Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace, #1)(60)

I trip back a step. I can’t think about Sabine right now. I’ve failed to open the Gates. The dead are flocking to me now, like I’m a living Gate—a door that some want to embrace and others want to destroy.

I curse the names of the gods.

I desperately pray to them.

Tyrus, Elara, what do I do, what do I do?

Past the oncoming flood of chazoure, I meet my mother’s dark and determined eyes. She’s not looking at me directly. Her gaze is latched on the bone flute in my hand. She holds another flute, but its color isn’t aged. And it clearly didn’t open the Gates.

My mother’s nostrils flare. She strides toward me through the rising water above the bridge, another half inch deeper. She must think I lied about the flute. But I didn’t. I thought it was gone.

A Chained man retreats off the bridge. He’s slower than the others—and he’s in Odiva’s way.

Her lips curl back, and she springs for him. She delivers a powerful kick on his back. He slaps the water face-first. She drags him up, spins for momentum, and hurls him into the sea. He crashes against a protruding rock. She turns back to me, her eyes narrowed.

I ball my hands into fists. Bastien and the others are a half mile behind me and getting closer. I can’t worry about them yet. Several Chained are scaling the cliffs. Any moment now they’ll reach me.

I inhale and set my jaw. Slide the flute into my sash. Focus on my graces.

I’m my mother’s daughter, and she’s just dared me to prove it to her.





26

Sabine

I GASP AS THE DEAD flood to Ailesse. The Ferriers look as shocked as I feel. Odiva doesn’t pause.

She charges through the water of the sinking land bridge and attacks every Chained in her path. Her eyes are livid and desperate. She thought Ailesse was dead. Or she lied, saying she was. Either way, she must be frantic about retrieving the bone flute. It’s the only way to get rid of the dead—if it’s not too late to raise the Gates.

“We have to stop the Chained!” I call to the Ferriers. “Ailesse can’t fight them all at once!”

élodie squares her shoulders. Roxane lifts her chin. They chase after the souls, their staffs lifted. The other Ferriers shout a battle cry and follow after them.

Maurille is sitting on the stone I eased her onto after saving her from the Chained man. Blood drips down her brow, but she seems more alert now. “Take my staff,” she says.

I look to where it’s floating in the water near the shore. I’ve trained to fight with a staff like every novice Leurress, but only halfheartedly. I never wanted to harm my sparring partners. And I never wanted to be a Ferrier. “Will you be all right?”

She nods and squeezes my hand. “Go. Ailesse needs you.”

I suck in a steadying breath and race for the staff. I feel like I’m diving into the lagoon all over again, but this time it’s a horde of Chained that can’t be killed, not a tiger shark, that threatens my best friend.

I kick through the shallow water, grab the staff, and dash back to the beach, grateful for my graced speed. Almost every Chained who’s on the shore is engaged by a Ferrier. Another flare of chazoure draws my focus to a Chained man. He’s climbing the cliff wall to get to Ailesse. He’s too high for me to reach, so I draw an arrow from my quiver. I shoot and miss. It takes a second try for me to hit him. His body lurches, but he doesn’t fall; he keeps climbing.

I cast off my bow and quiver and bolt for him, praying my nighthawk grace will help me clear enough air. I plunge the end of my staff in the sand and vault as high as I can. I fly even higher than the Chained man and kick him as I arc down.

He’s knocked from the wall. Before I drop any farther, I push off the wall and flip backward.

My landing isn’t elegant, but the sand absorbs most of the shock as I crash and tumble on the ground. I’m up again in a moment. The Chained is just pulling himself to his feet. His chazoure face turns a shade darker as he growls with rage.

I pluck up my staff, amazed at what I just did. Ailesse will laugh with pride when I tell her.

Ailesse.

My pulse quickens. She can’t defeat all these Chained on her own. I glance up. Some souls have already climbed over the cliff, and two more are nearing the top. I can’t vault that high.

The Chained I attacked lunges for me. I swing my staff and bring it down on his head. It strikes with a sickening crack, but there’s no gash, no blood. He cries out in pain and stumbles to his knees.

I cast aside my quiver and bow—the staff is a better weapon—and rush for the opening of the cave and toward the base of the hidden stairs. I’ll get up to Ailesse this way.

The cave isn’t empty. Three of the dead are also racing for the stairs at the back. Dolssa is in here, fighting to drive them away. Her staff whips one direction then the next as she attacks from all angles. I jump in to assist her.

I strike one of the Chained from behind. He’s thrown into the air. Dolssa skewers him. I swallow against the brutality and turn to confront the next soul. A man. Unchained. The one with that hat who asked me why the land bridge led to nothing. He tries to scurry past me to the stairs, but I block him. “You shouldn’t go up there.”

His lip trembles. “But the song . . . it’s calling me home. My wife is already there.”

My chest sinks. “That isn’t the way home. You need to stay near the land bridge until you hear the song again.” Odiva might get the bone flute back tonight, but it can’t make the tides recede. That won’t happen again for another month. What will the Ferriers do about the dead until then?