Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(86)

I HOP DOWN FROM THE limestone and hurry over to Bastien and Jules. “We need to leave. We’ll be safer once we’re deeper in the catacombs.”

Bastien has Jules’s head in his lap. He rattles her. She won’t open her eyes, but at least she’s breathing.

“Bastien, please.” I grab his arm.

He takes in my pensive expression. “Is the Chained man still here?”

“He disappeared.” I shiver. “We have to go before he comes back.”

He swallows and nods. “Right.”

He starts to heft up Jules. I try to help him, but he angles away. “I’ve got her,” he says, and leads the way as we rush out of the quarry. He doesn’t take the tunnel toward his hideout under Chapelle du Pauvre.

“Where are we going?” I ask, holding the lantern near him so he can see into the darkness.

“Our old catacombs chamber.” He climbs over some fallen debris. “I’m betting that’s where Marcel is.”

Our journey lengthens through the branching tunnels, and Bastien starts panting.

“I can carry Jules,” I offer again. “I have my graces back.”

“No.” He lowers his brows. “Please, Ailesse, let me do this. It’s my fault . . .” He shakes his head, and his eyes fill with pain as he looks at her.

We finally arrive at our old chamber. Bastien kicks open the door by the wall of skulls.

Marcel’s sitting at the overturned cart table with a pile of open books. He glances up, and his face brightens. “Bastien! Ailesse!” Then he sees his sister and blanches. “What happened?”

“A Chained man attacked her.” Bastien barges inside. “Sliced her arm and nearly choked her to death.”

I grab a blanket and spread it on the ground. Bastien lays Jules on it and applies pressure to her bleeding arm.

Marcel stares at us, aghast. “He choked her with chains?”

“No. He was a dead man,” Bastien says. He looks at me, and I quickly explain how the gods mark evil souls.

“Is Jules going to be all right?” Marcel asks.

“Yes.” The edge to Bastien’s voice is so sharp it dares either one of us to disagree. “Bring me some water.”

I’m immediately on my feet. I step toward the bucket by the shelves, but Marcel is closer. I move out of his way as he rushes it back to Bastien. Both boys are hovering over Jules now. Bastien splashes a little water on her face. “Come on, Jules.” He slaps her cheeks twice, and I wince. “Come on!” His voice breaks. “You’re tougher than this. You’re not allowed to die on me.”

My eyes blur with threatening tears as he desperately tries to wake her. This is what it would feel like if I lost Sabine.

Jules’s chest rises and falls more shallowly. Then it stills.

Marcel covers his mouth. Bastien’s shoulders hitch up. He buries his head in her stomach. I step closer, my throat aching. I want to fold my arms around him.

Just as I reach out to touch him, Jules’s eyes fly open. She inhales a ragged breath.

I flinch back. Bastien jolts upright. Marcel’s head sags forward in relief.

“What are you all staring at?” Jules asks, her voice frail.

Bastien bursts into warm laughter. He kisses her three times on her forehead.

I grin, though a stitch of pain forms in my chest. Their deep affection makes me miss Sabine even more. I place a hand on Bastien’s shoulder. “I’ll find something to dress her arm with.”

He tosses me a grateful smile.

I walk to the wall of shelves and look through the supplies. A roll of clean fabric is tucked behind a small pot of crushed herbs.

“I’m sorry I left you,” Jules murmurs to Bastien.

I smell the herbs. Yarrow. Good for wounds.

“Tu ne me manque pas. Je ne te manque pas.”

I freeze.

My heart thuds slowly as I turn around.

He’s holding Jules’s hand the same way he held mine when he spoke those same words to me. The words his father said to him. I thought they were sacred, a gift Bastien only shared with me.

He brings Jules’s knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “You were never missing from me, Jules.”

A rush of weakness trembles through my knees. I have to sit down.

I stumble to a corner of the room. Then I realize it’s the corner with the limestone slab. My chest tightens, and I move to sit at the table instead. I set down the fabric and yarrow and take steadying breaths.

Bastien and Jules fall deep in conversation. He laughs at something she says and smooths her hair off her face. A hollow ache carves through me.

You’ve been deceiving yourself, Ailesse. He could never love you as much as he loves her.

I should be used to feeling second best; my mother always favored Sabine.

Marcel wanders over and sits across from me with a lazy smile on his face. “Can you believe we’re all back together again?” he asks, like I’m a tight-knit part of their family, and the three of them never abducted me. “Too bad Jules and I haven’t found a way to break the soul-bond yet, but we’ve had a real adventure all these days without you.”

“Oh, yes?” I absently flip through one of his books, trying to keep my eyes off Bastien. Now Jules is laughing with him.

“We found all sorts of new and interesting hideouts in Dovré. Bastien almost found us one time, so Jules and I decided to move back down here. We’ve been in this chamber all this last week.”