Bone Crier's Moon

by Kathryn Purdie

  Ailesse’s amouré smiles again, but now it’s a mysterious smirk. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  I glance at his uniform once more and shake my head. I can’t guess his rank.

  He leans in close and tells me.

  I feel my eyes grow wide.

  43

  Ailesse

  I RUSH THROUGH THE MINES beneath the catacombs. I can’t find the shaft that drops to the level of the bridge. Marcel might be brilliant, but his artistic skills are wanting. His scribbles have already led me down three wrong paths, and I wasted too much time backtracking.

  A branching tunnel appears at the edge of my lamplight, and I quickly check Marcel’s map. I have no idea where I am. I glance back the way I came, then through the new tunnel. I hate stopping. Every time I pause, my eyes sting and I hear Bastien’s voice. Will you dance with me like you did then? I feel his hand cradling my cheek as he whispers, You never needed to play a song for me, Ailesse.

  I ignore the hollow ache in my chest. I sprint down the new tunnel and bury any stray thoughts of Bastien. I focus on the bridge over earth instead. Did the Leurress ferry on it long ago? Why did they stop? Because the tunnels evolved into a desecrated mass grave?

  I keep my eyes peeled for the hatch Marcel spoke about. If I can’t find the main entrance he marked on the map, maybe I can spot the other entrance to the soul bridge. But the hatch isn’t on the map, and I don’t see any sign of it.

  The tunnel curves. I run past two boarded-up branching tunnels. Am I circling the same abyss I was blasted into when my mother tried to rescue me? Is the soul bridge down there?

  I pick up speed. Midnight is less than an hour away. It’s too late now to race home and get my mother. No matter. She’ll praise me for discovering this place. I’ll prove that the Leurress can ferry on the full moon, too.

  I hear Sabine’s voice now. You need to think, Ailesse. You can’t ferry the dead by yourself. Her concerned tone is familiar. She used it when she asked, Do you really have to hunt a tiger shark? and Is it wise to have your rite of passage at Castelpont? My jaw muscle hardens, and I push out her voice like I pushed out Bastien’s. Sabine forgets I always achieve what I set out to do, no matter how difficult. Except breaking my soul-bond to Bastien.

  I bolt around another corner and slide to a sudden halt. My oil lamp flickers, almost burning out. I advance several feet, and my pulse races. A wheel and axle is built over a hole in the ground near the tunnel’s dead end. I check Marcel’s clumsy drawing on the map. This is it—the entrance to the caves below.

  I break into a triumphant smile. Thank you, Elara.

  I hurry to the edge of the hole. It’s really a circular shaft about five feet wide. Above it, spooled around the axle, is a rope. I remove a bucket from its hooked end, set my oil lamp aside, and crank the wheel, extending all the rope into the shaft.

  I grab my lamp and pray I don’t drop it while I descend. My tiger shark vision can’t penetrate the dense black of the mines; I need at least a small source of light to work with.

  I step to the very edge of the shaft. Needles of anxiety prick my skin. Then they heighten and pummel my spine. This isn’t nerves. It’s my sixth sense. Someone is coming.

  I whirl around. At the same time, the shaft edge crumbles.

  I slide into the shaft and scream. The rope is slipping through my fingers.

  I secure my grip and hit against the shaft wall. My clay lamp shatters. Everything goes black.

  Someone shouts, but the sound is muffled. A Chained soul? I’m suspended by the rope, my pulse thrashing in my ears.

  Faint illumination shines above me. I see the circled opening of the shaft. I’m three feet away from the top. The light builds. It isn’t chazoure; it’s golden.

  “Ailesse!” Someone reaches down. My breath catches. Bastien.

  I grab his hand. He pulls me over the edge. I clamber to my feet and throw myself at him. Shock courses through my body. His arms wrap around me, and he holds me just as fiercely. I can’t stop shaking. I clutch fistfuls of his shirt and press my nose into the crook of his neck and shoulder. I never thought I’d see him again. He kisses the top of my head over and over. My pulse thrums through my limbs and into my palms and the soles of my feet. I close my eyes and let his musky warm scent fill my lungs.

  Bastien strokes my hair. “Why did you leave?” His voice betrays a little hurt.

