Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(97)

I breathe in a clean minty smell and hear distant footsteps. I turn to the path leading to Dovré, and Cas comes around the bend. Cas. That’s what he asked me to call him. His full name is Casimir, and it suits him perfectly. I still can’t believe Ailesse’s amouré is someone so important. Actually, I can. He’s the kind of person I’ve always envisioned for her.

“Hello again.” Cas grins warmly and joins me on the bridge.

“Hello,” I reply, trying to squash the sudden butterflies in my stomach. I can’t think of him fondly when I’m about to deliver him to his death.

“I’m ready.” He taps the hilt of a fine sword on his belt. A dagger is also holstered to his thigh.

“And the map?”

“Ah, yes.” He removes a folded sheet of parchment from his pocket, passes it over, and holds up a lantern so we can study it together.

I unfold the map and examine the elaborate small-scale drawings on both sides. The first side shows a cutaway view of every level of the catacombs and mines. The second side is a bird’s-eye view of the four main levels, each sketched in separate rectangles that are stacked in a column. Everything is labeled in the language of Old Galle, which I can’t read. It takes me several moments to identify the paths I’ve already taken on the first and second levels. I didn’t know any others existed deeper down.

“A few places appear to be chambers or larger quarries,” Cas says. “We should search those first.”

I can’t stop staring at the fourth level. Unlike the angular tunnels above, the passageways here are serpentine, and the chambers on this level look more like inkblots than structured quarries. Maybe the fourth level is a web of caves. I point to a thicker line above a cavern that’s so deep I don’t know where it ends. “What do you think that is?” In the cutaway view of the map, the cavern’s sides run off the bottom edge of the parchment. I flip the map over to see the bird’s-eye view. Here, the thick line is a darkened strip running from one end of the cavern to the other.

“A staircase?” Cas suggests.

“No, stairs look like this.” I set my finger on a rectangle filled with lines for steps. I scrutinize the slightly waving edges of the darkened strip. “It could be a natural bridge.”

Cas leans closer, squinting at it. “Except it leads to a dead end.”

“True,” I reply, then notice tiny marks below the strip. Without my nighthawk vision, I wouldn’t be able to see their ultra-fine lines and minuscule detail. They’re symbols of a bridge and earth and full moon. Leurress symbols. I turn the map over and find the same marks by the bridge—it has to be a bridge, then. “Where did this map come from?”

“I don’t know where it originated, but there’s a chest in the library of Beau Palais that’s filled with maps. We use them to plot strategy for small wars that break out across South Galle. A year or so ago, I found this one tucked inside one of the older maps.” Cas scratches his neck. “So do you recognize something that will help us?”

I nibble on my lip. Tonight is a full moon, just like the symbol drawn next to the bridge. That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s where Ailesse will be—Bastien wouldn’t know anything about that place, and neither would she—but I have a strong feeling I can’t ignore. It’s the same feeling I had when Odiva told me twice that Ailesse was dead, and somehow I knew she was lying. Now the feeling says I need to go there. “Yes,” I answer.

As soon as I’ve spoken the word, the silver owl emerges from the forest and flies past me. I start to smile—she’s confirming I’m right—but then she heads in a different direction than the ravine entrance of the catacombs. Is there a better way inside?

“Show me,” Cas says.

My finger moves to point to the bridge, but it never lands on the parchment. I’m distracted by a distant trampling of boots—many of them. I clutch Cas’s arm. “People are coming.”

His brow furrows. “How do you know?”

I shake my head, flustered and nervous. All my life I’ve been forbidden to let people outside of my famille see me. “We have to hide.”

“No, wait. Look.” Cas watches the path to Dovré, and nine uniformed men come into view. “These are soldiers in my troop,” he explains. “It’s all right, Sabine. They can be trusted.”

I take a closer look at each of them. The men have lanterns, like Cas, and several weapons among them. That makes me all the more distrusting. “Why have they come?”

“To rescue Ailesse.” He frowns, confused by me. “She has three abductors, maybe more. I might be an excellent swordsman, but I’m not overconfident. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“No, they can’t come with us.” My voice is more abrasive than I intended. “I never agreed to that.” The last thing I need is for an audience of sword-wielding men to witness their friend being slaughtered by Ailesse. Or worse, prevent her.

Cas crosses his arms. “Do you want to save Ailesse or not?”

“Of course I do, but we have to be smart. A barrage of soldiers will ruin our chance to attack by surprise.”

“Surprise can’t help us if we’re greatly outnumbered.”

I ball my hands. “If we make so much noise that they know we’re coming, Ailesse will be dead by the time we find her.”