A killer who knew exactly who I was.
Out in the corridor, Kael tried to keep a cool demeanor as we hurried down the staircase, hallway, then another winding set of stairs, leading toward the Stav Guard wings.
Kael paused outside a door. Behind it, muffled voices gave up at least two other people in the room. “You must keep quiet. We don’t want a panic. He was…he wasn’t supposed to be there.”
I spared a glance at Hilda and Emi, but nodded and followed Kael into the room.
My pulse froze.
Blood-soaked linens covered a bed. Edvin moved about gathering supplies, cursing and pleading to the gods all in the same breath. Roark was hunched over the man on the bed, holding wounds closed with his bare hands. Sprawled on his back, tunic shredded over his bloodied chest, Prince Thane was unmoving, too still, too pale.
“Thane.” Emi rushed to the bedside of the prince.
Her cry drew Roark’s attention. In his eyes was a look of pure fear. In three steps the Sentry was in front of me, bloody fingers waving in a panicked plea I couldn’t follow.
I clasped Roark’s fingers; blood—the prince’s—was slick on my palms.
“Roark,” I whispered gently. “Slow down. What do you need me to do?”
He blinked through his haze, swallowing with effort, then lifted a trembling hand.Soul bone.
It was then I took note of a basket—taken from the king’s stores, no doubt, and filled to the brim with pale bones.
“For Prince Thane?” To heal him, the way it had healed Kael.
Roark’s mouth tightened. He gave me a stiff nod.
“Yes,” I said, squeezing his hand still locked in mine. “Of course.”
The Sentry did not approve of soul bones—to ask it meant he truly believed the prince would not survive without one.
“Edvin.” I knelt beside the prince’s bed, taking up a shard. “Will you mark it?”
He didn’t hesitate. His ability to bend and manipulate bone grooved new rune etchings into the flat piece of bone, symbols to summon the essence of the soul who’d left their bones behind. When the edges burned in the familiar gold, I pressed the bone into one of the many wounds over Thane’s chest.
I let out a rough gasp when golden threads burst from the edges of the shard like iridescent yarn. Hands on the prince, I began to stitch it in place, sinking the piece deeper toward his breastbone under the blood, the sinews, and torn muscle.
I stitched the strands until darkness pulled me away.
Fear did not come when black water dripped down the rotted walls of the space.
Soon, Edvin’s form glowed with his frantic steps, and Kael’s gilded body didn’t move, a silent observer, but his arms were folded in a way that had me convinced he was gnawing on the nail of his thumb. On the opposite side of the bed, a glowing Hilda and Emi had taken up the positions of Kael and Edvin, likely manipulating any broken bones on the prince while I melded.
Silky shadows draped over my shoulders. Cold and smoke filled my lungs.
He was there. I didn’t need to turn around to know it. I ignored the ominous presence of whatever piece of Skul Drek stood at my back.
Was he like me? Able to slip into this plane when soul bones were used? Was he a true demon, a spectral sent by cruel gods?
“I don’t know how you cross realms. I don’t know if you’re a melder—”
The shadow hissed in disgust.
“It doesn’t matter,” I went on, voice rough. “But you attacked a good man. A kind man.”
My fingers worked quickly, securing the soul bone against Thane’s chest. When all the stitches were placed, I cupped both palms over the top, embracing the heat under my skin. The bones brightened as the edges grew molten, fusing into Prince Thane’s natural bone.
I sat back on my knees once the heat faded, glaring over my shoulder.