  My lashes fan against his neck as I remember what upset me. “You have feelings for Jules. Stronger than I realized.”

  “She’s my best friend, Ailesse. Of course I have feelings for her. But that doesn’t mean—”

  “You told her your father’s phrase, Bastien.” I pull away from him. “‘I’m not missing from you. You’re not missing from me.’” My throat tightens. “I thought that meant you held someone in your heart . . . and I guess—I hoped—that girl was me.”

  His eyes fill with deep tenderness. “I’m sorry.” He smooths a stray hair from my brow. “That phrase, it’s something I say to family. Jules and Marcel—they’re family. But you . . .” He swallows and takes my face in his hands. “It means something different when I say it to you.”

  My heart beats faster. “Truly?”

  His sea-blue eyes reflect the gold of his flickering lantern. “You’re the girl I’m in love with, Ailesse.”

  A rush of heat washes over my skin. I’m suddenly weightless, breathless. “Can you repeat that again?” I cock my head closer. “I’m not sure I heard you right.”

  He grins. “I’m in love with you, Ailesse.”

  “A little louder.”

  “I’M IN L—”

  I bring his mouth to mine. I kiss him with all the strength of my graces. He laughs against my lips and spins me back toward the wall, kissing me with equal passion. I pull him even closer. I’ve wanted this since he fought beside me at the land bridge and filled our room with candles and brought me to the moon under the dome.

  He stumbles back a step as I push off the wall and kiss him more urgently. He lifts me so our faces are level. My toes skim the ground as he kisses deeper, harder. I want more. My back arches. I weave and tug my fingers through his hair. Heat flowers from my belly and spreads throughout my chest and limbs. He’s as warm and flushed as I am.

  We pull back and gasp for air, our heads leaning together. “Bastien . . .” I say, waiting for my racing pulse to slow and my breath to steady. I draw my head back so I can see him. “Look at me.” He slowly opens his eyes like he’s waking from a spell. I sweep my thumbs across his cheekbones. “I love you, Bastien.” I need him to know I feel just the same. “I love you,” I say again, in a reverent whisper.

  He still has me lifted in his arms. “Ailesse,” he whispers with the softest smile. He doesn’t say more. He doesn’t need to. He gently lowers me to the ground, and our lips touch again, tender and patient and adoring. This is a new dance between us, one that doesn’t lead to death but clings to the fragile hope of life.

  His mouth floats along my jaw and treads a soft path down to my collarbone. When his lips trail up again, they brush a sensitive spot on my neck. I laugh quietly and turn my head to control myself. Then my eyes land on two packs resting against the wall. They’re crammed full, straining at their seams. I grin at them, though I’m confused. “What is all that?”

  He glances past me. “Oh, um, a precaution against the dead. Turns out I’m not the best at fighting invisible people.” He winces, and his expression darkens. “It was much easier fighting Jules.”

  “Jules?” My heart plummets. “What happened?”

  Bastien rubs his forehead like he’s angry with himself for forgetting. “The Chained man didn’t leave the quarry. He went inside Jules’s body.”

  I stiffen. I didn’t realize a Chained soul could do that. I look down the mining shaft and bite my lip. I don’t know how deep it goes, but the soul bridge should be at the bottom. “I think I can do something to help. When I play the siren song, it should lure him out of her.�
��

  His brows draw together. “Is that the only way?”

  “I don’t see any other. If the Chained man stays trapped inside Jules, he’ll steal all her Light. He can’t be defeated until he’s ferried to the Underworld.” I squeeze Bastien’s hand. “I have to try.”

  His mouth sets in a firm line. “Then I’ll help you.”

  “No!” My eyes widen. “You can’t even see the dead.”

  “We’ve worked through that difficulty before.”

  “I can’t let . . .” My stomach twists. “What if you die because of me?”

  He shrugs. “It wouldn’t be the first time I was up against that worry.”

  “I’m serious, Bastien. This isn’t a good idea.”

  “Ailesse.” He takes me by the shoulders and kisses me softly. “I’m not leaving you. You’re worth the risk, do you hear me? You’re always going to be worth the risk.”

  I exhale slowly and fold myself against him.

