Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(100)

I focus, and a slight haze appears, like a smudge on a pane of glass. “A little.”

“That’s Elara’s Gate, and the twirling shimmer above it is the spiral staircase to Paradise.” She smiles even bigger. “Paradise, Bastien,” she says again, like maybe I didn’t hear her.

“Oh.” That’s my best response at the moment. My mind can’t wrap around any of this.

My eyes travel to the high stone ceiling as I strain to see the shape of the stairs, but then I catch sight of something mysterious that I can see: a strip of dried clay that runs across the center of the ceiling. It’s identical to the shape and size of the soul bridge directly below, but the clay has crumbled away in a few spots and reveals tight rows of wooden planks and dangling roots in the spaces between them.

I frown. Plants don’t grow in the mines or the catacombs. Which means right above this cavern is the outside world—dirt, sky, fresh air. Someone’s patched up a natural opening in the ceiling.

Ailesse clutches the pouch of grace bones around her neck and shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m here—that I’m actually seeing these Gates with my own eyes. They’re even more wonderful than the ones I imagined at the land bridge.”

I don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t call them wonderful. My father had to pass through a Gate like one of these.

She stiffens and gasps. “Do you hear that?”

I whip out my knife. “Where are they?”

“No, not the dead.” She smiles. “Another siren song. It’s coming from inside the Gates.”

I lean a little closer to the pit. “I can’t hear anything.”

She blinks slowly, her gaze lost as she listens to music that doesn’t reach my ears. “The deeper melody comes from the Underworld, but the descant rises above it from Paradise. Each part is so different, but they perfectly complement each other—one dark and one hopeful.”

I watch her as she stands, listless like she’s caught in a daydream. I clear my throat. “I’m sure all of this is amazing, but you need to get ready. A Chained soul could fly in here any moment.”

“Souls don’t fly,” she replies absently. “That’s a myth.”

“Still, you—”

Her eyes dart past me, and she’s instantly alert. “Chained!” she cries. “On your left!”

My knife swings, but I strike nothing.

“He’s on the bridge now.” She steadies her feet. “Stay back!”

She starts battling the Chained with a quick and varied series of kicks. I struggle against a fierce instinct to run to her side. She dodges blows I can’t see. She ducks and cartwheels along the side of the bridge. I begin to relax, watching how focused and skillful she is.

Damn, she’s beautiful when she fights.

“Your time here is over,” she tells the Chained. She whirls around and drives her fist into the force of a tangible body. As she continues to attack, she pushes the soul back to the end of the bridge. She delivers a final kick, this one stronger than the rest, and the black dust scatters and re-forms into an arched door.

She turns to me, her brows lifted in shock. “I did it.”

I grin. “Well done.”

She rubs her arm. “It would be easier with a staff. That’s how the Leurress are trained to ferry.”

“You’re doing just fine without one,” I say. Then I notice she’s panting, with beads of sweat on her forehead. She didn’t tire this easily when she fought the Chained man in the quarry. But then again, moonlight and starlight were shining down on her through the aviary dome.

“More are coming!” Her eyes dart around the cavern. “All of them Chained. One from the shaft. Two from the tunnel.”

The tunnel? I turn and quickly examine the wall behind my ledge. Sure enough, a tunnel leads out from a shadowy area next to the opening of the mining shaft. I race over to it, my knife raised, but a sharp blow to my stomach knocks me off my feet. “Bastien!” Ailesse cries. I fly backward and skid several feet across the ledge.

“I’m fine.” I cough and push back up to my feet. But she isn’t. From the way Ailesse twists back and forth—kicking, jabbing, punching—she’s already battling at least two more Chained.

I sprint for the bridge. I’m barely on it when I bump into something. “What are you doing here?” a man’s voice growls. “This isn’t your fight.”

I immediately plant my feet. Just as quickly, I slash my knife forward. My blade hits resistance, and I stab hard. The man hisses, drawing back. I keep striking. I parry, lunge, duck, and spin. I use every skill I’ve practiced, every varied formation, and force him backward. It seems to be working. I’m halfway across the bridge, and Ailesse has moved near the Gates.

She’s only fighting one Chained now. The other she must have already ferried to the Underworld. I swing my knife again, but the air before me is empty. I hurry forward several steps, but I still can’t figure out where my opponent went.

Ailesse makes a noise of exertion. She’s whirling back and forth, battling in front of and behind herself. Merde. The man who left me is attacking her. I run, but she shouts, “Stay back, Bastien!”

I stop a few yards away, but I can’t make myself leave.