Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,87

was her mother.

“A secret, Shahiid?” the girl asked.

“Aye,” Aalea smiled. “A secret.”

Ashlinn blinked. The weaver had worked a marvel on her face just a few eves prior. Gone was the roundness, the smattering of freckles. She was pretty as a field of sunflowers … if sunflowers knotted their hair in warbraids and stole anything that wasn’t nailed to the floor, that is …

“What kind of secret, Shahiid?”

“The delightful kind. The sordid kind. The dangerous kind. Secrets are like lovers, my dear. It’s only after you’ve acquired a few that you can make accurate comparisons.”

Aalea looked at the assembled girls with a dark smile.

“So. Bring me a secret. Whoever brings me the best shall have my favor and finish top in the Hall of Masks.” Aalea weaved painted fingers in the air. “Child’s play.”

“Shahiid, where will we look?” Jessamine asked. “Within the Mountain?”

“Black Mother, no. I’ve wrung these walls dry of secrets already. I want something new. Something to keep me warm at nights.”

“And where will we find such secrets if not here?” Mia asked.

“The wellspring of all secrets, love. Her rotten heart open wide to the sky…”

Mia’s heart surged in her chest. There was only one place Aalea could mean. The wellspring of all secrets. The font of all intrigue in the Republic. The heart of Consul Scaeva’s power, the seat of Aa’s ministry and Duomo’s cathedral, ever under the watchful eye of Remus and his Luminatii legions.

Godsgrave.

But the City of Bridges and Bones was an ocean away. It’d taken Mia eight weeks on a ship and another week dodging sand kraken to travel here from the ’Grave.

How in the Mother’s name do we get there?

Aalea took the acolytes into the twisting bowels of the Mountain, past Marielle’s room of faces, and into granite corridors Mia had never walked before. The stone was glass-smooth, the temperature warmer than above. The air was heavy, and as they walked deeper, in each breath, Mia was certain she smelled …

Could it be?

The corridor opened into a vast room, lit by arkemical globes. What looked to be a large bath was carved into the floor, thirty feet at a side, triangular in shape. Arcane symbols were etched into the stone at each point. And in the pool itself?

“Blood,” Mia breathed.

How deep it lay, she had no ken, but its surface rolled like the ocean in a storm. Mia looked at the walls around her, saw the granite was etched with maps. Cities. Countries. The entire Republic and all its capitals; Carrion Hall, Elai, Farrow and Godsgrave. Beside them, among them, more sigils that hurt her eyes to look at. The greasy tang of sorcery hung in the air beside the copper-slick stink of the pool.

“Acolytes,” said a soft voice. “I greet thee.”

Mia saw the slender figure of Speaker Adonai stepping into the light. In contrast to his colorless skin, he wore dark leather breeches riding torturously low on his hips. His bare arms and torso were scrawled with bloody pictograms. White hair swept back from a sculpted brow, the pink eyes beneath looking slightly bruised.

That new corpse beauty, shining down here in the gloom.

“Great Speaker.” Aalea kissed his cheeks, heedless of the blood. “All is ready?”

“The City of Bridges and Bones awaits.” Adonai’s eyes roamed the assembled acolytes. “Only thy donas this eve?”

“Dons on the morrow.”

“As it please thee.”

Aalea turned to the girls. “Take off your jewels, my loves. No rings or trinkets. No blades or buckles. Nothing that did not once know the flush of life may walk this path.”

“Be ye abashed of thy flesh laid bare, silk shall avail thee.” The speaker waved vaguely in the direction of a rack of robes against one wall. “Though rest assured, thou art possessed of naught I have not seen before. Thou shalt need to change ’pon the other side, regardless.”

The other side? What is he talking about?

Despite her silent misgivings, Mia took off her boots and belt. Dragged her shirt off over her head, wincing as her arm twinged. But slipping her stiletto from the leather sheath at her wrist, she found herself staring. She’d worked years to earn this back from Mercurio. To just leave it behind …

Adonai caught Mia’s attention, gave her a lazy, pretty smile.

“Thy blade is gravebone, is it not?”2

“Aye.”

“Then it shall make the Walk.” The speaker inclined his head. “It is bone. Life once flowed through it, ages past. Though if ye wish to leave it in my keeping, fear not. No thief alive hath courage enough to plunder