Odiva averts her eyes. “Yes, she must have survived her fall in the pit.”
“Her amouré survived, too.” Pernelle steps forward. “I thought you said he died with her.”
Odiva lifts a single black brow. “I am as shocked as you are.”
Pernelle shoots another frantic look at Ailesse. “We need to go after her at once, or the boy might take her back to the catacombs.”
“Or before the Chained reach her first,” I say, flinching as another rush of souls streaks by.
Odiva’s mouth forms a determined line. “Call the others, Pernelle. Some are fast enough to outrun the dead. Tell them to stop fighting and to race after my daughter. Retrieving the bone flute is our priority now.”
“And saving Ailesse,” I add.
Odiva takes a tense breath and briefly meets my gaze. “Of course.”
“What about the boy?” Pernelle asks.
“Capture him, but do not kill him. Ailesse must be the one to do that.”
My fingers wrap around the hilt of Ailesse’s ritual knife at my belt.
Pernelle bows to Odiva and runs off to do her bidding.
I lunge to chase after Ailesse, but Odiva grasps my arm. Her hand is alarmingly rigid. “Wait.”
“But she’s getting away.” I struggle against her hold.
“I am commanding you to stay back, Sabine.”
My cheeks burn. “Why?” Why isn’t she running after Ailesse straightaway? Odiva is faster and stronger than any of us.
When the matrone doesn’t answer, I turn to her. Her unblinking gaze is riveted on something to the north. On the far horizon, at the very last stretch of my graced vision, I spy a silhouetted animal. Maybe a wolf.
“It is a sign, Sabine,” Odiva says in a hush of great reverence.
What is she talking about? Why are we stalling when Ailesse needs us? “A sign from whom?”
“A god.” Odiva clutches her bird skull and ruby necklace, and the hair on my arms rises. “He’s accepted my sacrifices,” she murmurs, like she’s forgotten I’m even here with her. “He’s giving me one more chance to bring back . . .” Her voice goes hoarse with emotion, and she shakes her head. “But I must do this his way.”
“Do what?” I ask. My stomach folds as my matrone’s face hardens into a mask of cool resolve. The last time I saw this same expression was when she claimed Ailesse was dead.
I frown and take a closer look at the animal on the horizon. Its tail and legs are a little shorter than a common wolf’s. It also has a longer torso and a narrower, more pointed muzzle. “Is that—?”
“Tyrus’s gift to us.” A slow smile spreads on Odiva’s gravely beautiful face. “That’s his golden jackal.”
29
Bastien
AILESSE’S WARM HAND PRESSES TIGHTER against mine as we race into the forest, past the edge of the plateau. “How many of the dead are still behind us?” I ask. I hear their pounding feet, growls, and vicious cries coming closer.
A strand of her auburn hair whips across her face as she glances backward. “At least twenty. All of them are Chained. I don’t know what happened to the others.”
“Chained?” I pant for breath as we keep running. Ailesse isn’t winded at all.
She shakes her head. “I’ll explain later.” We weave around a large tree.
“Psst!” Marcel waves both arms at us. He’s behind a rocky knoll to our right.
I look at Ailesse. She casts another quick glance around us and nods. “Hurry, before they see us.”
We bolt for the knoll. On its other side is an overhang with a shallow cavity of earth beneath. Marcel ducks into it, and we tumble in next. Jules is down here, too. I end up wedged between her and Ailesse.
The horde of the dead grows louder. Ailesse holds a finger to her lips. We wait in tense silence as they rush past us. Female voices soon follow, shouting as they chase after them. Another long moment passes, and then Ailesse gives a reassuring nod.
Marcel heaves a sigh. “Well, that was exciting.”
“Too exciting,” Jules says.
“You saved us back there,” I tell Jules, jostling her with my shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong; I hated it. Promise me you’ll never do something like that again. I thought those dead were going to run both of you through. But it took a lot of spine. It was very Jules.”
It’s dim under the knoll, but I catch the corners of her mouth lift. “You’d do the same for me . . . wouldn’t you?” Her voice wavers with uncertainty.