Pernelle reaches for me. “Where are you going?”
I keep backtracking. I can’t breathe. I don’t know how to do everything at once—rule my famille, ferry the dead, free Ailesse, deal with my mother, stop the Chained.
Nadine frowns. “We haven’t even made a solid plan.”
“We need to prepare a place to hold the Chained,” Dolssa adds. “You haven’t even awakened the famille yet, Sabine. You need to speak with them.”
“I know, but . . .” Black spots flash in my vision. I brace my hand against the cavern wall. “I just need a moment to . . .” I hasten toward the tunnel leading outside. “I’ll be right back.”
I bolt through the tide-carved tunnels. The echoing of the waves crashes against my ears, louder with my jackal hearing. I can’t stop picturing Odiva behind the rushing veil of water, the noctule bat skull on her bone crown staring down at me. How will I be able to ferry again with my mother’s black eyes looking over my shoulder?
I reach an upper level where the cave tunnels meet the ancient castle’s corridors. Engraved crests of Château Creux keep catching my eye. They’re repeated in the archways and along the walls, the crow and rose symbol of the monarchy that once ruled South Galle. The images nudge me like a warning, but I’m too overwhelmed to make sense of them. I hurry toward the collapsed archway my famille uses as an entrance, then up the crumbling stone staircase. My feet sink into the wet grass outside.
I bend over, lean my hands on my knees, and try to force my lungs to open up. The rain drizzles onto my hair and face and drips off the end of my nose. Calm down, Sabine. Just breathe. This day won’t end. It’s all been too much.
“Sabine?”
My head jerks up at Jules’s low and gritty voice. Fifteen yards away, she rises from behind the ruins of the castle’s garden wall. Her hood is drawn up against the rainfall, but my nighthawk vision catches her shoulders’ shiver. I rush over and pull her back toward the castle, under the shelter of an overhanging battlement.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss. “If my famille sees you . . .” I don’t want to imagine their anger. No outsiders are supposed to know where we live. The people of Dovré have always stayed away. They believe these castle ruins are cursed, haunted by the former king of South Galle. Casimir’s father didn’t always rule this country.
“What am I doing here?” Jules places a hand on her hip. “You abandoned me and Marcel.”
I briefly shut my eyes. Did I do anything right today? “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to rescue Ailesse and . . . well, it was ferrying night. I had to . . .” I trail off, distracted by the sickly pallor of Jules’s skin. “You really shouldn’t be here, you know—or outside at all.” Bastien told me how she had already lost a great deal of Light. “Ferrying was a disaster. Chained souls are loose again and—”
“Bastien was arrested.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
Jules casts off her hood, glaring at me. “You weren’t there to help him. I overheard the soldiers. They said you ran off to save yourself.”
“That’s not what . . .” I rub my brow as guilt overwhelms me. “I thought he was safe when I left.”
“Well, he’s in the dungeons now, thanks to you. And the law isn’t lenient toward thieves.” Her hard expression cracks, and her chin starts to quiver. “They could execute him if we don’t act quickly.”
I wince. I can’t let Bastien die. I owe it to Ailesse. “Was our route through the castle well discovered?”
She nods. “Marcel and I barely escaped with our lives.”
“Then how else can we infiltrate Beau Palais?” Our plot via the well route took us a fortnight to prepare.
She draws a long breath, like she’s been rehearsing her answer. “I think I know a way. The first night that Bastien, Marcel, and I took Ailesse to the catacombs—”
“You mean when you abducted her?”
“Yes, yes.” Jules waves a dismissing hand. “Odiva made an attempt to set her free—a diversion meant to give Ailesse the opportunity to break away. It almost worked.” She quickly explains how a colony of giant bats raided their catacombs chamber.
I think back to that night. “Odiva was chanting, praying to Tyrus,” I murmur. When the elder Leurress were out searching for Ailesse, Odiva stayed behind in Château Creux. “I saw her cut her finger on the teeth of her noctule bat skull. Her blood must have been part of the ritual.” Of course it was. As her daughter, Ailesse shared her blood. The ritual magic sent the bats to the place she was being held.
