beach. The water laps gently, and a shower of awe prickles across my shoulders. A faint shimmer of rocks dot an increasingly visible pathway in the sea.
The tide is lowering. The land bridge begins to emerge.
23
Bastien
AILESSE ISN’T GONE. SHE CAN’T be. But no matter how hard I try to convince myself, I can’t peel my groggy eyes off the evidence. The limestone slab. It’s vacant. Except for a pile of rope.
My pounding heart is a physical pain in my chest.
This is impossible.
No. I catch myself. No, this was very possible. I knew all along Ailesse was capable of outmaneuvering me—even bound, even weak, even without her grace bones.
Her grace bones.
I jump to my feet and run, tripping over Marcel and Jules asleep on the floor. “Ouch!” Jules growls. Marcel’s snoring catches.
I scramble for the shelves. The chipped pitcher isn’t there. I spin around and see it on the table. A few coins from Jules’s pouch are scattered around it. I rush over and peer inside the pitcher. Empty. “Merde!” I shove it back. It slides off the table and shatters on the ground.
Jules bolts upright. Half her hair has come undone from her braid. “Bastien, what are—?” Her gaze lands on the slab, and her jaw drops. She grabs her brother’s shoulder and rattles it. His eyes crack open. She points to the slab.
He pushes up onto his elbows. Blinks slowly at where Ailesse should be. “Oh.”
“Oh?” I pace and try not to bite off his head. I know exactly how this happened. “Show me that small knife you carry.”
He reaches under his cloak, and his face blanches. “It’s gone. The bone flute, too.”
I kick a shard of the pitcher.
Jules turns incredulous eyes on her brother. “How did you let Ailesse get that close?”
He lies back down and shakes his head. “I’m the one who got close to her. Ailesse told me about the symbols on the flute and . . . she said she was trying to help.” He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Tonight is the new moon, too.” He groans. “Her ferrying night. She practically spelled it out to me. I’m a fool.”
I sigh. Marcel isn’t entirely to blame. I saw him sitting right beside her. I didn’t ask him to move away. “We’ve all been fools.”
Jules looks affronted. “Excuse me? I wasn’t here. Don’t blame me for—” She frowns. “What are you doing?”
I cinch the strap of my sheath harness on my back. My father’s knife presses against my spine. I’ll make this right, I promise him.
I grab an oil lamp. Kick the door open. Duck outside and charge into the dark of the catacombs. Ailesse is still here. She has to be. I couldn’t have been sleeping for more than a half hour, and this place is a labyrinth.
Jules bursts out of the chamber. “Wait!” Her hazel eyes glitter in the light of the lamp she’s just snatched up. “You have to think. Ailesse has all her bones now. We need a proper plan. We’re not prepared for—”
“I’m not letting her get away.” My throat tightens. I saved her from the pit. Didn’t that mean anything to her?
You also tied her up again, Bastien.
“I’m coming, too!” Marcel rushes to join us.
I stiffen when I see the bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. “No one kills Ailesse, is that clear?”
Jules narrows her eyes. “Are you worried about your life or hers?”
“What difference is there?” I snap. She flinches and takes a step back from me. My shoulders fall when I see her eyes are watering. I’ve only seen Jules cry twice before—six years ago, when I caught her weeping at her father’s grave, and a little over two months ago, when I told her we just needed to be friends. I reach out and touch her arm. “You know what I mean, Jules.”
Her nostrils flare, and she shoves my hand away. “Nothing is clearer. We may have to guard your precious soulmate’s life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make her suffer.” She yanks her knife from her belt. “I, for one, haven’t forgotten my mission.” She marches past me to take the lead, furiously wiping at her eyes.
I blow out a heavy breath and follow.
Marcel sidles up to me once Jules has outdistanced us by several feet. We rush along, trying to keep up with her. “Sometimes I think she really could kill Ailesse,” he murmurs.
“Come on, Marcel. She wouldn’t do that.” We duck our heads to dodge a low