Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(112)

His eyes peel open. He rolls his head to see her.

The limestone groans. The fissures lengthen. Widen.

My heart rises up my throat. “Ailesse, move!”

She looks down. A deep clap of thunder rumbles. But there’s no lightning.

The side of the bridge breaks away—a foot-wide sliver down the length of it.

Ailesse falls.

“No!” I cry.

I release Casimir and sprint as fast as I can. Bastien crawls for Ailesse, rasping her name.

She catches herself on a rough handhold off the side of the bridge. I drop the ritual knife and snatch up the pouch with her grace bones. I don’t stop running. The strange energy Ailesse had when she fought our mother is gone.

She drags her upper body over the edge of the bridge and braces herself on her elbows. She shakes, hanging by her folded arms. Her jaw is set. Her eyes are riveted on Bastien’s.

Crack!

A two-foot chunk of limestone splits away from the bridge. It crashes against Ailesse’s leg, and she screams. Her arms scrape and slide off the edge. By some miracle, her hands find purchase. She clings on by her fingers.

Blood rushes through my head. “Don’t let go!”

Someone yanks Ailesse’s pouch from my grip. I spin around and face Cas. His sword is drawn and dangerously close to my chest. “Are you going to steal this like her mother did?”

“Give those back! The bones strengthen her.”

“Bones?”

There’s no time to explain. “Please, she needs them!”

Ailesse releases a terrible cry of exertion. Cas and I jerk around. Her dress is torn away at her left leg. Trails of blood drip from her injured knee. She whimpers and tugs herself up, hanging by her elbows once more.

“Ailesse . . .” Bastien’s voice is hoarse, but I hear him. Whatever he says is drowned by an oncoming battle cry.

Cas’s nine soldiers storm in through the tunnel, their swords raised. One man has a nocked bow and aims at Bastien. “Don’t shoot!” I say. “Cas, tell them to go! Ailesse needs my help!”

His face hardens. “Arrest Sabine!” he calls to his men.

He shoves past me. I chase after him. Bastien is closest to Ailesse and painstakingly crawls toward her.

Boots pounds and approach the foot of the bridge. “Stop!” I shout at the soldiers. “The bridge is too weak.” The middle section webs with more fissures. “You’ll break it!” I rush toward them to drive them away.

“I’m coming!” Cas yells to Ailesse.

The soldiers don’t halt. I run straight for their pointed swords. Before they skewer me, I hurtle into the air and jump over them with my nighthawk grace. Their eyes widen with shock.

I land, turn, and quickly scan for Ailesse. She’s completely dragged herself up onto the bridge. She claws toward Bastien. Her bloody leg streaks a path behind her.

The soldiers charge at me. I race several yards down the curving ledge to lead them farther away from the bridge. I allow the fastest man to catch up to me. I swiftly turn and leap over him. I draw strength and viciousness from the golden jackal and punch the man’s back where his kidneys are. He grunts sharply. His sword fumbles from his grip. I dive for it, but another soldier kicks it away.

I scramble backward and check Ailesse again. She never reached Bastien. She’s wrestling against Cas as he lifts her in his arms in a cradle hold.

I jump to my feet as more soldiers come near.

“Bastien!” A girl with straw-blond hair drops from an opening beside the tunnel. I gasp. She’s the same girl I fought at Castelpont.

Bastien’s face is disarmingly pale as he looks at her. Someone else falls through the opening. Bastien’s other friend. His lantern snuffs out as he tumbles onto the ground.

A burly soldier rushes at me. I grab a torch from the ledge wall. I swing it against the flat of his blade. It flies out of his grip.

Bastien’s friends are on the bridge and running toward him.

Two soldiers fan apart and lunge at me from my left and right. My torch windmills as I spin and kick and bash them away.

Bastien’s friends haul him up into their arms. His arms hang limply. He strains to look back at Ailesse. She desperately mouths his name. Her beating fists slow and stop pummeling Cas. Her eyelids flutter sluggishly. Her leg hasn’t stopped dripping blood. Her head falls onto his shoulder as she passes out.

My torch is knocked from my grip. A pair of rough hands comes around me. I thrash like an animal. Four more hands grab my limbs and force them still.

Jules and Marcel race off the bridge and carry Bastien into the tunnel.

I fight to free myself, but even my graced strength can’t outmatch five men.

The blood from Ailesse’s shattered knee soaks into Cas’s sleeve. He smooths back her hair, walks off the bridge, and looks at me with cold eyes.

My lip is curled. My teeth are bared. My heart pounds wildly. The jackal in me wants to murder him. I thrive on the bloodlust.

“Take off her necklace, too,” Cas commands his lead soldier.

Briand reaches for me. I vainly struggle as he unclasps the shoulder necklace. All my muscles turn to water.

My grace bones are gone.

The other soldiers let go. Briand hefts me up, carrying me as he follows Cas and his troop through the tunnel and up the long flights of stairs.

I’m still stunned by weakness by the time we climb out of the hatch. Briand sets me on my feet, but I struggle to stay upright. He’s about to pick me up again when a flash of feathers streaks across my vision.