“He won’t listen,” Zera objected. “Eklor saved his son. He’ll dismiss this is as circumstantial evidence, not proof.”
“He’ll listen to the truth if we make him listen—the coincidences with the deaths in the hospital should be at least enough to cast suspicion,” Kreya said. “The guild will make Lorn investigate, if we present this publicly enough. The council will insist on it. I assume he still visits the masters and novices on the third tier once a week?”
Zera smiled. “I happen to be on close terms with the clerk who sets the agendas for his meetings. He likes to use my strength talismans. Or, more accurately, his wife likes it when he uses my strength talismans.”
“I did not need to know that detail,” Kreya said. “Can you arrange for all of us to speak with Grand Master Lorn in front of the council of masters and as many other guild members as possible? Without anyone figuring out we’re planning to do so?”
“Absolutely,” Zera said. She swept to the door and then paused, looking back at Kreya. “Better brush off your public speaking skills. And maybe find some less transparent clothes.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kreya and the others descended to the third tier, where all the guild headquarters were housed. They hid their bone worker coats in a pack that Stran carried, and they used false names as they passed through the gates. Paranoid, maybe, Kreya thought, but it pays to be cautious when your enemy has such a causal relationship with death.
Only Amurra remained behind at Zera’s palace, with Guine and Zera’s followers. This time, she hadn’t argued or asked to come. They were about to piss off the grand master of their guild. It would be best if outsiders weren’t present.
Squatting on the east side of the third tier, the Bone Workers Guild headquarters were made of stone carved to resemble the rib cage of a beast, larger than any that had ever lived. The walls had been polished until they gleamed the white of sunbaked bone. The five heroes entered through a stone skull, beneath empty eye sockets.
Already, the headquarters were humming with activity. Sliding into a side corridor, Kreya signaled to her team to keep quiet. They didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. At least not until they entered the great hall.
Zera whispered, “How impressive an entrance do you want us to make?”
“Options?” Kreya asked.
“Anywhere from joining the queue of supplicants to arriving like a firework.”
Kreya considered it. “We want all eyes on us. But no advance notice. Grand Master Lorn would prefer to see us privately, but we can’t count on him being reasonable one-on-one. We need the other masters to pressure him into listening.”
Zera grinned. “Firework then. My specialty. Follow me.”
As Zera led the way, Kreya fell in beside her, with the others behind them. She was acutely aware that Jentt had chosen to take up the rear, as far from Kreya as possible, but she shoved thoughts of him into a knot to be untangled later. He’ll forgive me, she thought, once he’s had the chance to accept that done is done. She couldn’t let herself believe anything else. Especially now. She had to stay focused on the task at hand.
After they saved the world, she could turn to saving her marriage.
The corridor was mostly empty, except for a few novices scurrying here and there. None of them gave Kreya and her team more than a glance. All five heroes knew the trick of walking with purpose, looking as if you belonged.
We do belong here, Kreya thought. Or we did.
The white-as-bone walls were coated in memories. She’d been a novice here, racing through the halls to be on time for class, sneaking spare bones out of the labs to practice when no one was watching, obsessively studying for exams until her entire body ached. She’d met Zera in one class—the teacher had been taunting a student with a stutter, telling him he’d never amount to anything if he couldn’t speak his spells right, and Kreya had informed him that she was reporting his attitude to his superiors. The teacher had tried to suspend Kreya for talking out of turn, and Zera had “accidentally” blown up a shelf of chemicals. In the chaos, Kreya and Zera had bolted for the head of the department, and within twenty-four hours, the teacher was on sabbatical, and the students had a much better teacher.
To be fair, they’d both been given detention, but it had been worth it.
She’d met Jentt here too, when they were older. Maybe it had been in the library? She knew vaguely when but didn’t remember the exact moment. She wondered if he did.