“Excellent,” Jules says. “Then you already know how to do it.”
“Maybe.” It might be similar to the proxy ritual I had performed. “But we shouldn’t resort to a blood ritual with Tyrus unless we’re desperate.”
“Didn’t you hear me a moment ago? Thieves hang. We’re desperate, Sabine.”
My mouth runs dry, and I force a swallow. “Well, I don’t think a flock of nighthawks or a herd of salamanders is going to be quite as threatening as giant noctule bats.”
“What about golden jackals?” Jules asks.
“They’re not native to South Galle.” The one I killed was extremely rare. Who knows how the gods had brought it here? “Leurress rituals are powerful, but they can’t create new life.”
“I figured.” She tilts her head. “So the animal should be common to these parts if we want a whole nest of them to attack the castle?”
I frown, wary of the eager gleam in her hazel eyes. “I already have three grace bones, Jules. I can’t—”
“Odiva had five.”
“I’m not matrone. Not really. Ailesse will be back soon and—”
“You’re matrone in the meantime. So claim another bone.” She shrugs. “You can toss it out once Ailesse wears the crown. You’ll bring her home even sooner once the snakes create a diversion.”
“Snakes?” My stomach twists.
She leans closer. “Don’t you see? Ailesse and Bastien will understand it’s Bone Crier magic. They’ll seize the opportunity and find a way to spring free during the madness.”
A harsh laugh escapes me. “Unless they’re poisoned by venom.”
“We don’t have to worry about that. I’ll show you.” Jules rushes back toward the garden wall. From behind it, she lifts a sack of rough-spun cloth that’s knotted at the top. Oh no . . .
She hurries back, her wide grin revealing the small gap between her front teeth. She’s already panting from such a short run. She’s so much weaker than the girl I fought under the bridge during Ailesse’s attempted rite of passage. She’ll never recover from the Light she lost. None of the people in Dovré who were attacked will.
I grimace at the wriggling sack. “What have you caught in there?”
“A Gallish whip snake.” She flings her golden braid behind her shoulder. “They aren’t poisonous, but Marcel says they’re often mistaken for venomous meadow vipers. Their scale markings are similar, and they flatten their heads in a triangular shape to look like a viper when they’re threatened.”
I knead my temples. I feel a headache coming on. “I don’t know, Jules.” The elders are expecting me back inside. Though maybe if I return with another grace bone, they might believe I’m trying harder to become a good matrone. “I want to free Bastien . . . but what if Ailesse is safer in Beau Palais?” I picture my mother’s cunning face again. Her words ring to mind: All she needs to do is touch my hand, and then Tyrus will release me.
“Safer?” Jules scoffs. “You said the Chained are loose now. Ailesse was a beacon to them last time.”
“That’s because she played the siren song to open the Gates.” I did the same tonight, but I seemed to repel the Chained instead of luring them. Once they saw my necklace, they startled.
“It’s still dangerous,” Jules insists. “We need to take cover underground again. When Bastien and Ailesse return—”
“Ailesse can’t return!” I snap. “My mother is alive, Jules!”
Her brow wrinkles. “Yo
u told me she ran through the Gate and—”
“I saw her through the Gate tonight. She said she’s alive, and I believe her.” I blow out a long breath. My problems are far from solved, but it feels good to finally have that off my chest. “Odiva is trapped for now, but she wants Ailesse to set her free.”
Jules takes a moment to absorb this. “Well, don’t you think you should warn Ailesse?”
I drag a hand over my face. “I don’t know.” I had my own warning today. I thought the silver owl was protecting my sister from the lure of the Underworld, but maybe the owl knew my mother would be at the Gate tonight, waiting for Ailesse to come.
Jules nibbles on her lip, glancing in the direction of Dovré. If the high towers of Château Creux were still standing, we would be able to see the ramparts of Beau Palais from on top of them. “Look,” she says, “I’m not sure what to say about your mother and Ailesse, but Bastien is my best friend. You left him stranded today, and now you need to do something to make it right.” She holds the sack out to me. The cloth writhes from the whip snake inside. “So do something, Sabine. Make it right.”
