The Bone Thief

by Breeana Shields

  But I have no idea what it means.

  “I think this is Latham’s shop.” Jacey is spinning in a slow circle, her eyes scanning the shelves.

  At first I think she’s wrong. The spaces couldn’t feel more different. But on closer examination, I realize she’s right. The bookcase has been replaced with an actual door, and the windows are different—they’re bigger, and let in more light—but the room is the right size and shape.

  “So what do we do now?” Niklas asks.

  “We should probably go back to Ivory Hall,” I say. But the thought makes me feel as if I’ve swallowed a stone. I have no idea what will be waiting for us there. Will we be safe? Are we even apprentices in this reality? Yet the moment I have the thought, I’m flooded with new images of the six of us competing in bone races, eating together in the dining hall, studying for exams. And we all still have the gray bands tattooed around our arms that connect us. We belong together on this path too. I’m sure of it.

  “Do you think we’ve been gone a long time?” Tessa asks. “Have we missed the last bone game?” Her expression falters, and I can see her struggling to reconcile the same kind of fuzzy new memories I’ve been grappling with—events that didn’t really happen in the reality we just left, yet the ghost of them lurks in both of our minds because they happened to us here. Tessa frowns.

  “Hopefully there’s still time to find the hikers,” Niklas says. He fidgets with an emerald ring on his index finger. Wasn’t his ring silver before? And what is he talking about?

  Tessa must have the same question because confusion washes over her face. “What hikers?”

  My heart sinks. Something is wrong with Niklas.

  “The third bone game,” Jacey says, “the hikers trapped in the Droimian Mountains? We’re supposed to be figuring out how to rescue them?” She shakes her head. “I swear, I’m the only one who listens in workshop.”

  And then it hits me. We have different memories of the past. Not of the one where we confronted Latham, but of the new past I created.

  “There were no hikers for us,” I tell her. “Our third bone game involved designing a new town hall.”

  Talon’s mouth falls open. “I remember the town hall too.”

  I tried so hard to bring each of them along with me when I healed the bones, but I lost track of them at the end. I succeeded in getting us all together in the present, but we must have arrived here on slightly different paths.

  “So … what’s real?” Tessa asks.

  My eyes automatically find Bram. It’s the same question I’ve been asking myself for months. “It’s all real,” I tell her. “We just remember it differently.”

  She bites her lower lip. “I’m not clear how this works.”

  I take her hand and squeeze her fingers. “I’m not entirely sure either. But there’s only one way to find out. Let’s get out of here and go back to Ivory Hall.”

  I open the door. We step into the adjoining room. And run headlong into an older woman.

  She screams and drops the box in her arms, spilling a cascade of bone-carved harmonicas across the floor. I suck in a sharp, startled breath. I should have been more careful. It hadn’t occurred to me that the shop might be occupied. But it is. It’s a brightly lit music store, just as it was when Latham was a child.

  The woman presses a hand to her chest. “Where in bones’ name did you come from? You frightened me nearly to death.”

  I grab Talon’s arm and shove him toward her. “My friend wants to buy a new flute. He’s been looking for weeks.”

  “Of course,” the woman says, threading her arm through his, our trespassing immediately forgotten. “We have a wide selection of very fine bone flutes. We’ll find you something perfect.”

  As she leads him away, Talon looks over his shoulder and glares at me, but I just smile sweetly back.

  After the scare he gave me, I owed him a little payback.

  Ivory Hall looks just as it always has—gleaming bone floors, elegantly curved staircases, chandeliers dripping with crystal—reassuringly predictable when so much else has changed. But I think how different I’ve been every time I’ve walked through these doors. First as an apprentice. Then as a fraud. And now, if someone could peer into the recesses of my heart, I think they’d find it looked very much like the bone I healed. Oddly shaped by dozens of different paths. Scarred over. Healing from the many times it’s been broken.

  Norah strides into the foyer and gives us a reproachful look. “Where have the six of you been?”

  Seeing her sends a jolt of anger through me. I want to shake her until she goes as limp as a rag doll, to scream at her, to demand to know why she betrayed me. It takes me a moment to rein in my anger. To remind myself that she didn’t. Not on this path. Still, knowing what she’s capable of will change the way I see her forever.

  It’s both the blessing and the curse of being a Bone Charmer. Seeing people for who they really are and for who they could have been in a different life. Knowing the potential for good and evil in all of us.

  “Well,” Norah says. “Care to explain yourselves?”

  Bram rests a palm in the curve of my lower back. “We lost track of time.”

  Behind me, Talon snorts softly. “That’s an understatement.”

  Norah presses her lips into a disapproving line. “You’re late. All of you get to your tutoring sessions. Now.”

  We scurry up the stairs to the training wing, but when we get there, we hesitate before separating. The others look as restless and agitated as I feel.

  Finally it’s Jacey who gives voice to what we’re all thinking. “I’m worried that all of you might disappear if I let you out of my sight.”

  “I feel the same,” Tessa says, and then to me, “Is that possible?”

