Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace, #1)(105)

You have done enough, Ailesse, Tyrus sings without words, but my soul understands. Come where your talent will be honored, where I will appreciate your Light.

Ailesse, I need you! The sound of another voice startles me. It’s beautiful and rich. Somehow I know it.

I glance at Elara’s sheer and silvery Gate—just to the right of Tyrus’s Gate—but when the voice calls again, it doesn’t resonate from within her realm.

You have always wanted to be a Ferrier. Do not disappoint me!

It’s coming from behind me. I start to look when Tyrus asks, Is ferrying what you truly desired all your life? Or did you only wish to ascend the soul bridge to come closer to my kingdom? Now you can touch it for yourself. You can live here, Ailesse.

Turn around!

Let go and come to me.

Tears of exertion blur my eyes. I’m torn between staying and going. The force of Tyrus’s power channels into every space of my body. He wants me more. He can have me.

My head tips back in surrender.

I let go.

Something grips my arm. I can’t move. The black dust has nearly enveloped me, but I’m held back. My blood burns. I’ll kill whoever is— I’m spun around. I’m staring into wide chazoure eyes. A girl without chains. “The boy says you don’t belong there.” Her voice is different from the others in my head. “And the beautiful lady says she can’t fight all the Chained without you.”

My brow furrows. Only some of her words make sense. I look past her.

In the middle of the soul bridge, someone in a midnight-blue dress and wearing majestic grace bones twirls and lashes, fighting four Chained at once. I gasp. “Mother!”

She can’t look at me with all the dead surrounding her and more coming, but the tense line of her shoulders eases. “Take this one, Ailesse!” she calls. She strikes the flat of her palm into the man in front of her. He’s thrown right at me. My mother’s aim is exact.

Fierce instinct takes hold of me. Tyrus’s siren song breaks. The Unchained girl lets go and passes through Elara’s Gate. I rush toward the dead man.

I kick out his legs before he lands. He crashes to his knees. I haul him up and drive him backward to the Gate with unrelenting blows. I even gouge his eyes. He doesn’t have a chance to fight back. My mother is here. I grin, even as the dead man curses me. She came to help. She didn’t allow me to die. She cares about me.

Warmth radiates through my chest. All my life I’ve dreamed of ferrying beside her, working together in perfect unison. That moment is here. Part of me wants the world to stand still so I can drink it in. But the stronger part—the part of me that’s really my mother’s daughter—won’t stop to be sentimental. I fight the dead harder than ever.

I grab the man by the back of his chazoure tunic. I’m near the vortex of black dust now. I have to be quick. The Chained thrashes like a wildcat, but my grip is as strong as my tiger shark’s jaws. I don’t let go until I hurl him through the Gate. He cries out as the dust cloaks him from sight.

I hover nearby, staring at the spinning darkness. Tyrus’s siren song returns and pounds through my head. It’s not too late, Ailesse. Come to me. I will not punish you. I will share my bounty.

I square my jaw. I won’t listen.

I run the other way. Too many souls swarm the ledge and bridge. They spider-crawl through the rift above and drop from the mine shaft. I rapidly scan the cavern for Bastien, but I can’t see anything beyond streaks of chazoure.

Ten feet later, two more Chained confront me. I smirk and motion them forward. I attack with more vigor, but I still don’t match my mother’s talent. She’s fighting five souls now. She doesn’t even have a staff. My nostrils flare.

I hurriedly draw the two Chained backward to the Gate. One of them lunges at me. I strike his chest with the heel of my foot. The other barrels forward, and I sidestep him, jabbing his back with my elbow. My ibex agility keeps me balanced on the narrow bridge.

I turn to fight the first Chained, but he cuffs me hard in the jaw. I stumble backward, barely dodging a blow from the second one. I tighten my fists and attack faster, using every measure of my falcon speed. Once I have the advantage, I grab both souls by their chains and heave them through the Gate.

“Send more!” I shout to my mother.

She tosses me another Chained. A robust woman who immediately throws a punch at my face.

I duck and ram into her stomach with my shoulder. With a sharp twist, I yank her around. She growls, thrashing as I drive her backward toward the Gate. I kick her off me and shove her into the black dust.

As soon as she’s through, I bolt away to fight another Chained my mother thrusts at me. We ferry on and on like this until our movements become one fluid rhythm.

My chest burns with pride. She can’t doubt my ability now. She must see how I’ll be a worthy matrone.

The souls that are Unchained dart past us and run to the call of Elara’s realm. Some are threatened by the Chained, but my mother and I help them break free.

I lose count of how many dead we ferry. A Ferrier’s work can last until sunrise, if necessary.

During the age of the plague, when death was rampant, my famille needed as much of that time as possible. But my mother and I must be nearly finished. The number of dead are starting to thin.

I throw another Chained through the Gate and look above me to the rift Bastien blasted open. I shout his name, but don’t hear anything back. My pulse beats out of time. Where is he?