Bone Crier's Moon (Bone Grace, #1)(95)

“No, I know the power of that feeling . . . it can’t be ignored.” No amouré has ever resisted it.

He studies me a moment, and his mouth curves into a warm and grateful smile. A dimple even caves in his right cheek, which isn’t fair. I can’t deny he’s beautiful. More than that, he’s also kind and sincere. Is it wrong to be jealous of Ailesse after everything she’s suffered?

“I was beginning to fear I’d lost my right mind,” he says. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course.” My grip slackens on my knife. Killing him won’t free Ailesse from captivity.

His teeth catch the corner of his lip. “Do you think . . . ? Would you be willing to introduce me to your friend?”

I lower my eyes. “I wish I could.” Do I really? “But I don’t know where she is. Those people you saw her run away with . . . they abducted her. I haven’t seen her since the night you saw her,” I lie. “I’ve been searching for her, too.”

Ailesse’s amouré’s smile fades. His dimple vanishes, and his stone-blue eyes harden. “She’s been abducted?” he says. I nod. He paces away from me, his fingers steepled on the bridge of his nose. “I should have known. I should have done something!” My brows lift at his surprising burst of emotion. Are all amourés so passionate? He leans his hands on the stone parapet with his head downcast. “If I’d arrived sooner that night, I could have saved her.”

I move to stand beside him, strangely wanting to comfort him. At least one other person is as concerned about Ailesse as I am. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me,” I murmur. “I was there that night, too, and I also failed to save her. The attack . . . it was masterfully planned.”

His eyes reflect my distress. “What can we do? Where have you searched for her?”

“She was in the catacombs at first. Maybe she still is, I don’t know. Those tunnels are a labyrinth. It would take ages to navigate every passageway.”

His fingers drum on the stones, and his jeweled ring sparkles in the moonlight. “What if I help you? I have an extensive map of the catacombs.”

The silver owl screeches, and I spin around. She pushes off the post and launches straight for us. I gasp and spread my arms protectively in front of Ailesse’s amouré. The owl zooms close, then suddenly veers right and swoops around us. She screeches again and returns to her post.

I gape at her, stunned by whatever just happened. Ailesse’s amouré gives an amused laugh.

“What an odd creature.”

I force a grin. Is the silver owl warning me not to hunt Ailesse with this boy? Or is she encouraging me?

His eyes drop to my hand, and he suppresses a smile. “I think we’re safe now.” He winks.

I realize I’m holding my bone knife in plain sight. “Oh.” I blush and sheathe it. “Sorry. This bridge makes me uneasy.”

He’s still staring at the knife; he can see the protruding hilt. “I’ve never come across anything like that.” His brow wrinkles. “Or your necklace, for that matter.”

“They’re heirlooms.” The lie comes quick to my tongue, and I hope it satisfies his curiosity. I have no wish to talk about the knife, because now I understand what the silver owl wants me to do —lead this boy to Ailesse and offer him to her, along with her bone knife. This is her sacrifice, not mine. That means the choice is hers.

I gaze at the boy before me. He has fallen in love with a girl just by a glimpse of her dress and a beautiful song, and now all he wants to do is to meet her. I hate that I’ve come to know anything about him. His death will be that much harder to bear. But I have to bear it. The silver owl has led me to this moment, step by step. She’s given me everything I need to find Ailesse and save her. I can’t turn back now.

“How is it you have a map of the catacombs?” I ask.

Ailesse’s amouré smiles again, but now it’s a mysterious smirk. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

I glance at his uniform once more and shake my head. I can’t guess his rank.

He leans in close and tells me.

I feel my eyes grow wide.





43

Ailesse

I RUSH THROUGH THE MINES beneath the catacombs. I can’t find the shaft that drops to the level of the bridge. Marcel might be brilliant, but his artistic skills are wanting. His scribbles have already led me down three wrong paths, and I wasted too much time backtracking.

A branching tunnel appears at the edge of my lamplight, and I quickly check Marcel’s map. I have no idea where I am. I glance back the way I came, then through the new tunnel. I hate stopping. Every time I pause, my eyes sting and I hear Bastien’s voice. Will you dance with me like you did then? I feel his hand cradling my cheek as he whispers, You never needed to play a song for me, Ailesse.

I ignore the hollow ache in my chest. I sprint down the new tunnel and bury any stray thoughts of Bastien. I focus on the bridge over earth instead. Did the Leurress ferry on it long ago? Why did they stop? Because the tunnels evolved into a desecrated mass grave?

I keep my eyes peeled for the hatch Marcel spoke about. If I can’t find the main entrance he marked on the map, maybe I can spot the other entrance to the soul bridge. But the hatch isn’t on the map, and I don’t see any sign of it.