t want us to fail,” Tessa says, and I wish I shared her optimism. “Is there another way we could use them? There’s nothing here to heal or mix or break. Saskia, maybe you’re supposed to do a reading?”
I shake my head. “The bones aren’t prepared for magic, and besides, they didn’t leave us the appropriate supplies to use them for our specialties.” I don’t have a basin or flint or a cloth. Jacey doesn’t have a mortar and pestle. “There must be another set of bones that make sense in the lock.”
“Maybe seven sets of the same bone?” Bram asks.
We scatter and start searching through baskets. We try seven scaphoids, seven lunates, seven capitates. But nothing works.
My hair is wet and plastered to my forehead. A bead of sweat drips down my spine. The air has only gotten warmer and more stifling.
“We’re going to die in here,” Niklas says dryly.
Tessa shoots him a sharp look and then jerks her head toward Jacey, who sits against the wall, her head between her knees. “Not helpful.”
My shoulders ache. I roll my head slowly from side to side. Then I stretch out my legs and draw an invisible circle in the air with my toes. My ankles crack and I freeze.
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