She’d recruited both Stran and Marso after, but this was the place that had set them all on the path to their future. She felt as if the memories were welcoming them back, and she began to feel confident: the council of bone worker masters would listen to them, and Eklor would be exposed and defeated.
This is it, Kreya thought. We defeated him once with strength of arms.
Now we’ll defeat him with strength of words.
Zera pivoted, leading them through a classroom with several bird skeletons suspended from the ceiling. All the rooms still smelled the same as Kreya remembered—a mixture of mildew, dust, and body odor, all undercut with the ever-present and unmistakable scent of blood. It was a comfortingly familiar smell, and she felt the muscles in her shoulders relax minutely.
Through the classroom, Zera chose a narrow stairwell. Windowless, it wound up two levels to emerge in a hall that led to the balconies overlooking the great hall. She held up a hand, stopping them before they approached the balconies.
They shed their plain coats and donned their bone worker coats. Stran stashed the pack behind a pillar. Creeping closer, they heard voices drifting up to the balcony. A crowd was gathered in the great hall, with Grand Master Lorn seated on a dais. He was lit by the muted light that poured through twenty stained glass windows, above the balcony. Each window was decorated with past glories of bone workers in colored glass thick enough to block all noise from the city outside but thin enough to allow sun to seep through.
Fourteen masters were seated beside Grand Master Lorn, in chairs carved to resemble an array of tusks—they comprised the Council of Bones, an advisory board that served the grand master. Each throne was in its own pool of muted light.
If we can convince them . . .
With a jolt, Kreya spotted Eklor between the masters, as if he’d earned the right to sit with such great men and women. It hadn’t occurred to her he’d be here. She’d pictured him skulking around Lorn’s palace. No matter, she thought. Same plan. She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and glanced back to see Marso, stricken. She nodded to him and wished she had the words to reassure him.
Zera passed out talismans to each of them. “Say ‘renari’ and try not to crash.”
Kreya crept forward, listening. Addressing a man in a bone worker’s coat, one of the masters was expounding on his theory of why the current crop of novices needed more structure in their curriculum. She had a vague memory of the master who was speaking—his beard had been burgundy when she’d known him. It was straggly and white now, and his shoulders curved toward his chest as if he carried a heavy pack.
Grand Master Lorn let him complete his monologue, and then when he inhaled to launch into another point, the grand master raised his hand. “Thank you for your input, Master Subene. We will discuss and consider your points as they pertain to the complaint at hand. But it’s time to move on to the next order of business, even if it means waking Master Epsana from her nap.”
A few laughed, and one lightly tapped Master Epsana, an elderly woman who had been slumped in her chair, on the shoulder. She straightened herself and blinked owlishly, as if she believed that fooled anyone into thinking she’d been paying attention all along.
Grand Master Lorn beckoned the next in line.
“Now,” Kreya whispered.
All five of them stepped up onto the railing, whispered “renari,” and soared off the balcony. Below them they heard surprised gasps and shouts. Following Zera’s lead, they circled once before landing in a line in fro
nt of the masters.
Straightening stiffly in his thronelike chair, Grand Master Lorn opened his mouth to speak, but Kreya did not give him the chance to either welcome them or berate them for their interruption.
“Eklor has lied to you,” Kreya said with no preamble. “He is granting life for a chosen few by taking life from unconsenting innocents.”
“He is a murderer,” Zera put in. “Not in the distant past. But now. In this city.”
Everyone broke out in shocked chatter, both from the supplicants in line behind them and from the council. Kreya focused solely on Grand Master Lorn and the other masters. Their response was what mattered, and their expressions ranged from shock to disbelief.
“Impossible!” Grand Master Lorn said. “He has been nowhere but my palace and the guild headquarters since the moment of his return to Cerre.” He signaled to the guards, and they herded the supplicants out of the hall.
She glanced back at them and the heavy doors. He’d reacted quickly, almost as if he’d been ready for them. But they could do this without an audience. The only ears they truly needed were the council’s.
