She was moving before Guine finished speaking, running toward the window. Stran met her there. Climbing onto the windowsill, Kreya commanded, “Keep me from falling.” She felt her back twinge, and she winced, but she didn’t stop. Stran wrapped his arms around her legs, and she leaned forward.
Gouged into the stone were claw marks. After that, the trail vanished over the side of the fifth tier. Of course. Eklor would have imbued his creation with a stability bone. She signaled for Stran to pull her back in.
“Anything?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Gone.”
Inwardly she swore as colorfully as Zera—at the construct, at Eklor, and at herself. She hadn’t fortified the palace against attack. She hadn’t predicted any kind of retaliation, when retaliation was Eklor’s trademark move.
She’d been so certain. So arrogant . . . All of this is my fault.
She’d poked the hornet’s nest, and it had stung them where they were most vulnerable.
Kneeling, she picked up the remains of one of her own constructs. She recognized it, even though the metal gears were warped—it was the scout she’d sent into the valley, the squirrel-like one that had been so eager to search more.
Had it returned with news? Had Eklor’s atrocity followed it here?
My fault, she thought again.
“We know who did this,” Stran said. “We go to guild headquarters. Force our way to Eklor, if we need to. If the masters side with him, then they’re complicit in this, and we force them to face their guilt.”
“No!” Guine jumped to his feet. Both of them spun to glare at him. He gulped. “It talked. I didn’t know such atrocities could talk, but it did. It said if you withdraw the false accusations, then Master Eklor will bring her back to life. If you go on fighting, you could lose her forever.”
Sagging against a pillar, Stran seemed to deflate.
Kreya understood.
Revenge was one thing. She remembered how it felt when she charged into the tower on the plains long ago, intent on tearing apart Eklor, wanting to make him feel the kind of pain she’d felt when Jentt died. But this . . .
Amurra, whether dead or alive, was a hostage. Entirely different situation.
Crossing to the fountain, cradling the crushed scout in her arms, Kreya let the burble of the water drown out all else: Stran’s sobs, the servants’ moaning and crying, Marso’s comforting them, the boy Yarri’s worried chatter, Guine’s continuing to explain he’d done all he could . . .
She cleared a space in her mind to think.
I failed my team. I have to fix this. I owe it to Amurra. To Stran. To all of them.
But how? I’ve been trying my best, and my best hasn’t been enough. Eklor had outsmarted her every step of the way. He’d been more ruthless, more prepared. How could she hope to beat him? I’m outmatched. And I failed to see it.
And Amurra paid the price.
Dimly, she heard the door open and registered that Jentt and Zera had returned. She heard Marso fill them in, and all of them began to yell and argue about what to do next.
“We can’t do it,” Zera was saying. “It’s what he wants. If we withdraw our accusations, if we don’t have the doctors testify, if we don’t get that talisman out of his hands . . . Stran, you can’t want him to go unpunished!”
“I want Amurra back,” Stran said. “Whatever the cost. If that means capitulating to that monster, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. She’s my wife, the mother of my children. She’s my life!”
“He’s trying to neutralize us before his big show,” Jentt said. “He sees us as a threat.”
Zera smacked her fists together. “Then we be that threat and we stop him!”
Stran raged, “I will not risk my wife! If there’s any chance of saving her—”
“You’d sacrifice all of Cerre for the chance that Eklor will honor his word?” Zera shot back. “I am sorry, deeply sorry, but there is no real chance of that. You’ve met Eklor, right? Never honors his word. And even if he did, remember the cost? An innocent would die. You want that on your conscience? You want it on Amurra’s? Eklor isn’t making an offer we can take. He offers false hope. You know that. We can’t negotiate with him—we have to take him down!”
In a shaky voice, the boy Yarri whispered, “She’s right. Listen to her. Master Eklor hid human bones in my bed. You saw them. You can’t trust him.”
Zera spun. “Thanks for the vote, but who the hell let a kid in here?”
Yarri shrank back, and Stran crossed to wrap an arm protectively around him. “He’s innocent. We’re keeping him safe.” To all of them, he said, “I know we can’t trust Eklor. But what choice do I have? Amurra is my wife.”
