Page 47 of The Bones of the Cursed

“Wait,” she says, and I glance at her to find she’s chewing her bottom lip. “Is there a way to summon a Banshee? Or know if any of the bones have the curse of a Banshee on them?”

My eyes widen. “Why in the world would you want to summon aBanshee?”

She fiddles with her fingers like she always does when she’s nervous, but eventually seems to come to a decision and explains her run-in with the Banshee. This time, she includes the finer details that she left out before.

“The Banshee that attacked us…When this is all over with and we find my brother, I would like to set her free.”

I’m left speechless. This world does not deserve someone this pure. And then my mind skips back to something she said. “Repeat to me what she said again? The part about where the answers you seek are?”

“She said to find the throne. That it would have what I need. I thought, at first, she meant the king and queen’s thrones in Percius, but that seems too simple. Besides, if they had the answer to all this, we wouldn’t behere.”

“True.” I have a niggling thought in the back of my mind, but I just can’t seem to make sense of it. “I think we need to go back to Percius. We need the castle’s records.”

She blinks at me. “That’s at least a week-long ride. We can’t take that much time. Elion needs us. The soldiers need us. And anyway, the king and queen aren’t just going to let us into the castle.”

I can feel her fear pulsating around us, a bitter taste that lingers in the air. She tries to put on a brave front, but her forced, watery smile and trembling hands show me it’s just a front. I place my hands on her shoulders and breathe deep, having her mimic me to ease her panic.

“I can get us in,” I say when she seems calmer. “I understand your worry, but the castle records will tell us where another throne would be. I have a feeling that, if we can find the throne, it may lead us to more than just your brother.”

The Elves walk over and Sarya rests her hand on Alanis’s shoulder. “We are going to head home. If there is anything you ever need, please send word to us, all right?”

Alanis gives a slight smile, throwing her arms around the Elf’s neck. “Thank you for everything,” she whispers.

It seems that anyone who comes across Alanis becomes enamored.

She looks to me with tears in her eyes. “I can’t lose him, Mal.”

Her casual use of my nickname makes warmth coursethrough my body, stopping in my chest, making that beating organ feel alive again, “You won’t. I promise.”

Every step I take back toward home, I hope I didn’t just make a promise I can’t keep.

- ELION -

The throbbing in my leg wakes me, and when I open my eyes and look down, I find the knife still protruding from my thigh. I’m still tied to this Gods-awful chair. I grit my teeth, thanking the Gods that he didn’t do worse than a few punches to the gut, a knife wound, and a hit to the back of the head to render me unconscious.

Yes, it could have been much worse.

I look around my surroundings, hoping to glean some sort of insight to where the hell I am. There are no windows, and from the number of stairs we went down, I would say I’m in a cellar. Or maybe a dungeon would be a more apt description. The air is cold, and I can hear a trickle of water from somewhere above me.

A glimmer in the corner catches my attention. It takes only a moment for me to realize something is slowly taking form out of nothing.

I don’t have long to wait before the Banshee appears. My heartbeat picks up as the temperature drops in the room. She takes a step toward me on bare feet caked in mud and Gods know what else. Her arms hang loosely by her sides, drawing my attention to her six-inch-long nails.

I swallow hard. Maybe this is it; maybe she will end me quickly. I already know the horror that is her face, with teeth so long and sharp her mouth doesn’t fully close, always etched in a too-large smile.

When she stops in front of me, all I can think is,Alanis,please forgive me for giving up.

Between one blink and the next, she transforms from horrifying to absolutely stunning. Long black hair frame a soft, heart-shaped face and drapes down to her waist. There’s no sign of the massive teeth I was expecting.

She lifts her hand.

I flinch away from what is sure to be a touch of death and doom. Face expressionless, she slowly lowers it, instead clasping both hands in front of her and fiddles with them, as if nervous. The habit reminds me so much of Alanis that I can’t help but smile.

Taking a breath, she comes forward and sinks to her knees in front of me. My eyes might actually be bulging out of my skull. What in the hell is she doing?

She slowly traces a delicate finger down my thigh and around the knife. Her touch sends chills throughout my body. An odd and slightly alarming response, but I choose to ignore it for now.

She continues the gentle motion until a sharp pinch has me biting my lip with a grunt. When I look to my leg, the knife is gone. The wound slowly starts to heal.

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