“With all due respect, Grand Master, we believe he has found a way to circumvent you,” Jentt said with a bow. “He has deceived you.”
“We believe he is stealing blood from victims convalescing in the second-tier hospital and using it as a conduit to transfer their life force to the dead for his ‘miracle’ resurrections.” Kreya switched her gaze to their nemesis.
On his chair of tusks, Eklor looked unfazed. He hadn’t moved, not even to flinch when they flew in from the balcony. He couldn’t have been expecting us, Kreya thought.
Or maybe he had. After all, he knew what crimes he was committing. It couldn’t have been a surprise to him that someone eventually noticed.
“These are serious accusations,” Grand Master Lorn began.
“For serious crimes,” Kreya cut in. “And we count on you and the council to investigate them. Master Eklor has caused great pain to the people of Vos. We must learn from our past mistakes and not allow history to repeat.”
A small smile was playing on Eklor’s lips. She wished she could charge up to him and wipe it off his face. What did he have to smile about? They were exposing him, and yet he seemed like he was about to get a commendation!
“Ah, but we must also not be blinded by our past,” Grand Master Lorn said. “Master Eklor has come to us with open arms, confessed, and repented. In exchange for forgiveness, he offers us a blessing: a second chance at life for our loved ones.”
“By murdering innocents,” Zera said. “You caught that part, right?”
A few chairs down from Lorn, Master Subene scowled at them. Kreya recalled that the master had never liked her. Called her arrogant and pigheaded, which may have been accurate but the master shouldn’t have said it publicly. “Such a serious accusation requires serious proof. Do you have proof?”
Presenting her death list, Zera indicated the eight hospital patients who had died. She shared it with all the council members, walking to each one of them. “Note the times of death. Each corresponds to the exact time of one of Eklor’s resurrections. Also note the causes of death: inconclusive. In all cases, according to their records, the patients were not in the hospital for life-threatening causes. Furthermore, all were located in the same floor and same wing of the same hospital.”
“Coincidence,” another master scoffed. Kreya had forgotten her name. She didn’t think she’d made an enemy of her. Zera, though, who had obviously expected a greater reaction to her presentation, looked rattled.
Master Subene agreed with his colleague. “I only hear speculation. Do you have any proof beyond this coincidence?”
Kreya had expected outrage. Confusion. Questions. She hadn’t expected anyone on the council to sound so immediately dismissive of their charges. She eyed Master Subene, wondering why he would want to defend Eklor. Fear of his own death, or fear of a loved one’s? That fear was a powerful thing. She began to wonder if she’d misjudged the council members.
She wondered if she’d misjudged humanity.
I was willing to sacrifice myself, and desecrate the dead, to reach my goal. Who’s to say others wouldn’t willingly kill for their loved ones—or themselves—to live?
Still . . . was that true for all of them? Surely, at least one council member had to harbor doubts. She glanced again at Eklor and saw he was twirling the same unfamiliar talisman. She wondered again what it was. A backup plan of some sort? A way to escape, if all turned sour for him?
“Furthermore, I, for one, do not appreciate the theatrics of it,” Master Subene continued. “There is a process here.” He waved his wrinkled hand at doors, now closed to the line of supplicants. If they were still out there, it was impossible to hear them through the thick wood.
“Kind of thought the seriousness of the issue warranted a deviation from the usual process,” Zera said. “Again, murderer. Mass murderer. Of innocents.”
“If you had actual proof, you wouldn’t have resorted to theatrics,” Subene sniffed.
What was wrong with them? This was Eklor. Mass murderer. Cause of the Bone War. Enemy of the people. Why were they being so obstinate?
“Investigate however you choose,” Kreya said to the council, directing her words to the members who were not Master Subene. “Speak to the doctors who treated the victims. Review the causes of the deaths. Interview the hospital staff and determine who had access to these patients prior to their deaths. There is proof to be found, now that you know where to look. All we ask is that you find the truth and proceed accordingly. If we’re wrong, we apologize. But if we’re right, isn’t that worth confirming?”
