Page 47 of The BoneKeeper's Daughter

“It matters…Ithink, Keeper. But I’m not used to listening for grownup conversations. They tend to be boring.” He pauses, stumbles over his words. “I’m getting better, of course, Keeper. I’m paying more attention now.”

She runs her hand over his head again, as though she can’t keep from comforting him. “I know,” she replies seriously, then her eyes blank slightly, and I can’t help but flex my jaw. I know that look, thesmall change of her, and it is obvious that, even if I cannot see him around her neck, he is somewhere on her body still.

He is nothing but bone memory, TahrikI have to remind myself when she nods at words I can’t hear.Nothing but bone.The words feel almost sacrilege, even in my private thoughts, and I change focus abruptly, interrupting her silent conversation.

“Do you want to walk, Wren? The day is nice, and you’ll have two of us to help.”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “I think I’ll need what little energy I have left. The Council approaches. The bones are warning me. Tahrik?” She inclines her head silently toward Marrin, and I take him by the hand immediately, startling him.

“Would you like to earn an extra loaf today, young Protector? I’m off to the mill and desperately need a spare set of hands. Yours seem strong and capable.”

His eyes flare in surprise. The offer, both of extra bread and of mill work, are an unheard of opportunity for a Third Ring child, but he pauses anyway, glancing at Wren first, earning my endless respect.

“You…you don’t want me here when the Council comes?” His young voice trails off, first into hurt, then into a very adult realization. “Oh! You don’t wantmeherewhen the Council comes.” Tightening his fingers on my hand, he nods, and then grabs her hand gently before we walk away. “I’ll come check on you, Keeper. I’ll come back later to make sure you’re alright.”

She smiles weakly at him, a half-expression, but it is enough for him to turn from her. Risking a moment, I reach out my own hand and trace it whisper light down the line of her cheek. “I’ll check back too, Wren.”

“Hurry now,” is her only response, so we duck around the corner, leaving her faded and fragile behind us.

“I don’t like leaving her alone like that.” Marrin’s voice is a breath, barely a noise at all, and my fingers flex reflexively on his.

“Neither do I, Marrin. Neither do I. But we have no choice.”

Pausing, he looks up at me, his serious expression too old for his years.

“There is always a choice. I don’t think we’re making the right one.”

“Well, we’ll do as she asks, young Protector, and check on her later, hmm?” Pulling him along, I try to ignore the cold blade of his words in my heart.There is always a choice. And I’m not making the right one.

A PROMISE OF PEACE

WREN

They are gone but a few moments before Denian and Allford appear — two of the oldest members of the Council, with only Nathanial in between them to change the order. They rarely are errand boys, sent to bring me to heel, so I’m unsure as to the meaning. Neither is cruel, neither openly in opposition to the Father, but nothing is certain these days, so I sit, frozen, waiting, until they are in front of me.

“BoneKeeper?” It is Allford, tone mostly respectful, but there is an edge.

“Allford. Denian. What news?”

“You’re requested by the Council, Keeper.” Ah. Denian is more transparent, gentle regret clear in his voice. “The Father, and several members, wanted to give you another day to rest, but there is unease in the people that only you can quiet. Are you well enough to walk to the Council House? With assistance?”

“I am well enough by myself, Denian. Thank you, though, for the offer.”

Lorcan murmurs a quiet protest against my skin, but even he knows that walking into the Council House leaning on another would be like a lamb to slaughter.

“Then we must go, Keeper.”

Pausing, I turn to face my door, suddenly anxious. “I am not dressed for the day, Councilman. I have none of my bones but my crown. I need time.”

“I am truly sorry to say that you do not have any. If it’s any comfort, this will be quick, I think. It is a smaller group, as many are away with the Hunters. I’ll guide you there, BoneKeeper. I give my word that no harm will befall you.”

Taking my arm cautiously, only touching my sleeve really, Denian leads me forward, with Allford hovering on my other side, close enough that I can feel the pressure of air between us, but he does not brush against me.

The walk is…uncomfortable. Tahrik and Marrin were right; something insidious has happened in the days I’ve been asleep, something that has changed the cautious respect, the slight unease of the people into outright fear, their eyes widening in near terror as I’m paraded past them. Too late I wonder if I look like I’m leading or being led, flanked on either side like a prisoner. But we are there before I can change anything, walking up the steps and through the ominous doors yawning open like a mountain tunnel before us.

They bring me to one of the few rooms that doesn’t have bone, and a cold shiver runs down my naked spine. This is purposeful. There are perhaps only three rooms that don’t have bone in the Council House, and none are used other than for storage or for incidentals. Never for Council meetings, or matters of importance. I am suddenly, viciously glad I have my crown and blade.

The room is windowless and dark, even mid-morning, and smells stale and unused in a cold, dustless sort of way. In front of me, in a small circle, are some of the Council, but not all. The Father, Rannoch, and two others. Denian and Allford join them quickly, leaving me to stand on my own. No Nickolas, no Raek.

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