“Ban Foley,” said one of the guards, relaxing his stance. The others glanced at their fellow sidelong, but dipped the heads of their weapons a little.
“I need to speak to the king,” he said. “At once.”
No matter how I felt about Patrick on any given day, I had to admit that, however irritating he could be, he did have a commanding presence when he chose to. The guards leapt to attention, despite the fact that his clothes were torn, and he was covered in blood and dust.
“Your wound,” I said. “You should get that tended to before you speak to the king.”
“It looks worse than it is,” he said. “Honestly.”
I eyed him skeptically. “Are you trying to impress me by being stoic?”
“A little. Is it working?”
“No. Go and clean up.”
“All right.”
He gave me a lopsided smile. His eyes were shadowed with petals of fatigue, and the skin around his lips was faintly blue. I felt he was worse off than he was letting on, and I was glad to see him stride into the palace, his gait only a little shaky. I felt a little shaky myself as I dismounted the bone bird. I patted one of its ribs, and it swung its immense head around to nudge me in a friendly sort of way. I didn’t quite know what to do with it.
An ostler hovered nearby. “Should I … should I take it to the stables, my lady?” he quavered, eyeing it apprehensively.
That was a thought. I suppressed a chuckle at the idea of my enormous skeletal mount happily munching on hay in a stall next to the king’s horses. I couldn’t imagine they would be too fond of the idea, even if the bone bird would fit in a stable.
“No, it’ll be all right here,” I said, hoping I was right. I supposed I could have dismantled it again, but something about the immense, empty eye sockets looked plaintive, pleading, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Besides, Baldbeak seemed to be getting attached.
I rubbed its bone beak. “You can fly up to the roof if you like,” I whispered. It seemed to understand me, spreading out its wings with a sound like gravel crunching under carriage wheels, and launched itself into the air. The ostler almost fell over backwards watching it take off. It made two lazy, curving swoops upwards, and settled itself on the crenellations overhead, grooming its nonexistent chest feathers with its beak.
“Baldbeak, can you go with it?” I said. “To make sure it’s safe.”
Which seemed like a ridiculous thing to say about a magical entity the size of a small house, but the bone bird had only been in existence for an hour, and I worried it might not know how to act like a bird if I wasn’t on its back directing it. Or that it might fly away. The city of Mirthwater had been through enough in one night, and it didn’t need to be terrorized further.
Of course, said Baldbeak, giving me a friendly nip. He flew after the bone bird. From down in the courtyard, it looked like he was admonishing it about something. The bone bird hung its head, looking chastened.
I left them both to their bird business and made my way to the palace entrance. The guards, clearly feeling they needed to dosomethinguseful if I didn’t require them to slay a dragon, lined up to let me pass as if I were a visiting dignitary. I entered the palace filthy, bedraggled, and twitching with the force of magic that threatened to burst from my skin … and saw Mieka running towards me.
“Mieka!” I hugged her tightly. Her curls tickled my nose.
“Where’s your bird?” she said into my ear.
“On the roof. With another bird. It’s a long story.”
“I found a friend of yours,” she said.
The Book Man appeared behind her, smiling. He was very thin, and his new spectacles were plain silver rather than red. His blue eyes, however, enormous behind the glass, were just the same. I released Mieka and embraced him.
“You made it here safely,” I cried happily.
“We need to get you cleaned up,” said Mieka, taking me in, head to foot. “What have you been doing?”
I gave a laugh that was almost a sob.
“Tell us later,” she said.
Mieka went with me to my rooms and then left me alone to bathe and change. The maid had readied a bath before the fire, and I sank completely under the bubbling surface of it, feeling my Hair coil softly about me. The water cradled me and made me feel held somehow, contained—less likely to come apart from the force of the magic pressing against my skin. I lingered there for a long time before I finally stepped out and dressed.
I called the maid and asked for sewing supplies, then sat cross-legged on the bed, hoping to calm my mind at least a little, but the bone needle I had selected flashed white-hot in my hand, burning me. I yelped and dropped it on the bed, where it lay sleek as a little snake and somehow just as threatening.
I hadfeltthe power surge to my fingertips. They hummed with it. My Hair stood out from my scalp, charged and fizzing as a storm cloud. I wrapped my arms around myself, tucking my hands under my armpits to ease the pain and buzzing. This new power would take some getting used to.