She met the eyes of the other masters, looking for agreement.
To her shock, she saw only doubt, suspicion, and resistance.
He’s corrupted the council, she thought. She didn’t know how, but somehow he had won them over. It made no sense. These were masters of their craft, respected, educated, and smart. Well, except Master Subene. But the others shouldn’t have been so easily swayed. Most of them were old enough to have fought in the Bone War against Eklor, to have lost friends and family.
“We sympathize with all you have suffered,” Grand Master Lorn said with what he must have meant as a pitying smile—it came off as a caricature of one—“but Master Subene and Master Anitra are correct. This is the thinnest of evidence you present for the gravest of accusations. With respect to all you have given to and suffered for Vos, your desire for revenge is overwhelming your grasp on reality. Correct me if I am wrong, but as I see it, you have no concrete evidence that Master Eklor’s gift is anything but that: a gift.”
Jentt stepped forward. “I know how grateful you must feel for the return of your son. But no gift is free.” He did not look at Kreya as he said this, but Kreya felt the words burrow into her. She had been willing to pay the cost, though, with full knowledge of it. Those people in the hospital had not even been given a choice.
Stran spoke up next. “It’s not your fault someone died so your son could live. You didn’t know. Not knowing—well, I would’ve done the same as you. But now that you do know, you cannot stand by and do nothing—”
Grand Master Lorn interrupted, his temper beginning to fray. “We do not do nothing! And believe me, Master Eklor is being carefully monitored. He is not a free man, forgiven of all past wrongdoings. But thus far, we have seen no true evidence, beyond wild speculation, that Master Eklor is still the man he was. All of us have seen the bone reading showing clearly and indisputably the destruction of the last of his soldiers, and the guards on the wall have reported to the council of your own team’s findings in the forbidden zone. Master Eklor has shown every sign of change, and I believe it is right for our souls, right for the healing of this land, to open ourselves to the gift of forgiveness. And to allow Master Eklor to gift us with the benefits of his skills.”
Master Subene sighed in obvious relief, and Kreya narrowed her eye
s. She studied each of the masters, all of whom were nodding in agreement.
Yes, everyone feared death. But was everyone willing to pay such a cost? She wouldn’t have believed it. Could it be denial? Perhaps they could pay anything if they could deny the cost existed. Pretend there wasn’t a problem. Pretend they didn’t see. How willingly would people delude themselves if it meant saving the life of one they loved? How many lines would they cross? And if all they had to do was refuse to look at the lines they were crossing . . .
She had to shake them into facing the truth!
“He uses human bones,” Kreya blurted out.
Beside her, Zera hissed in her breath.
Kreya plowed on. “That’s what the spell requires: words, a life force to give, and human bones to create the link. Even if he used his own life force and the hospital deaths were only a coincidence, he would still be breaking the law.”
“Lies!” Grand Master Lorn shot to his feet. “I witnessed my son’s rebirth, and no human bones were used!” She read shock and disbelief on the faces of the other masters. If she could just make them listen, make them believe . . .
“I have seen the closet where he keeps them, in your palace,” Kreya continued relentlessly. “He has been using the bones taken from the fallen soldiers—our fallen soldiers—in the forbidden zone. Search your palace, and you’ll find them. In the third hallway.”
The masters chattered to one another, and she could feel the outrage rising. Good, she thought. Now we have their attention. Eklor had committed multiple atrocities. The masters couldn’t ignore them all. Surely, they’d investigate now.
At last Eklor spoke. “There are no bones from the war. I burned the bodies on the plains, along with the remnants of my soldiers, and mourned them. Whether you wish to see it or not, I have repented and come to Cerre a changed man.”
“Your hatred of Master Eklor has blinded you to the truth,” Grand Master Lorn said.
The Bone Maker Page 31