Kreya turned away from the waterfall and faced her friends. “It’s my fault.”
“It’s Eklor’s,” Zera said flatly. “And he’ll pay.”
“I always think I know best,” Kreya said. “I always think I know exactly what to do, how to keep everyone safe, how to win . . . I was so consumed with needing to beat Eklor.” Holding the scout tightly, she closed her eyes and let the full force of her guilt wash over her.
“Love that you’re having a personal epiphany,” Zera said, “but right now, we need you to lead. Stran here wants to capitulate to a war criminal, while I think Eklor needs to be punished.”
“He’s won,” Stran said. “He has my Amurra. He holds her life in his hands.”
“He’s not offering a way to save her,” Zera snapped. “He’s offering a trap. You walk in there and capitulate to what he wants, and we lose. But if we stick together . . .”
That was it.
That was what they had that Eklor didn’t: a team. A team that could work together and trust each other and lean on each other’s strengths. If they could unite in a single purpose.
But that depended, right now, on Stran.
Kreya focused on Stran and only on him. “What if we could get her body back? What would you do to save her? How far would you go?”
He understood what she was asking. “You broke law after law to bring back Jentt. Believe me when I say I would do the same. I’d do anything for her. Give up anything for her.”
Kreya studied him. “You’re certain?” Next to Amurra, whom she couldn’t ask, he was the one who’d been hurt the most. Not Kreya. Not this time. She’d made too many decisions for her team without listening to what they wanted and needed. She’d spent too long thinking she knew what was best for all of them, for Jentt, for Zera, for the world. This time, the choice was theirs. And she wanted it unanimous, beginning with Stran.
“In a second,” Stran said.
Jentt jumped in. “No.”
Stran glared at him. “You can’t choose this for me—”
“She won’t thank you,” Jentt said, and Kreya felt as if he’d stabbed her in the heart and twisted. She should have told him from the beginning what the cost was. She shouldn’t have let this lie grow between them. She should have given him a choice. “If you sacrifice your life for her, even a portion of it, to bring her back—”
“She’d do the same for me,” Stran said. “As you would for Kreya.”
Zera let out a mirthless laugh. “Jentt gave up his entire life for me, and I’m only a friend. Of course he’d give up his life for Kreya. Without a second’s hesitation.”
“Exactly,” Stran said. “Look me in the face and tell me you wouldn’t. You’d die for your wife. I know you would. So how dare you tell me I can’t do the same?”
Jentt opened his mouth and shut it.
Good, Kreya thought. Maybe he’s beginning to understand my choice. Maybe in time, he’d forgive her. She hoped they had that time. To all of them, she said, “I have a plan, if you’ll trust me.” Eklor wanted all five of them to withdraw their accusations. He’d expect them to either charge in recklessly and demand Amurra or capitulate to his demands. He wouldn’t expect Stran especially to show restraint and trust his team.
“Always,” Stran said.
�
��The army exists. The construct that attacked”—she wouldn’t say the word “killed”—“Amurra proves it. It’s coming.” Even though, yet again, they had no proof. She looked down at the little crushed scout in her arms. This also wasn’t proof, though it was enough for her. The army was coming from the valley. She’d have bet her life on it.
“So we fight?” Jentt asked.
“Not yet,” Kreya said. “We’re not ready yet. Zera?” Her friend grinned and rubbed her hands together in gleeful anticipation. “Choose your strongest talismans for Stran and Jentt, and leave me your spare, unused bones for my constructs. We will need to all work together to be ready, after I get back.”
Jentt frowned. “Back from where?”
Back from atoning for my mistakes, she thought.
Out loud, she said, “I’m going to get Amurra.”
“How?” Stran demanded.
“I’ll give him what he thinks he wants. Lie as much as I have to.” Her eyes landed on Grand Master Lorn’s beloved son. She’d try the truth too, if she could, but whatever she had to say, she’d say.
“You do know diplomacy isn’t your strongest skill?” Zera said.
“An old dog can learn new tricks,” Kreya said. “I can change. For Amurra. For us. But only if we’re all agreed that saving her comes first, before anything else. If I go down this path, then we’re committed.”
