Page 156 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

I will keep you safe, Ellie.

Will Teo know? Will I see him?

Once you are home again, yes.

Thank you, BoneKeeper,she whispers, and I quietly guide her to my bone blade.

“What are you doing?” One of the men beside Axton snaps like a feral beast. I raise my eyes to him, confused.

Caution! Caution, Wren! Say ‘grieving’ and nothing else!Lorcan is frantic on my back; I can feel his teeth bite, his fingers scrape.

“Grieving,” I reply dumbly. The man narrows his eyes.

“AFifthTier?”

His tone, so doubting, ignites anger in me so deep and bright it sears. “Does life hold so little value in your world that you don’t even sparesorrowfor the classes below you?”

Disgust is clear in my voice, my lips curling into a sneer and snarl, and he steps back, looking to either side of him as though for support. “Wegrieve.Youare a Binder. Did you steal her soul, Demon?”

Axton looks, for the first time since I met him, entirely unsure, and I’m ridiculously and stupidly disappointed in him, though I have no idea why.

“I would never,neverguide a soul without its request or permission, Rider. To do so would be unthinkable in the face of the Goddess.”

Truth rings in my words, undeniable, and it seems answer enough, because he falls reluctantly silent.

Axton finally opens his mouth to speak, clearing his throat first. “This Fifth was the Binder’s maid. They have a bond of sorts. It is different in the Bone Culture.” It is no real explanation, but for some reason is enough to calm the men behind him. He inhales deeply, then forces himself to continue, voice cool and emotionless. He turns to me, clearly thinking he’s offering some sort of comfort. “We will call her friends to prepare her for burial. We won’t break camp until she is safe in the ground.”

The men behind him move silently, but I am caught on his comment, tilting my head in confusion. “What does that mean?” I ask hesitantly, the warmth of her sleeping soul safe in the Guiding Knife.

Kylabet answers beside me, careful and blank. “Her burial. We haveto dig deep enough that the wolves won’t scavenge her body. It will take time.”

“Dig?”

“Yes, Binder.” She is exaggeratedly patient, as though speaking to a small child, her grief making her short. “We put our dead below earth, then cover them. We’ll mark her deathbed, though.”

As her meaning becomes clear, sickness seizes my heart, and I am suddenly and violently ill, rushing to the edge of the small glen and bending over the thick brush.

They bury their dead beneath the ground.

Beneath the ground.

THE BURIAL

KADEN

“It’s an abomination. An abomination!” she barks, pacing back and forth in the small clearing, her body trembling with rage.

The Rider, Teo, is sitting on the ground, face mute of all emotion, eyes locked on the grass in front of him where the blades of glass are still bent, bearing the weight of memory, flattened to the earth. She hesitates at his side, reaches out a fragile hand to hover over his bent head, before pulling it back and resuming her furious movements.

I don’t understand anything about her. And it scares me how much I want to learn.

“What do I do?” The words are raw and rusted, tasting like iron. I’m not surprised; Teo screamed himself hoarse when we finally got him far enough away from the clearing that his agony wouldn’t be heard. It was heart wrenching, watching him wake up, watching him come back to himself, and then, seeing the crashing despair break him, watching him drain away, leaving just this shell behind.

She sinks to her knees immediately before him, but does not reach out to touch him, and I am reminded again how deeply ingrained some things are to her.

“Where is she, Wren?” He leans forward and grabs her hands,squeezing them in his own. “She was there, and then she wasn’t. The serpent was far, but I was farther, and I couldn’t make it in time. One step closer and the path of my life would have veered right instead of left.” Wren murmurs, some indistinct sound of comfort, and his face collapses. “And now she’s gone. Just…gone. I will never…” He moans, his pain so sharp it stabs into everyone around him.

Wren…freezes. She doesn’t pull away, doesn’t react in any noticeable way, but I have been watching her so long now that I can hear any change in key to her music. Rannoch clears his throat softly from the far side of the clearing, drawing her gaze up to him. He tilts his head, then sighs at whatever answer he sees on her face, and nods reluctantly.

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