He raised his eyebrows.
“I have seen letters between you and my mother. I know she was selling you the book.” I hesitated. “I think you know who I am. What I am.”
He nodded slowly.
“I want to know where my mother is. Where the book is. I want sanctuary from Milady and Ban Morin, and the lords who are planning the uprising with them. And I also want sanctuary from … from Ban Foley. I am prepared to offer my support to the Temple, so long as there is peace in Virelith, if you give me the information I seek.”
I felt the stuttering beat of my heart high in my throat, but kept my chin tilted up and my gaze defiant. The Pontiff leaned back very slowly in his chair.
“Interesting,” he said. “Do you understand what you are offering, my dear?”
My mouth was dry. I licked my lips. “Bone magic,” I said hoarsely.
The Pontiff became very still. “It is true, then?” he said. “I knew it was awakening—heard the rumors about you and what you can do—but I did not know …”
“It is true,” I said. “But until I can get into the catacombsand retrieve the book, I can’t truly understand the power or how to wield it fully.”
Not that I was certain seeing the book would help with controlling the bone magic at all, as I had no idea what was actually in it, but he didn’t have to know that. And he had undoubtedly read the spellbook and knew its contents and didn’t contradict me, which told me my mother really had been trying to resurrect and wield bone magic. I still couldn’t quite believe it.Thatwas her great work; the obsession that had shaped both our lives.
“And you intend to wield your magic for the Temple’s benefit?” the Pontiff was saying.
“I do. If you can give me the things I ask.”
“You understand that what you are suggesting is treason against the king,” he said conversationally, taking a sip of wine. “How do you know that I won’t turn you over to him at once for this little … attempted coup of yours? I am a loyal subject, after all.”
“I don’t think you are,” I said, holding his gaze. “And I don’t think you will.”
He smiled.
“Clever girl,” he said.
“But if I am to throw in my lot with you, you must tell me what passed between you and my mother. Everything.”
“Very well.” He tapped his fingernails on the wooden desk. They were very long, filed to smooth ovals. “Your mother wrote to me with a … proposal. I was of course familiar with her father’s research into bone magic, and when she showed me proof of her parentage I remembered Ban Edevane’s precocious daughter who had left in such disgrace. She told me she had discovered the secret to resurrecting bone magic, and had encased it in a spell and spellbook that would release it and allow it to be controlled by a suitable powerful mage.” He paused for a moment, andthen continued. “She was reluctant to deal with the Temple, but even her impressive skill was not enough to cast the spell she had written and bound so powerfully and well, and she needed me and my best mages to complete her work. I paid her handsomely, and arranged to collect it from her at the appointed time and place.”
“The Tower,” I whispered.
He grimaced. “That is where things went awry. My surviving guard told me that he arrived to witness some kind of altercation between yourself and your mother that he struggled to describe …”
“What?”
An altercation?
“… resulting in your mother somehow becoming sealed in the spellbook itself.”
I was shaking my head.
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember any of it.”
“Well, I was very intrigued to hear of a young mage with such power, and chastised my guard for leaving you there. He had been very shaken, of course—said his colleague was struggling with you, and after what he had seen of your fight with your mother, thought it best not to linger. We brought your spellbook back to the catacombs, to the Tomb of Kings, where we keep our most powerful volumes. All my best mages have tried to read and cast the spell since, with no success—and sometimes quite, ah, permanent consequences. I can only conclude that in sealing your mother in the book, you affected the efficacy of the spell. I assume that you are the only one able to free her again and make it usable once more.”
“But …” My head reeled. “I don’t know how I did that! I don’t remember any of it! And I certainly don’t know how to get her back out!”
“Well,” said the Pontiff smoothly, “all we can do is try.”
“So you need me to … bring my mother our of the book, somehow.”
“That is our first priority, yes. And then, of course, I’m sure we will find many other uses for you.”