  “Besides,” he whispers, pressing his lips against my neck, “I have four casks of black powder.”

  44

  Sabine

  I PACE THE STONES OF Castelpont and wring out my hands. I’ve already dug up my grace bones and tied them back onto my shoulder necklace. Ailesse’s amouré should return any moment. I’m waiting for the right time to take him captive. I need his map first.

  I rub my golden jackal pendant as I search the skies and nearby trees. The silver owl is gone. Is that significant? If it is, I don’t know why.

  I breathe in a clean minty smell and hear distant footsteps. I turn to the path leading to Dovré, and Cas comes around the bend. Cas. That’s what he asked me to call him. His full name is Casimir, and it suits him perfectly. I still can’t believe Ailesse’s amouré is someone so important. Actually, I can. He’s the kind of person I’ve always envisioned for her.

  “Hello again.” Cas grins warmly and joins me on the bridge.

  “Hello,” I reply, trying to squash the sudden butterflies in my stomach. I can’t think of him fondly when I’m about to deliver him to his death.

  “I’m ready.” He taps the hilt of a fine sword on his belt. A dagger is also holstered to his thigh.

  “And the map?”

  “Ah, yes.” He removes a folded sheet of parchment from his pocket, passes it over, and holds up a lantern so we can study it together.

  I unfold the map and examine the elaborate small-scale drawings on both sides. The first side shows a cutaway view of every level of the catacombs and mines. The second side is a bird’s-eye view of the four main levels, each sketched in separate rectangles that are stacked in a column. Everything is labeled in the language of Old Galle, which I can’t read. It takes me several moments to identify the paths I’ve already taken on the first and second levels. I didn’t know any others existed deeper down.

  “A few places appear to be chambers or larger quarries,” Cas says. “We should search those first.”

  I can’t stop staring at the fourth level. Unlike the angular tunnels above, the passageways here are serpentine, and the chambers on this level look more like inkblots than structured quarries. Maybe the fourth level is a web of caves. I point to a thicker line above a cavern that’s so deep I don’t know where it ends. “What do you think that is?” In the cutaway view of the map, the cavern’s sides run off the bottom edge of the parchment. I flip the map over to see the bird’s-eye view. Here, the thick line is a darkened strip running from one end of the cavern to the other.

  “A staircase?” Cas suggests.

  “No, stairs look like this.” I set my finger on a rectangle filled with lines for steps. I scrutinize the slightly waving edges of the darkened strip. “It could be a natural bridge.”

  Cas leans closer, squinting at it. “Except it leads to a dead end.”

  “True,” I reply, then notice tiny marks below the strip. Without my nighthawk vision, I wouldn’t be able to see their ultra-fine lines and minuscule detail. They’re symbols of a bridge and earth and full moon. Leurress symbols. I turn the map over and find the same marks by the bridge—it has to be a bridge, then. “Where did this map come from?”

  “I don’t know where it originated, but there’s a chest in the library of Beau Palais that’s filled with maps. We use them to plot strategy for small wars that break out across South Galle. A year or so ago, I found this one tucked inside one of the older maps.” Cas scratches his neck. “So do you recognize something that will help us?”

  I nibble on my lip. Tonight is a full moon, just like the symbol drawn next to the bridge. That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s where Ailesse will be—Bastien wouldn’t know anything about that place, and neither would she—but I have a strong feeling I can’t ignore. It’s the same feeling I had when Odiva told me twice that Ailesse was dead, and somehow I knew she was lying. Now the feeling says I need to go there. “Yes,” I answer.

  As soon as I’ve spoken the word, the silver owl emerges from the forest and flies past me. I start to smile—she’s confirming I’m right—but then she heads in a different direction than the ravine entrance of the catacombs. Is there a better way inside?

  “Show me,” Cas says.

  My finger moves to point to the bridge, but it never lands on the parchment. I’m distracted by a distant trampling of boots—many of them. I clutch Cas’s arm. “People are coming.”

  His brow furrows. “How do you know?”

  I shake my head, flustered and nervous. All my life I’ve been forbidden to let people outside of my famille see me. “We have to hide.”

