Page 42 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

“You are agirl,” Nickolas snarls, and I smile.

“I am. And thisgirlhad to see earth soaked with the blood of our people, several inches deep, damp enough that my palms pressed against it could still feel the warmth and wetness of the victims. Murder I said and murder I meant. These were no Offerings to our Gods, but sacrifices to a darker purpose, blood that polluted instead of purified. What say you, Raek?”

Raek’s nostrils are flaring, eyes narrowed as he thinks through his answers. But a wave of dizziness presses against me, churning in my stomach, and my vision flickers. I know this pain, though I haven’t felt it in ages. “I’ll let you think of excuses, Raek. You and your brother can fumble with half-truths and full-lies to the rest of the Council, and the Father.” Fury white hot and poisonous drips from him, his body trembling with the effort of remaining still, and I, perhaps unwisely, decide to shove the blade in deeper. “You’re predictable, and, truly, I am tired of you.” Yawning theatrically, I turn my back on him and the rest of the men. “Though I must say, your feeding the Ender was unexpected. Pointless, but unexpected.”

“Raek–” The Father’s voice is tight and demanding as I leave the room, drifting calmly and quietly out, not letting myself collapse until the door has closed behind me. I only make it a few steps until I reach the far wall and fall against it, sliding to the ground, cold with fear. It’s been years, but the wet clamminess on my skin is a bleak reminder of what’s to come. When this sickness used to take me I was lost to the world for the space of two, if not three days, and it’s beyond full dark, so I have no way to find my way home. Not like this. If I were at full strength, I would risk it, but I already feel the weakness seeping into my muscles. If I lose consciousness here, like this, I don’t know who I’ll be when I wake. Cold shivers ripple through me, but I fight them, trying to stay upright against the wall.

The Council door opens, and my breath catches in my throat before seeing Rannoch’s face, at first lit with fury, but instantlymelting into fear at the sight of my shaking body curled up on the floor.

“Keeper?” he asks worriedly, but I can’t answer him. “Blood and bone, what’s wrong with you?”

The hallway wavers, and then disappears, and I am swallowed by pain and darkness.

THE TASTE OF WATER

RANNOCH

She slumps over like an emptied bag of flour, like a bird that has been shot from the sky, wings pierced and broken, plummeting to earth, and looks pale grey instead of bone white. The change is petrifying, and I don’t know what to do. Silas sent me out to pull her back in, to have her answer questions about her accusations, but if I drag her back in now, I’d be throwing a carcass before wolves.What to do? It’s too late to take her to her home, and I can’t leave her unattended in her chambers here. She wouldn’t be safe.I know that truth in my heart, and it sickens me. Her rooms in the Council House have no way of barring the door from the inside, not that she could wake to do it now anyway.

There is a creak of sound from behind me, and I spin around, cloak spread wide to try and hide the small, crumpled body behind me. Thankfully it’s just Silas, eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him, and in a sudden wave of panic, I realize I haven’t even had time to check if she’s breathing yet. Sun and earth, she could be…no. I can’t think it.

“What…?” Horrified voice pitched low, he glances behind him furtively then shuts the door firmly.

“I don’t know! I just found her like this.”

“Check her! Quickly! We don’t have time….” His words are tight, strangled, and I can tell he’s fighting for control. Whipping around, I drop to my knees and check her breathing, her pulse, and when I feel the pale flutter of motion on her throat, a wave of relief so intense washes over me I feel nauseous. I can’t speak, but he must see something in my expression that releases some of the tension in his jaw.

“Hells, Rannoch.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, he looks as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and, in a way, I suppose it is. “Is this ever going to get easier?” he murmurs quietly to himself, shaking his head. “She can’t go to hers…where? Yours? That would be putting you at risk if they found out. Mine is impossible.”

There is a flurry of shouting so loud it pushes through the heavy door, and we exchange panicked glances. Silas exhales sharply, then straightens, flexing his shoulders and spine before deciding.

“Take her to the old mine entrance. Near enough no one knows about it, and I don’t think the older members would go there.”

He’s right…he’s almostalwaysright, to be fair. The old mine is perfect. There’s only one broken, stone blocked entrance left to the mountain’s heart from the Council House, and I’m not even sure anyone else knows it exists. All the others were fully walled up decades ago, when the first miners cracked through the glossy black stone deep in the body of the mountain, and found a lake of molton rock, thick and shimmering an iridescent blue so captivating and mesmerizing that a full ten of them had walked into it willingly before they even knew what they were doing. The rest tried to follow, but were yanked back by the few who hadn’t entered the chamber yet, who hadn’t seen the fire, just heard the moans of the men who were pulled into its depths, and a chilling sort of music echoing through the chamber, calling to them in a sweet voice. Even with their fellow miners wrenching their arms and the melting bodies of their friends floating in front of them, another four or five miners had broken away and lept into the glowing pool, deep, bloody scrapes on their skin from their companions desperate attempts to keep them back.

None of the miners who made it back to the village lasted morethan a week. They were plagued by a voice only they could hear, singing to them from the lake in the mountain. One by one, deep in the night, they left their families and friends, the safety of their homes, and walked on bare and bloody feet back to the fire. The Council at the time voted to wall up the tunnels immediately, but it was already too late. The miners would claw their fingers raw on stone and then wriggle through the small holes to get back through the tunnels, leaving behind streaks of crimson and bits of flesh in their desperation to get back. Only one was able to fight it, largely because he was mostly deaf, and had been the furthest away from the cavern. And even he would tremble in the darkest hours, face turned longingly toward the mountain, humming under his breath.

“Reap and Render, the Ender, the Ender…” he would mutter over and over, rocking back and forth. “Reap and Render, the Ender, the Ender…”

It’s a child’s game now, played in a circle. They tap on each other’s heads, calling “Reap and Rend, the end, the end, the end, YOU!” and then chase each other in a violent burst of speed, the first trying to sit before the second calls him or her to Offering. But at the time, it was a warning no one understood. Not really. Not until the blood moths swarmed out of the mountain for the first time and pulled long strips of flesh from screaming villagers.

“Rannoch,now!” Silas snaps, yanking me from my thoughts, and I sweep her up into my arms, her body limp and pliant. “I’ll take care of this mess and meet you there.”

Nodding, I adjust her in my arms, then set off through the long, dark hallways to the secret, silent place where hopefully she would be safe.

It ishours until Silas is finally able to join me, and I spend the entire time watching the shallow movements of her chest, barely inhaling, barely exhaling. I’ve been unconsciously mimicking her, not breathing until I see her breathe, and am exhausted with worry by the time heclimbs past the wall of rock to the small room that is tucked, forgotten, just behind it.

“How is she?” are the first words out of his mouth, and I shrug.

“Breathing. Alive. Otherwise, no change.”

“Whathappened?”

“I don’t know. I walked out and she was collapsed on the floor, eyes open, panicked, and then it was like a candle snuffed— she just went out.”

Groaning quietly, he slumps back into a chair, looking years older than his 31, gaze locked on the Keeper’s face. “Rannoch.” The single word is a book of meaning.

“I know.”

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