Page 149 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

Um, Wren? Little Keeper. For the love of Sky and Earth.

If Lorcan could bury his face in his hands, it is obvious that he would.

“Yes?” He asks again, and it is very,veryclear that I am treading on thin ground, but I don’t anticipate getting to have an audience againanytime soon.

“There are two more requests,” I manage to say, somehow keeping my voice placid despite the chaos churning in my stomach, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“Twomore requests, Binder? Do you think yourself a welcome guest here? Poisoned blood. You are a breath away from being bound and gagged, and you’re asking for favors!” His astonishment would be amusing if it weren’t also laced with such violence. “I can’t wait to hear, Demon. Please. Enlighten me.”

“Ah. First, I’d like to know if I can purchase extra rations.”

“Are yours not satisfactory? You came to us looking like a skeleton. I’m sure they’re more than enough. Has your brief time with us made you greedy?”

“I would feel…it’s not right that—” My voice wavers slightly, just the shimmer of heat on a long road, but the bones on my spine nip into my skin.

CalmlyLorcan warns, and I clear my throat before trying again. “Having the…generous amount allotted to me, when there is another who does not share my abundance, would be—” I trail off, unable to figure out the correct words.

Axton looks perplexed.

“I’m– are you speaking of buying rations for theFifth Tier, Binder?” Kylabet's words are slow, as though the thought is so foreign to her that even voicing it seems impossible.

“Yes.”

Axton stares at me, unblinking, not bothering to look at his sister. “You want to buy extra rations for your Fifth Tier. That you’ve just met.” The flatness in his tone should be an omen, but it’s a prod instead, electric along my skin like lightning from the Storms.

“Yes,” I say again, this time with teeth in my answer.

“With what?” It’s dismissive, and direct. It’s clear what he means —Ihave nothing of value,Iam nothing of value. But I ignore the barb and pour a few little stones from my pouch into my hand, holding them out in front of him.

“I’ll trade. One for extra rations for the whole of the trip. And…and…” His eyes are fixed on the little, shining pile in my hand, so he does not see Kylabet step close behind me, voice so low that were she not almost at my ear I would not have heard her. “And a second set of traveling clothes,” I finish firmly at her near silent prompt.

“And the second request?” he asks, still staring at the stones.

“I don’t know how to act correctly here, with your people, and it’s frustrating. I constantly misstep without intent, wound without knowledge.” Finally, he looks back at my face. I meet his eyes directly, clearly making him uncomfortable. “If I cut with a blade, BloodLetter, I like it to be a purposeful strike. I wonder if I might have a tutor of sorts, to teach me whatever you would approve for me to know. Nothing more — I am not looking for secrets or stories. Just enough to navigate so my only offenses are intentional.”

His lips curl up before he can stop them, and then press into a thin line, as though he’s angry at himself for the small display of emotion.

“I’ll think on it. Surprisingly, it’s not anentirelystupid request. Perhaps Kyla?—”

The words aren’t out of his mouth before she interrupts him. “Not‘perhaps Kyla’, BloodLetter.Kylahas more than enough to do without you continuously adding to her plate.”

“Ky—”

“No,” she snaps. They stare at each other, twin expressions of stubbornness and exasperation lining their mirrored faces.

“Ah…There is a Rider who sold me a horse…I don’t recall his name, but Kylabet may know it? He does not seem to entirely object to my presence here. Maybe he would be willing, with your encouragement?” I am studiously blank.

Axton breaks away from the silent war with his sister, glancing at me. “Kylabet? You know the Rider?”

The pause before her words is so heavy entire songs could be written in the space; when she finally speaks, her voice is an echo of my own from moments before — carefully considering, but empty, as though the answer were not at her fingertips. “Which horse did you buy, SoulBinder? I only know a few that would be willing to part withtheir mounts. The bay? Or was it the dappled one? Or the small mare?”

“A brown one. A gelding, I believe he called it. With a soft nose, and a white star on its head, and one white sock.” My voice softens unintentionally when describing my horse, but I can’t help it. “Oh. And a little patch of white on’—”

“We don’t need its birthday, Demon.” Axton sounds impatient, but his lips are pressed together again in that same thin line, forcing them not to curl up. “That sounds like Teo’s? His supply mount. He sold him toyou?” Axton has trouble masking the surprise, and oddly, worry, in his response.

“Teo! Yes! That’s the Rider. Would he be an acceptable tutor?”

“Why Teo?” Axton asks, leaning forward on the table, arms now flexed, fully focused on my answer. I can tell whatever I say will have second and third order effects I don’t see at the moment, so I’m very careful with my reply.

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