  “No, wait. Look.” Cas watches the path to Dovré, and nine uniformed men come into view. “These are soldiers in my troop,” he explains. “It’s all right, Sabine. They can be trusted.”

  I take a closer look at each of them. The men have lanterns, like Cas, and several weapons among them. That makes me all the more distrusting. “Why have they come?”

  “To rescue Ailesse.” He frowns, confused by me. “She has three abductors, maybe more. I might be an excellent swordsman, but I’m not overconfident. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

  “No, they can’t come with us.” My voice is more abrasive than I intended. “I never agreed to that.” The last thing I need is for an audience of sword-wielding men to witness their friend being slaughtered by Ailesse. Or worse, prevent her.

  Cas crosses his arms. “Do you want to save Ailesse or not?”

  “Of course I do, but we have to be smart. A barrage of soldiers will ruin our chance to attack by surprise.”

  “Surprise can’t help us if we’re greatly outnumbered.”

  I ball my hands. “If we make so much noise that they know we’re coming, Ailesse will be dead by the time we find her.”

  Cas flinches when I say dead. His soldiers draw nearer to the bridge. He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Where is she being held, Sabine?” He glances at the map. “Is it that place you thought was a bridge?”

  I press my lips together and slightly avert my eyes. “No . . . the last time I saw her she was near the level right beneath the catacombs. Did you see how many tunnels are down there? You’d have to search for days before you found her, and by then she might be gone.”

  He considers me. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m coming with you.” I push my shoulders back. “And I won’t tell you where we’re going until we arrive. And I won’t even take you there if we’re going with them.” I tip my chin at his soldiers.

  Cas shifts on his feet. “Surely we can compromise. We have the same aim, after all.”

  I don’t want to, but he’s just as stubborn as I am. We can spend hours we don’t have arguing about this, or we can find a middle ground on our terms. Even with all my graces, I can’t incapacitate nine men before I take him captive.

  I eye the map again and spot a zigzagging staircase close to the bridge. It leads up past every tunnel level until it reaches a marked entrance outside. It looks like it’
s a little over three miles away from here. “Ask your men to give us a head start once we reach the catacombs. The entrance where we’re going isn’t far from our final destination,” I add, without pointing it out on the map. “It will give us a window of time to see if we really need the extra help.”

  He frowns. “Or it will give us an opportunity to be outnumbered and killed.”

  I shrug and stand taller. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take to protect Ailesse. Are you?”

  Cas rubs the side of his face, deliberating.

  The soldiers reach us on the arched bridge, and I squirm, uncomfortable to be around so many men when I’ve only lived among women.

  A young man with short-cropped hair steps forward, like he wants to speak to Cas, but then his gaze falls on me, and his brows lift.

  Cas chuckles, prodding his companion’s shoulder. “Yes, Briand, she’s pretty. You can close your mouth now.”

  Briand blinks and composes himself. “We’re, um, ready whenever you are.” He bows his head, but his eyes drift shyly back to me.

  Cas takes a deep breath. “Very well. I agree to your plan, Sabine.” His beautiful smile melts all my frustrations with him. “Let’s go and rescue Ailesse.”

  45

  Bastien

  I STAND IN THE TUNNEL and crank the wheel above the mine shaft until the last of the rope extends on the axle. I’m lowering Ailesse down to the level of the bridge first, to reserve her strength for ferrying.

  It’s pitch-black all around me. My lantern is hooked on to the end of the rope. It wasn’t long before its light faded completely.

  I wait a few moments and give the rope a tug. It’s still taut with Ailesse’s weight. Why hasn’t she let go? I don’t call her name. She wouldn’t hear me.

  I shift on my legs. I’m about to crank the wheel again to raise her back up, when the tension on the rope releases. She let go.

  Or she fell.

  My heart pounds. There’s no way to tell until I’m down there myself.

  I waste no time grabbing the rope and swinging into the shaft. I climb down as fast as possible. The rope is rough. After fifty feet, blisters start to form on my palms. After sixty feet, my muscles are on fire. I take controlled breaths and keep going. Seventy feet, eighty feet, ninety . . . The rope comes to an end. I secure my grip and look down. “Ailesse?” I shout. Sweat drips down my forehead. “Ailesse!”