Every time he died again it was harder to take.This can’t go on,she thought. Not emotionally. And not practically, since she was out of talismans. She couldn’t steal more bones without them.
Jentt had joked, but he was right: they needed a natural disaster. Nothing else would provide both the quantity of bones she needed and enough chaos to steal them. But it was too terrible to hope for the deaths of many to save the life of one, and as badly as she missed Jentt, she couldn’t wish that fate on anyone.
I don’t want anyone to have to feel like this.
There had been so much loss already. She’d seen it firsthand twenty-five years ago. In the Bone War. Hundreds had died at the hands of Eklor’s grotesque army before Kreya and Jentt’s team began their final attack.We’ve already had a war in my lifetime. I’d never wish for another.
So much death.
So many bones,she thought.
“Don’t think about that,” Kreya warned herself.
It wasn’t a new idea, but it was a bad one. When she’d first started down this path to save Jentt, she’d promised herself to never consider it. She’d bring him back with bits of stolen bone from nearby villages instead—which was exactly what she’d been doing ever since she’d cracked the secret.
But that was before she’d used up all her talismans. And before she’d nearly been caught.
Before those bones were no longer available to her.
She opened her eyes. The stars speckled the sky, and the mountains were full of shadows. In the war, hundreds had died, and their bodies had rotted on the plains beyond the mountains. Due to the severity of Eklor’s infraction, it was ruled illegal to venture onto the plains, even to burn the dead. The guild master supported this, both in words and in action—by funding the construction of a vast wall and assisting in supplying it with armed guards, in perpetuity. Eklor had been one of their own, before “the unfortunate incident” (as the guild phrased it), or before he became a homicidal maniac (as Kreya would have put it), and Kreya suspected the guild had donated a lot of gold in the aftermath to deflect blame and assuage guilt. Also, to keep ordinary people from realizing the depths to which he’d sunk—and the full extent of the horrors that an immoral bone maker with enough skill could commit.
They figured it out anyway,Kreya thought.
Regardless, the law remained: it was punishable by death to cross into the so-called “forbidden zone.”
“A bit of an on-the-nose name,” she said out loud.
The rag dolls crooned as if they’d understood her.
“Do you think Guild Master Lorn drops his voice an octave when he mentions it? ‘My friends, we need to guard’”—Kreya lowered her voice—“‘the forbidden zone!’ ‘Be afeared of’”—low voice again—“‘the forbidden zone!’ He absolutely says ‘afeared.’ And all his sycophants nod along and then send more soldiers to guard the dead. Asshole. Those people deserved for their ashes to rest in their own Cliffs of the Dead. Their families should have gotten proper goodbyes.” It was the guild master’s cowardice that had prevented them from having the peace they deserved.
Which meant that the bones were still there, even after twenty-five years, waiting for her.
She knew Jentt would agree with her about the guild master. She also knew he would hate what she was thinking about doing. He never wanted her to risk herself.
One of the rag dolls let out a trill, to signify they’d finished rewrapping her husband. And as if the finality of that act signaled the start of a new one, Kreya made the decision to cross yet another line she’d sworn never to cross. “Sorry, Jentt. But that asshole’s cowardice might save your life. And besides, if I get myself killed, you won’t ever know.”
Pivoting, Kreya strode past her husband’s linen-wrapped body without looking at him.
A little voice inside whispered,This is a stupid idea. That same little voice had told her not to keep the books that let her save Jentt. It had told her not to study them, not to steal her first bone, not to pervert nature by violating the permanence of death. By now, she was an expert at ignoring it.
What she couldn’t ignore was the fact that if she was going to cross the mountains and sneak past the guild’s soldiers over the barrier wall, she’d need power. Lots of it.
Her first step had to be to acquire more talismans. In truth, that had to be the first step in any plan. Even if she wanted to continue stealing shards of bone from nearby villages, she’d need new talismans.If I get to the wall and chicken out, they’ll still be useful,she thought, climbing the stairs to the library.
Crossing to her desk, she checked her stash of gold: pathetic.
“Can’t buy them.” Besides, even if she had enough to buy from the traveling merchants that crisscrossed the mountains, the quality wouldn’t be as high as the ones she’d had—the ones made by her old friend Zera. The majority of bone wizards created talismans that only lasted for short spurts, but Zera... Her talismans could weather multiple uses and be used for sustained lengths of time before they cracked. She was an artist.
Years ago, Zera had been their team’s own bone wizard, supplying them with a steady stream of talismans, culled from nearly every animal imaginable and carved with elaborate spells of her invention. She’d also been Kreya’s closest friend.
Had been. Past tense.
“Maybe it’s time for a reunion.”
The bird construct whirred behind her.
“You’ll have to keep watch over the tower while I’m gone. Keep watch over Jentt. It’ll take me a few days to reach Cerre.” Zera lived on the fifth tier of the city. Or she had. It was possible that Zera had moved. Or died. But Kreya didn’t think that was likely. “I’d have heard. Zera’s a famous hero, after all. People love to gossip about famous heroes.”