  “Of course not.” Though even I can hear the doubt that creeps into my voice. The truth is, I don’t know if the past is stable or if the future is secure. I won’t know until I find out what became of Latham in this reality. But Gran used to say that she’d never met a problem that couldn’t be made worse by worry. “Everything will be all right.”

  “But if something does change,” Talon says, “it will probably be that I grow even more handsome.”

  Jacey slugs him on the shoulder. “Unlikely.”

  “True. It’s hard to improve on perfection.”

  Niklas cocks his head to one side and taps his finger against his cheek. “Saskia, is there some bone we can heal that will make him less insufferable?”

  Bram’s hand shoots in the air. “I volunteer to do the breaking.”

  I laugh. “Doubtful. But I kind of like Talon just the way he is.”

  Talon narrows his eyes. “Are you saying nice things just to make me feel guilty for teasing you earlier?”

  “Depends. Is it working?”

  “Yes.”

  I grin. “Then yes.”

  We hear footsteps on the stairway and turn to see Norah glaring at us with fire in her eyes. “Did I not make myself clear?”

  We mumble apologies and reluctantly go our separate ways.

  I find Master Kyra sitting alone in the training room, strumming her fingers on the table.

  I slide into the chair across from her. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Her eyebrows rise just a fraction. “It’s not like you. I assume you had a good reason?”

  I swallow. “Yes. A very good one.”

  She studies me for a moment, but she doesn’t press for details. “All right then. Why don’t we begin by having a look at your mastery tattoo?”

  I go numb with panic. I should have known that it was too good to be true. My troubles are about to follow me from path to path, relentless.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” I say softly. Ami warned me that my instructor might ask to see my tattoo as a way to gauge my progress. Whether I show her or refuse, she’ll know something is amiss.

  I should have held Bram for longer. I should have kissed him one more
time. I should have told him that I love him—on this path and every other. But now it’s too late. The moment Master Kyra sees my tattoo, my fate will be sealed. I won’t get to say goodbye.

  Woodenly, I shrug off my Bone Charmer cloak. Pull up my sleeve.

  Master Kyra stands. Her warm fingers are gentle but firm as she traces the tattoo. Healing the bones didn’t change it. She makes a disbelieving sound, but she doesn’t speak.

  My breath feels trapped in my lungs. Like I’m desperate for air, but a heavy weight rests on my chest and makes it impossible to breathe.

  “Remarkable,” Master Kyra says, letting my sleeve fall.

  “What?” My voice comes out little more than a squeak.

  “Your tattoo is looking excellent, Saskia. Much more balanced now. All three corners are equally developed in both size and color.” She pats me on the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

  My thoughts move so fast, I can’t catch them. Master Kyra knows I have all three Sights. And she’s not angry about it.

  Something changed in the past that altered the rules. Latham got what he wanted—a world where everyone is free to reach their fullest magical potential. It must mean that he has true power here. It’s a chilling notion. Or a hopeful one. I don’t know yet.

  I think of Norah’s statement before we left for the third bone game. And maybe if you succeed, we can both get what we want. Is this what she meant? Fewer restrictions on magic without Latham becoming king?

  Then I think of Jensen and my heart swells. He’ll be safe on this path. Home with Boe and Fredrik. I search my memory of the bone games in this reality, and images of a different trial float to the surface of my mind—a woman who used healing magic as a torture device—to cause agony instead of alleviating it. This time, my guilty vote wasn’t fraught with inner turmoil.

  If only I could have brought my mother back too. I wonder if her absence will always feel like this. Like a wound that never really heals. I wonder what she would think of my choices.

  “Everything all right?” Master Kyra asks.

  “Yes. I’m just glad you’re pleased with my progress. I’ve been … worried.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have been.”

  She scatters a handful of bones in the bottom of the stone basin that rests between us. “I thought we’d do a little First Sight memory work today.”

  “Memory work?”

  “Occasionally you’ll work with Healers to help their patients access long-forgotten memories. Or memories that haven’t been recalled for many years and need to be accessed for emotional healing. But in order to help others retrieve their memories, it helps if you can learn to find your own.”

  A thrill goes through me and I can’t tell if it’s anticipation or fear.

  “So what is the task?”

  “I’d like you to do a First Sight reading on yourself,” she says. “Find a memory that has been lost to the sands of time and experience it again. See it in as much detail as possible.”

  I sprinkle the bones with my blood and set them alight. Then I extinguish the flame with a heavy iron lid and tip the bones onto the cloth in front of me.

  The magic leaps from my fingers and pulls me into the vision the instant I make contact with the bones. I’m swept away before I’m fully ready.

  I’m so accustomed to reading possibilities that the view of my past startles me. It isn’t a network of ever-branching paths, but one long, glimmering ribbon, as if this one life was always inevitable. I walk down it in reverse, starting with opening my eyes in Latham’s shop and moving through the memories of my training at Ivory Hall. Backward even further, to my kenning, where my mother matches me as a Bone Charmer—no First, Second, or Third Sight designation necessary. And she pairs me with Bram. I’m unhappy, but I don’t reach for the bone. Don’t break it.

