Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(55)

He pushes up onto his elbows. Blinks slowly at where Ailesse should be. “Oh.”

“Oh?” I pace and try not to bite off his head. I know exactly how this happened. “Show me that small knife you carry.”

He reaches under his cloak, and his face blanches. “It’s gone. The bone flute, too.”

I kick a shard of the pitcher.

Jules turns incredulous eyes on her brother. “How did you let Ailesse get that close?”

He lies back down and shakes his head. “I’m the one who got close to her. Ailesse told me about the symbols on the flute and . . . she said she was trying to help.” He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Tonight is the new moon, too.” He groans. “Her ferrying night. She practically spelled it out to me. I’m a fool.”

I sigh. Marcel isn’t entirely to blame. I saw him sitting right beside her. I didn’t ask him to move away. “We’ve all been fools.”

Jules looks affronted. “Excuse me? I wasn’t here. Don’t blame me for—” She frowns. “What are you doing?”

I cinch the strap of my sheath harness on my back. My father’s knife presses against my spine. I’ll make this right, I promise him.

I grab an oil lamp. Kick the door open. Duck outside and charge into the dark of the catacombs. Ailesse is still here. She has to be. I couldn’t have been sleeping for more than a half hour, and this place is a labyrinth.

Jules bursts out of the chamber. “Wait!” Her hazel eyes glitter in the light of the lamp she’s just snatched up. “You have to think. Ailesse has all her bones now. We need a proper plan. We’re not prepared for—”

“I’m not letting her get away.” My throat tightens. I saved her from the pit. Didn’t that mean anything to her?

You also tied her up again, Bastien.

“I’m coming, too!” Marcel rushes to join us.

I stiffen when I see the bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. “No one kills Ailesse, is that clear?”

Jules narrows her eyes. “Are you worried about your life or hers?”

“What difference is there?” I snap. She flinches and takes a step back from me. My shoulders fall when I see her eyes are watering. I’ve only seen Jules cry twice before—six years ago, when I caught her weeping at her father’s grave, and a little over two months ago, when I told her we just needed to be friends. I reach out and touch her arm. “You know what I mean, Jules.”

Her nostrils flare, and she shoves my hand away. “Nothing is clearer. We may have to guard your precious soulmate’s life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make her suffer.” She yanks her knife from her belt. “I, for one, haven’t forgotten my mission.” She marches past me to take the lead, furiously wiping at her eyes.

I blow out a heavy breath and follow.

Marcel sidles up to me once Jules has outdistanced us by several feet. We rush along, trying to keep up with her. “Sometimes I think she really could kill Ailesse,” he murmurs.

“Come on, Marcel. She wouldn’t do that.” We duck our heads to dodge a low section of the ceiling.

“But would you?” His voice takes on a nervous edge. “I mean, now that you know Ailesse? Assuming the soul-bond wasn’t a component, of course.”

I rub an uncomfortable stitch in my side. Ailesse could have killed me tonight, but she didn’t—even though she had Marcel’s knife and her grace bones. “What about you?” I throw his question back at him, and he frowns. It’s a stupid thing to say. Marcel never trained to be the tool of our revenge. Jules and I never wanted him to get blood on his hands.

A dull splash sounds ahead where the tunnel is flooded. Jules has jumped into the water.

I clap Marcel on the back. “We need to hurry. At the rate Jules is going, she’ll cross half of Galle before we even get out of these tunnels.”

We trudge onward, moving as fast as we can. We slip through the cracks of hidden paths and comb at least a dozen routes Ailesse could have taken.

She’s nowhere.

A horrible thought takes hold of me.

Her grace bones are helping her escape.

I don’t know which animals give Ailesse her power, but I do know that most have an uncanny sense of direction—birds, dogs, cats. She was blindfolded when we came here, but she has to have a buried memory of the path we took to our chamber. Her grace bones could have helped her remember.

I come to a sudden stop. “Jules!” I shout. Marcel bumps into me from behind.

Her faint ring of lamplight stills ahead, then slowly bobs back to me. She’s sheathed her knife again. A good sign?

“Ailesse isn’t here,” I say.

Jules arches a brow. “How can you be sure?”

I hesitate. She’ll hate my answer. I give it anyway. “I feel it.” Maybe it’s the soul-bond. Maybe it’s just a gut instinct. Whatever it is, it feels urgent and pulse-pounding.

Jules presses her lips together. She nods with bitter acceptance that borders on ridicule. “So what do we do now?” She tosses her braided hair behind her shoulder. “Ailesse could be anywhere.”

“I don’t think so. Her family is ferrying souls tonight on that land bridge she told Marcel about. She must have gone back to help them.”