I sigh. I need to make a thousand things right. Maybe I should start with this. I steady myself and take the sack.
“Good,” Jules says. “Now hurry.”
I murmur a quick goodbye, then rush back inside Château Creux and climb one of the small still existing towers that leads to my mother’s old chambers. She had a collection of ritual blades—bone weapons she used to sacrifice animals for their graces. I grab the bone sickle that killed her asp viper.
I unknot the sack and drop it on the ground. I hold the sickle high, ready to strike. The old Sabine would be sick to her stomach, but instead my belly growls. If I’m disgusted, it’s with myself. I hate the craving for flesh the jackal grace has given me. And the graces I’ll obtain from the snake will probably only make that craving worse. I shudder. What other “gifts” will I receive tonight? My mother had the graces of a snake—an asp viper. How did they change her?
The snake peeks out of the sack. Its pupils are round, but its head is flattened and triangular. It’s feeling threatened. Of course it is.
Don’t think, Sabine. Rely on the jackal grace and do what you have to do.
My bloodlust heightens. I swing my blade. Thwack. The snake’s head rolls away.
I don’t look. My mouth is already watering. I slit the snake’s belly, peel back its skin and flesh, and expose the edge of one of its vertebrae. I cut my palm with the bone sickle, then press the vertebrae against my blood. The snake’s graces rush into me with a wave of prickling heat. I don’t pause to analyze them. I want this over with.
I squeeze my fist. Drip my blood onto the stone floor. Spread my arms with my hands cupped downward to the Underworld. I chant a prayer similar to my proxy ritual. “Hear my voice, Tyrus, my soul’s siren song. Find my sister through the blood we share. Summon other creatures like this one. Send them to attack the castle where my sister resides.”
There. It’s done.
I quickly wrap my hand in a cloth and grab another one to mop up the mess on the floor. As I pick up the snake’s head, I gasp. Even lifeless, it’s still triangular. And its pupils are no longer round from the dimness of the sack; they’re slitted like all other venomous breeds.
This isn’t a Gallish whip snake. It’s a deadly meadow viper.
Marcel may have explained the difference to Jules, but I doubt he went hunting with her. She caught the wrong snake.
I stare at my spilled blood on the floor, horror coiling inside me. I can’t reverse what I’ve done. Bone-and-blood rituals are binding.
I’ve just sent a nest of vipers to attack Beau Palais.
9
Bastien
I PACE ALONGSIDE THE BARS of my cell, my eye on the shadows past the torchlight on the other side. Dawn is a little over an hour away. Ailesse still hasn’t returned. Now would be the perfect time for her to sneak down here. The feast is over—at least the music has stopped—and my guard is sleeping. His snores rattle down the corridor in the quiet between thunderclaps.
Come on, Ailesse.
Even on her crutch, even with all the flights of stairs, she should have been back by now. I flip her gold hair comb over and over in my hand. What if Prince Casimir found out she came to see me? If he didn’t lock her up before, would he lock her up now?
I drag my hands through my hair. I’ve got to find a way to get out of here on my own. Free her, too. Break us both out of this damn castle. But how? I pace my cell two more times, and then it comes to me.
I lean against the iron bars. “Hello there! Guard!” When I don’t hear a response, I whistle, loud and shrill.
“Oy!” The guard’s voice is gruff and throaty from sleep. “None of that, unless you want a beating, boy.” An idle threat, because he doesn’t come. He starts snoring again.
“I’m bored senseless!” I shout. “Come and keep me company. We can talk about your girl, Sophie.” I chuckle. “Does your captain know what you two are doing down here?”
A pause. Then tramping boots. The guard’s panicked face appears. “Who told you about—?” His jaw muscle tightens. “I don’t know any Sophie.”
“You talk in your sleep, friend.” I wink.
In three quick strides, he’s at the bars. His meaty hand reaches past them and grabs for my throat. I jump back and grin. “Relax, I won’t snitch. Especially if you’re willing to make a trade. I found myself a little treasure buried in the straw.” I flash the hair comb at him. “This is real gold. Emeralds, too. It’s worth enough francs to unlock this cell door, don’t you think?”