“Committed to what?” Marso asked.
“War,” she said bluntly. “If I do this, there will be no more words that will save us or Vos. Only the spilling of blood.”
Her team was silent for a moment, chewing over their memories and their fears.
At last, Zera said, “I think . . . that was always our fate, from the moment we heard his laugh on the plains.”
“Then we’re agreed?” Kreya said. “First I lie, then we fight.”
Around her, her friends nodded, one after another, with Jentt last, reluctant but agreed. Unanimous.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Holding the boy’s hand, Kreya walked through the stone skull into the guild headquarters. She gave their names to the guards at the front but spoke to no one else. It was crowded—Grand Master Lorn had summoned bone workers from across Vos to experience Eklor’s “miracle,” and they’d obviously begun to arrive, clogging the hallways and filling the great hall.
“Are you scared?” Yarri asked in a small voice.
“Of course,” Kreya said. “Only fools aren’t scared.”
“Oh.” His voice was even smaller.
“But that doesn’t mean we don’t do what needs to be done anyway. Fear just means you’re alive. And that you care about staying that way. It’s a good thing. You just can’t let it make your decisions.”
“Will Master Eklor be here?”
“I certainly hope so.” She tried to keep the viciousness out of her voice and knew she’d completely failed. She gripped the boy’s hand harder and increased her pace. She wore her best don’t-fuck-with-me expression, and the clumps of bone workers reacted accordingly—they parted to let her through.
As she passed by, a few bone workers called to her by name. She glanced over, and their names clicked into her head as she recognized them: Uvi, Penrek, Briel. But she didn’t stop to greet them. One of them, Briel, jogged up to her. Once, they’d been students together here. Now, the years had carved craters into Briel’s cheeks. “Master Kreya!” Briel sounded delighted to see her. “It’s been years! How have you been? Is it true what I heard, that Jentt lives?”
“You should leave,” Kreya told her. “Quickly and quietly, with as many as will go with you. No matter what you’ve heard or may hear. If you value your life and your soul, leave.”
Briel recoiled and let out a nervous laugh. “Surely you jest. Grand Master Lorn has assured us in no uncertain terms there’s no danger, no matter what gossip we may hear from the uneducated masses beyond our walls—”
Kreya kept walking. She’d delivered her warning. If others chose to disregard the lessons of the past, that was not her problem. Or it wasn’t her problem right now. It will be my problem later, she thought. But right now, she had a single goal: Amurra.
Stran had made his choice to save her, and Kreya was going to honor that choice. She had the team’s approval to do what needed to be done.
Besides, I do not leave teammates behind. Never again.
She’d lost one once. She wasn’t about to lose another. And Amurra had become one of them, even if she wasn’t in any of the ballads about the Five Heroes. She’d joined their group by her own choice and become a part of it by both words and actions.
Kreya walked straight to Grand Master Lorn’s office. He’d be there, she guessed, preparing for the miracle. Giving her name to the guard, she waited while he knocked. The guard stepped inside and then emerged. “He will see you.” Eyeing her, the guard hesitated for a second before adding, “Master Eklor is with him.”
“Good.” Still holding Yarri’s hand, she entered the office.
Both Lorn and Eklor were there. Lorn was seated at his desk, papers arrayed in front of him, while Eklor stood behind him, also looking down at the papers.
“Papa!”
Grand Master Lorn rose to his feet. “Yarri, what—”
Kreya did not release the boy’s hand. Instead, she tightened her grip. “Stay by me,” she said softly. Seeing Eklor, Yarri stopped willingly. He clung to Kreya’s side, and she wrapped her arm around him as if that would protect him from all of life’s disappointments and betrayals. She knew it wouldn’t.
“Ahh, Master Kreya, you’ve come to withdraw your false accusations?” Eklor guessed.
Kreya didn’t try to keep her hatred off her face. “I have.”
“You will admit to Grand Master Lorn that you have no proof?”
“I have no proof,” she agreed.
Eklor broke into a smile. “And you will testify to this in front of all the bone workers?”
“I will. You stand falsely accused. My past blinded me to the truth.”