  I keep wandering backward, luxuriating in the familiar sights and smells of Midwood—the subtle fragrance of the pale pink blossoms on the trees, the gentle burble of the river in the distance. I sit with Ami on the banks of the Shard, our feet dangling in the cool water. I find my father and delight in hearing his voice again. At smelling the remnants of paint wafting from his skin. At feeling the scratch of his whiskers on my cheek when he kissed me good night.

  I stand in the kitchen with Gran, shelling peas while she tells me stories. I lie in the cool grass under the stars and listen to the soft hoot of an owl.

  And then I go to my mother. I find a moment when I am very young. I’ve just had a nightmare, and she pads into my room, barefoot, hair loose and hanging nearly to her waist. Her face is limned in moonlight. Her expression is gentle.

  “I had a bad dream,” I tell her.

  She sits on the edge of my bed, pushes my hair off my forehead. “Yes, I heard.”

  “Will you stay with me for a while?”

  “Of course I will.” She pulls the covers up and tucks them under my chin. “Do you want to hear a story?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “It’s a true story,” she says. “And it happened just the other day.”

  In the vision, I give a disappointed sigh. “True stories aren’t as good as made-up ones.”

  She laughs. “That’s usually true. But I think you’ll like this story. It’s about you.”

  That gets my attention and I perk up just a little.

  “I was doing a bone reading, and I saw you. In the future.”

  I yawn. My mother seeing my future is nothing new. This story isn’t starting out exciting at all.

  “You were sitting in a training room studying bone charming, and do you know what you saw in your vision?”

  “What?” I say, bleary with exhaustion, my eyes already sliding closed again.

  “You saw this very moment. You saw yourself having a nightmare and me coming in here to talk to you. I saw a future where you saw the past. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “I don’t know,” I say sleepily. “What does it mean?”

  “It means you’ll never lose me.” Her voice is husky with emotion. “It means we’re connected forever. Across space and time.”

  “Why would I lose you?”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “In the vision, you missed me very much,” she says.

  “Homesick?” I ask softly, tucking my palms beneath my cheek.

  “Something like that.”

  In the vision, I roll over. My breath grows deep and even. But my mother keeps talking.

  “I saw a future where you wondered what I would think of your choices. So I want to tell you: I saw a woman who is brave and strong and capable. A woman who tries to do the right thing even when it comes at great personal risk. A woman I’m so proud to have raised.”

  She’s not talking to me in the past. She’s talking to me right now. I’m breathless with the magic of it. With this golden, glimmering gift of fate.

  “I love you, Saskia,” she continues, “with every fiber of my being. I will love you always.”

  In the vision, she leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead. I feel her lips on my temple. Smell the vanilla scent of her skin.

  “I love you too,” I say in the present—outside the vision. I say it even though I know she won’t be able to hear me. The only Saskia she can hear is right beside her, fast asleep.

  And yet …

  My mother smiles softly. “I know you do, bluebird.”

  The vision fades. I open my eyes and wipe the tears from my cheeks.

  Master Kyra is studying me with a thoughtful expression. “Memories can be so healing, don’t you agree?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Bram and I walk hand in hand through Kastelia City. Moonlight glimmers on the water. Musicians stand at each corner, strumming instruments and singing love ballads. I feather my thumb along the slender red tattoo on Bram’s wrist. It appeared after we changed the past—bright and fully formed, as if it had been there all long.

  When I first saw it, my eyes met his. “Is that …?” I looked away, su
ddenly shy. “Is it from me?”

  He shrugged. “Could be from anyone. I’m not familiar with this path.”

  I stared at him, unamused. A teasing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I tried to punch his shoulder, but he caught my fist in his hand and pressed it tightly against his chest. I opened my palm. Felt his heart go erratic.

  “I think there’s only one explanation for that tattoo,” he said.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t think it matters at all.” He smiles as I raise my eyebrows. “Whether I have a love tattoo or I don’t is irrelevant. My path could split a thousand times, and I’d find you and love you on all of them.”

  “Even if I can be infuriating sometimes?”

  “Even then.”

  I tipped my face up to his, and he kissed me until I felt like I was made of bubbles. Until I was so giddy, I couldn’t think straight.

  And now, as we walk, I’m filled with wonder that finally we are in the same place at the same time with the same memories.

  A gift of fate. Or finally, a series of good choices. Either way, I’m grateful.

  We start across a bridge. On the far end, a couple stands, looking out over the water. They huddle close together, their fingers intertwined. The man says something that makes his partner throw her head back in laughter. He laughs too and then pulls her closer. She rests her cheek against his shoulder.

  “Maybe that will be us twenty years from now,” Bram says. “Still in love enough to hold hands and take moonlit walks.”

  The thought makes me feel as if I’m sipping a hot drink on a cold day. Warmth spreads through my center. As we get closer, the couple shifts, revealing a man standing on the other side of them. I stop walking.

  “What’s wrong?” Bram asks.

  But words fail me. I’m frozen in place.

  Bram squints into the distance. “Is that …?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  It’s Latham.

  Tears spring to my eyes, unbidden, and I try furiously to blink them away. Bram’s hand tightens around mine.

  “We’ll go another way,” he says. But it’s too late. Latham has spotted me.