Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace #1)(98)

Cas flinches when I say dead. His soldiers draw nearer to the bridge. He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Where is she being held, Sabine?” He glances at the map. “Is it that place you thought was a bridge?”

I press my lips together and slightly avert my eyes. “No . . . the last time I saw her she was near the level right beneath the catacombs. Did you see how many tunnels are down there? You’d have to search for days before you found her, and by then she might be gone.”

He considers me. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m coming with you.” I push my shoulders back. “And I won’t tell you where we’re going until we arrive. And I won’t even take you there if we’re going with them.” I tip my chin at his soldiers.

Cas shifts on his feet. “Surely we can compromise. We have the same aim, after all.”

I don’t want to, but he’s just as stubborn as I am. We can spend hours we don’t have arguing about this, or we can find a middle ground on our terms. Even with all my graces, I can’t incapacitate nine men before I take him captive.

I eye the map again and spot a zigzagging staircase close to the bridge. It leads up past every tunnel level until it reaches a marked entrance outside. It looks like it’s a little over three miles away from here. “Ask your men to give us a head start once we reach the catacombs. The entrance where we’re going isn’t far from our final destination,” I add, without pointing it out on the map. “It will give us a window of time to see if we really need the extra help.”

He frowns. “Or it will give us an opportunity to be outnumbered and killed.”

I shrug and stand taller. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take to protect Ailesse. Are you?”

Cas rubs the side of his face, deliberating.

The soldiers reach us on the arched bridge, and I squirm, uncomfortable to be around so many men when I’ve only lived among women.

A young man with short-cropped hair steps forward, like he wants to speak to Cas, but then his gaze falls on me, and his brows lift.

Cas chuckles, prodding his companion’s shoulder. “Yes, Briand, she’s pretty. You can close your mouth now.”

Briand blinks and composes himself. “We’re, um, ready whenever you are.” He bows his head, but his eyes drift shyly back to me.

Cas takes a deep breath. “Very well. I agree to your plan, Sabine.” His beautiful smile melts all my frustrations with him. “Let’s go and rescue Ailesse.”





45


Bastien


I STAND IN THE TUNNEL and crank the wheel above the mine shaft until the last of the rope extends on the axle. I’m lowering Ailesse down to the level of the bridge first, to reserve her strength for ferrying.

It’s pitch-black all around me. My lantern is hooked on to the end of the rope. It wasn’t long before its light faded completely.

I wait a few moments and give the rope a tug. It’s still taut with Ailesse’s weight. Why hasn’t she let go? I don’t call her name. She wouldn’t hear me.

I shift on my legs. I’m about to crank the wheel again to raise her back up, when the tension on the rope releases. She let go.

Or she fell.

My heart pounds. There’s no way to tell until I’m down there myself.

I waste no time grabbing the rope and swinging into the shaft. I climb down as fast as possible. The rope is rough. After fifty feet, blisters start to form on my palms. After sixty feet, my muscles are on fire. I take controlled breaths and keep going. Seventy feet, eighty feet, ninety . . . The rope comes to an end. I secure my grip and look down. “Ailesse?” I shout. Sweat drips down my forehead. “Ailesse!”

“Bastien!”

Relief floods me. Her voice is muffled by thick air, but she can’t be very far away. I notice a dim ring of light below—the end of the shaft.

“Jump when you reach the end of the rope!” she says.

I climb down a little farther until I’m hanging by the hook. I let go without thinking twice. I trust her.

The fall isn’t long; I don’t need to drop into a roll from the impact of landing. A moment after my feet hit the ground, Ailesse’s hand weaves through mine. I kiss her before taking a look around us. “Do you see the bridge?” I ask. We’re not closed in by tunnel walls anymore; this space is wider. She holds up the lantern. A few feet ahead, the edge of the ground falls away into a dark void.

“I think so.” She leads me twenty or so yards around the curving edge of the pit. Solid circles representing the full moon are engraved on the ground along the way. Ailesse points to the symbol of the bridge over earth at the foot of a stone pathway that stretches across the void. The soul bridge. “I can’t tell where it leads to or how far it goes into the darkness.”

I’m about to suggest we walk across it together when I see an unlit torch in a sconce behind us. I cross back to it and rub the top of its wrapped fibers. They’re coated in something sticky like pitch, but the resin smells strangely sweet. Whatever it is has kept stable for who knows how many years, decades, or even centuries.

Ailesse pulls out the candle from her lantern and hands it to me. I light the torch. The flame is strong and burns without smoking.

“Look, there are more.” She points to two nearby sconces along the wall. As we light the torches inside them, we notice others and keep walking around the circular pit, lighting all of them until the ledge ends, about halfway around. At least we can see what’s across the other side now—a curving, natural wall of stone.