hungry look he gives me. My body flashes hot then cold.
Can any part of him sense how this will end?
My bone knife. His heart. My proof to the gods that I’m ready to become a Ferrier.
Keep dancing, Ailesse. Keep dancing.
7
Sabine
PAST THE ASH TREE IN the forest, I watch Castelpont and the progress of the danse de l’amant. My heart pounds faster. My best friend is that much closer to killing a human being, and I’ve sworn to witness every moment of his death.
Don’t dwell on the horror of this, Sabine. Think of the good that will come from it. Ailesse will be a Ferrier. She’ll help the souls of the departed find their new home in the Beyond. They’ll be at peace—at least the ones destined for Paradise will be.
Ailesse extends one of her amouré’s arms and slowly twirls outward along its length, then inward to his chest. She stops when her back is pressed against him. Her arms rise like wings and fold behind his neck. The boy eases into her movements, becoming one with her. They’re beautiful together. My eyes prick, but I hold back the tears. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry tonight.
I scrutinize the boy who arrived only moments after Ailesse started playing the flute. Did the gods choose him out of convenience, or is he truly her perfect companion? I frown, finding nothing wrong with him. Any flaws at first glance are only virtues in disguise. His awkwardness is charming as she spins around him. His solemn nature reflects a life of discipline.
I begrudgingly accept that the gods chose him well, but my chest aches. Ailesse has always done everything before me, and now she has something far more valuable than another grace bone. She has the promise of love. She has met her amouré. I fear I’ll never have the courage to do what it takes to meet mine.
A flash of black winks out from the fog across the bridge—just enough that I see something creep down to the riverbed. If it’s a predator, it will be drawn to the blood when Ailesse kills the boy. I worry at my lip. I’m not supposed to intervene tonight, but that rule probably means I shouldn’t interfere with Ailesse’s amouré, not whatever it is I just saw.
I hang my friend’s shoulder necklace on a branch, duck under it, and tiptoe to the edge of the riverbank. Ailesse’s amouré doesn’t notice me. He’s watching her walk around him and trail her hand around his torso. I have to hurry. I need to return to my post before the dance is finished. By then, the luring spell of the bone flute will dwindle away, Ailesse will withdraw her bone knife, and I must be back in time to witness her completion of the rite of passage.
The fog churns thick again. I move as fast as possible down the steep bank. At last, I reach the bottom and scan around. I can only see seven feet or so in each direction. The rest of the riverbed is a blanket of white. If I were out hunting, I’d have my bow or dagger, but as a ritual witness, I’m defenseless. The Leurress performing the rite must prove she is adept on her own.
I continue forward carefully. My salamander grace steadies my feet on the uneven ground. It also heightens my sense of smell, an ability I’ve often rolled my eyes at for its lack of helpfulness, but now I’m grateful. I let the scent of leather and wool and light perspiration guide me to the other side, where I hear a small grunt of exertion. It comes again, this time accompanied by faint scraping. The fog parts around a crouched figure—a girl. She jerks her head to me, and her hood falls back.
For a split second I’m baffled, unsure why she’s here. Then my blood turns to ice. Her hands are covered in dirt. The earth beneath her has been dug up in one spot. I curse myself. She must have found the place easily due to the crudely overturned soil.
The girl tenses, ready to attack or flee. My heartbeats crash. I struggle to think. She doesn’t have Ailesse’s grace bone yet. Ailesse would have noticed and cried out to me. I still have time to stop her.
I lunge for the girl. She anticipates me and rolls to the side. I whirl around to find she’s already up on her feet, holding a knife. My nerves light on fire, but