Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(76)

He turns his head partway and smiles. “For one night we can afford more light.”

This is another gift for me, I realize, and I find myself gazing softly at him. The smallest tremble runs through his hand as he closes the lid of his tinderbox. He’s still acting nervous, which is adorable because it’s so unlike his usual confidence. “There’s food if you want it.” He angles around, but only far enough to tip his chin at the food he’s laid out on a blanket for us. He hasn’t looked at me directly since I came back from bathing.

“Thank you.” I linger a moment longer until I feel a splash of water hit my feet. My dripping hair is forming a puddle around me. I move to the edge of the pit and lean over to wring my hair out. It’s then I catch Bastien finally looking at me. I freeze and hold my breath. His eyes are timid, almost fearful, as they sweep over my dress and gradually lift to my face. My chest flutters, and I straighten, smoothing out the folds of my skirt. “The dress fits perfectly,” I say.

He swallows. “I noticed.” The tinderbox rattles in his hand as he places it on the ledge. He releases a steadying exhale and goes to sit on the blanket. He plucks a small red fruit from a clay bowl.

“Wild strawberries?” I grin and come to sit across from him. So far we’ve subsisted on a diet of bread, cheese, and dry strips of salted meat.

“I found them growing along the road. I thought maybe you’d like them.”

I take a few from the bowl and bite into one. A moan of pleasure escapes me at the burst of flavor after such bland food. “That’s probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

A smile teases the corner of Bastien’s mouth.

I chew and swallow two more strawberries. “I’ve been thinking about the engravings on the bone flute. They might help us break our bond.”

“How?” He sits up taller. We’ve been doing our best to find a way, but we don’t have Marcel’s books or his brilliance, and nothing I’ve shared about my famille has gotten us any closer.

I tuck a lock of wet hair behind my ear. “Well, each side of the flute has slightly different symbols. Look.” I reach for a stick of charcoal in a little tin against the wall, then scoot beside Bastien. I pull back a corner of the wool blanket. On the limestone floor beneath, I sketch an arch that looks like an upside-down crescent moon, and then draw an inverted triangle on top of it.

“That represents water.” I point to the triangle. “All together, this is the symbol of the soul bridge—the land bridge that emerges from the sea. I told Marcel that much, but he didn’t notice the corresponding symbol of the new moon—a solid circle. It’s above the tone holes, not below them.” I draw the circle and space the symbols apart. “I think the new moon is engraved on the flute to show what time the soul bridge can be used, which makes sense, because that’s when the Leurress ferry.”

Bastien chews on his lip. “And that’s connected to our soul-bond?”

“Not exactly. But the symbols on the back of the flute might be.” I sketch the symbol of the soul bridge again, except this one has a horizontal line running across the middle of the inverted triangle. Above that, I draw a circle that’s not shaded in and set my finger on it. “That’s the symbol of the full moon.”

He nods. “When a Bone Crier can summon her soulmate with the flute, right?”

“Yes, but what’s strange is that this segmented triangle means earth.” I point to it. “How many bridges can you think of that have earth beneath them and not water?”

Bastien’s brow furrows. “Only Castelpont.”

“Exactly. And I chose that bridge, out of all the bridges in South Galle, for my rite of passage. I didn’t realize it had any special significance, but it must have if it’s engraved on the bone flute.”

Bastien scratches his head. “I’m still not sure how any of this is connected to our soul-bond.”

“Why? Castelpont is where our soul-bond was formed.”

“But does that mean the bridge is what formed it?” He studies my confused expression. “Think about the land bridge, for starters. From what you’ve told me, the dead are lured there because that’s where the siren song is played. You also said the reason the dead are lured to you is because you were the one to play the song—at least with the more powerful bone flute.”

I nod, wondering what all of this has to do with what I’ve been talking about.

“Have you considered that what really forged our bond was also the song and not the bridge?” He spreads his hands open. “Maybe the bridge wasn’t essential to the magic.”

I sit back and drop my stick of charcoal. “I don’t know. Bridges are deeply sown into everything it is to be a Leurress. They symbolize the connection between the world of the living and the world of the dead, and Ferriers are a part of that link. They’re just as important as the bridge itself in taking souls to the Beyond. Bridges even represent our bodies during rites of passage. That’s why a Leurress must bury her grace bones at the foundations of a bridge so the gods can channel her energy to match her to her amouré—and that’s why her amouré comes to that same bridge to look for her.”

“But it’s still not the bridge that ultimately cements the bond, right?” Bastien gestures at my drawings. “You’re saying the bone flute has these symbols on it to show what times it can be used—either to ferry souls or to call a soulmate. But if a Leurress can use any bridge for her rite of passage, why would the flute depict a bridge over earth? That would mean she couldn’t use the flute anywhere else except Castelpont. But the Leurress do use the flute at other bridges—bridges over water. At least the bridge my father was on was over water when I saw him . . .” Bastien’s voice cracks, and he masks it by coughing.