The guard looks at it, and his fingers twitch. “You think you can bribe me?” He huffs. “The captain will have my head if I set you free.”
“So we make it look like I got the best of you.” I shrug. “I blacken your eye and leave your key dangling in the lock. You have a cozy nap in the straw, and when the captain makes his rounds, he’ll find you a little worse for the wear, but also the picture of innocence.”
The guard grumbles. “Give me the comb first, and I’ll think about . . .” His eyes pop wide. A look of terror comes over him. He gapes at the ceiling behind me. I twist around just as a snake drops through the chute grate. It rapidly slithers off the stone bench and under the straw on the floor.
I shuffle backward. That was a damn meadow viper. “Unlock the door,” I tell the guard, but he stands frozen. “Hurry, or the deal’s off!”
He fumbles for the key ring at his belt. Something streaks over the toe of his boot. He curses and kicks like a madman.
I glance behind me. The straw in my cell has gone still. I have no idea where the snake’s hiding now. “You got a viper problem down here?”
The guard shakes his head. “Never seen so much as a garden snake.”
Down the corridor, the shadowy floor starts to writhe like it’s made of black water. Don’t react, Bastien. I don’t want to spook the guard and have him run off on me. “The gold comb for your keys,” I demand, keeping my face straight as one of the vipers starts to coil up right behind him. One bite isn’t fatal. “Now. We make the trade at the same time.”
The guard nods and shifts closer. Sweat beads on his forehead. He lifts the keys. I hold up the comb. “Ready?” I ask. “One, two, th—”
The coiled viper strikes. Sinks its fangs into the guard’s leg. He cries out. Slams into the bars. Drops the keys. I don’t grab them; I whip the guard’s sword from its sheath. The viper in my cell hisses. I spin around and slash. My blade severs the snake just as it springs from the straw.
The guard howls and falls down. Another viper has bitten him. Merde. More slither toward him—toward me. “Get up!” I shout. I slice my sword past the bars. Another snake shrinks back. I struggle to pull up the guard. He’s dead weight and moaning, but I finally get him up on his feet. Two more vipers lunge. I cut the first with my blade. The second darts into my cell. Wonderful.
I bear up the guard and k
eep an eye on my cell. I carefully slip my boot between the bars, trying to reach the keys. A snake lashes at the guard from his other side. Latches onto his left hand. He buckles. I can’t hold him up. He thuds to the floor, bitten three times now. My chest falls. Nothing can remedy that much venom.
The viper in my cell coils. Bares its fangs. I strike before it does, but it gets away, streaking aside like lightning. Another snake drops from the chute grate. Two more slither past the bars. Merde, merde, merde.
My sword flies in all directions. The snakes hiss. Open their jaws wide. Snap at me. I keep thrashing, fighting. I know what this is now—Bone Crier magic. I’ve been attacked this way before. I toss another glance at the corridor. Where is Ailesse? We have to leave here together.
I decapitate two vipers and hurry to the bars. Snakes swarm the guard’s lifeless body. I swallow a rush of bile and focus on his fallen keys. I bat away another three snakes and hook the key ring on the tip of my sword. I kick off a snake circling my ankle and race to the cell door.
The ring holds six keys. The first two don’t fit. I’m fumbling with the third key when a viper drops from above. Merde. It was coiled around the bars. Before I can jerk away, its fangs puncture my wrist. Blinding pain rips into me. I shout and drop the keys.
“Bastien!”
Ailesse.
Black dots scatter across my vision. Past them, I see her. Her auburn hair is wet. Her dress is soaked and ripped in a few places. She’s holding her bone knife. It’s bloody. Casimir’s blood? “Sh-shouldn’t have come down here.” I speak past gritted teeth. “Too dangerous.”
She spares a glance at the dead guard, and her creamy skin pales.
“G-go,” I croak. I can barely talk, barely move. The pain won’t let up. She needs to save herself. But she doesn’t leave. She rushes to my cell, moving fast on her crutch. Maybe it’s a trick of my muddled brain, but the snakes seem to part around her. Then I remember—the noctule bats never attacked her in the catacombs, just me, Jules, and Marcel.
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