He looked as if he wanted to rub his hands together and start chortling, but he restrained himself. “And your team? Will they testify as well?”
“Unfortunately, my team is in mourning,” she said. “The wife of Stran, my friend and Hero of Vos, was murdered earlier today.”
Grand Master Lorn’s eyes flicked from his son up to Kreya’s face. “Stran’s wife?”
“What terrible news,” Eklor said. “Of course, I had nothing to do with her death. As Grand Master Lorn can attest I have been in the guild headquarters since your embarrassing display of paranoia this morning.” He said this as if it proved anything, when it was known he could create and command constructs.
“I didn’t claim you killed her.”
“Good. Because it seems to me that would be adding an accusation instead of recanting one.” Eklor was studying her, as if trying to figure out her intent. She wished she could trust Grand Master Lorn to side with her if she did accuse Eklor, but given what they suspected about the persuasion talisman, she didn’t dare take that risk. Her number one priority right now was Amurra. Everything else had to wait.
“It has come to my attention that you have her body,” Kreya said. “I want it back.”
Grand Master Lorn flipped his focus from his son to Eklor. “What has happened? Why would you have Stran’s wife’s body?”
Eklor spoke quickly. “Her body was delivered to me, along with a request for resurrection. I plan to revive her as part of tomorrow’s grand miracle.” He leveled a look at Kreya, as if daring her to contradict him.
“You will not revive her,” Kreya said. “You will return her.”
“You do not wish to accept my offer of life beyond?” Eklor said. “A pity. She could be back with her husband in a mere day. Be mother to her children again.”
Kreya didn’t reply.
“You still believe in the ‘cost’ of my resurrections?” Eklor sounded amazed. He should have been on the stage, she thought. He�
��d mastered his wounded-innocent act. “You’d truly rather she stay dead than admit you were wrong? I am surprised. But perhaps I should not be, given our history.” He sighed theatrically. “Very well. If you want her to experience true death, we will burn her body on the pyre, as is tradition. That can be arranged, can it not, Grand Master Lorn?”
“Of course,” Grand Master Lorn agreed.
“Thank you for the honor,” Kreya said, willing her voice to stay steady and low—she should have guessed he’d make that play—“but I will take the body.”
Eklor’s smile was back on his face, and Kreya resisted the urge to punch him in the mouth. He thought he held all the cards. “You cannot refuse such—”
She didn’t let him finish. Now was the time to play her cards. “Grand Master Lorn, your son has had quite a scare.”
Lorn rounded the desk. “Yarri—”
“Ahh, I see. How sad,” Eklor said. “The hero has become the villain. You are holding him hostage, in case I refuse you. You want to trade this innocent boy for the body of your friend.”
“I am not the villain here.” As proof, Kreya stepped aside and released Yarri’s hand. The boy ran into his father’s arms. “I wouldn’t use someone’s loved one as a hostage to get what I want.” Now it was her turn to smile pleasantly. He was mistaken: she hadn’t brought Yarri to use against Eklor; she’d brought him to use on Lorn. Encouragingly, she said to Yarri, “Go on, tell your father what you saw.”
“There were bones in my bed, Papa,” Yarri said. “Human bones. Lots of them.” The boy began to cry. “And then . . . and then . . . I saw dead people. They’d been attacked by a construct in a fifth-tier palace, where it should be safe. I . . . I . . .”
Lorn gripped his son’s shoulders. “Are you hurt? Did anyone hurt you?”
Crying full out now, Yarri couldn’t speak. He shook his head. His father checked him all over, reassuring himself that he was unharmed.
“No one hurt him,” Kreya said. “And no one will hurt him. Right, Eklor?”
“Indeed,” Eklor said. His smile was more strained, but it was still fixed on his face.
“Here’s the deal, Eklor: I will withdraw my accusations. Publicly, as you wish, on behalf of all five Heroes of Vos. And you will give me the body of Amurra, to be mourned and handled by her loved ones. If anyone asks, we will say her husband was not present at the time of her death, and he wishes to say goodbye. If you are as innocent as you claim to be, what’s the harm in being gracious and kind?”
The Bone Maker Page 34