Page 23 of Mistress of Bones
Soothing the bird, she directed it downward, watched the world rush up to her until the bird found footing by the stables. A groom saddled a fresh horse while another mare drank greedily from the trough. Someone shouted by the entrance of the building, the words warping strangely through the bird’s hearing. Azul examined the surroundings eagerly, her body and spirit weightless and free. She nudged the bird onto the saddle, testing the material with its claws while the groom brought the horse closer to the entrance. More noises, more sounds. Frantic. Yelling. Someone demanding haste? Movement over the dirt path. Another horse, huffing from exhaustion, its coat dull with the dirt of travel. A hop to get a better view.
The link was suddenly cut.
Azul gasped, choking on her pounding heart. The bird was gone, killed by a well-placed smack from one of the grooms, no doubt. Beside her, Nereida craned her head to study her in the shadows, then returned to face the door. No questions, no further concern. Nereida left Azul alone with her nightmare, and Azul understood. Nightmares shouldn’t be shared, even though she hadn’t been dreaming, and Azul would not confess that another being she had brought back to life was now, again, dead.
Dead like Isadora.
Lying here, with Nereida by her side where Isadora should have lain, the capital seemed continents away. The empty hole inside her chest felt big enough to eat Monteverde whole.
“Whom do you mean to have me bring back from death?” she asked, grasping for something to keep her afloat.
Rustling noises, movement next to her when Nereida rolled into a different position. “We shall use an inn when we get to Cienpuentes. Think of a name for yourself instead of this questioning.”
But thinking was the last thing Azul wanted to do. “Is it true the nobles at court wear so much Anchor they shine like stars?”
“Your sister told me during the trip that your mother birthed one or two heirs of the court,” Nereida said. “Did she lie, or do they not acknowledge your existence?”
“My mother’s business is private. Aside from Isadora, I have met only two of my half siblings, one of whom sought me out without his sire’s knowledge.”
“How did you and your sister end up with your mother instead of your natural fathers?”
“Isadora was the first, the one who made Mother realize how much she loved carrying babies. Without Isadora, I would not be here.”
“And your father?”
“His wife died while Mother was still pregnant, and so the contract was nulled. He offered to raise me anyway, but Mother decided to keep me. Money was not an issue by then. Mother is beautiful, the children are always healthy. Her services command good money. Sometimes I think she’s the Blessed Heart made flesh and bones.”A sort of emissary, perhaps, Azul thought,for another god and under another name.
“And she never sought to marry? To be kept by one of her clients?”
Azul laughed. “Mother does not like romance, except for what is required to produce a child.” If Azul were to be honest, she did not think her mother liked children that much once they were out of her. Isadora had been a revelation, Azul a whim, but they had often been left in the hands of family friends and tutors—and in Isadora’s case, the Temple’s school—while their mother was away bringing another child into being.
“Why do you think they send the bones to Cienpuentes?” Azul asked. “How can they have space for all of them?” And why had theinnkeeper told Azul they would be in Monteverde after her sister’s death? Was it because they had believed a ten-year-old unworthy of the truth, or had those people at the inn known no better either?
The Lord Death’s refuse, the man had called bones. Maybe people around these parts simply didn’t care to know.
Nereida offered no answer, and Azul rolled to lie on her side, facing the curtains. They were dark red, simple but of obvious quality. Thick enough to block the sunlight. Thick enough to stop Luck and Wonder from peeking in.
Closing her eyes, Azul tried to link back to the bird only to remember the bird was gone. If she hadn’t been so curious about the commotion at the building, if she hadn’t forced it…
Regrets, Azul reminded herself as she closed her eyes, would take her nowhere.
And, as the night advanced and no one came to demand their presence, Azul finally drifted to sleep.
IXTHE COUNT, AGAIN
A YEAR AND A HALF EARLIER
Count de Anví studied the two toddlers playing on the plush rug. They whined and squealed and made their presence annoyingly obvious in the big white-and-blue room deep inside the Heart. A nurse attended them while two fellow golden tabards stood guard by the double doors: one with a pike, the other with a rapier and a pistol. Another set of guards waited on the other side of the door behind the count and the Faceless Witch.
He spared her a glance. Damn the Witch to the Void. She was wearing Bard Celeste in full visiting regalia: embroidered breeches, embroidered deep red doublet, chestnut hair swept into a beautiful arrangement supported by silver hairpins ending in small blooming flowers. A lace mask matching the doublet covered the upper half of her face, but it didn’t hide the twinkle in the honey-brown irises ringed in gray.
“So,” said the Witch, “can you tell which child is the king and which one is the decoy?”
“I’m not their nurse, how would I know?”
“They do look awfully alike, don’t you think? Looking at them like this, you can understand how someone thought they might be able to swap them long enough to steal the king.”
The count returned his attention to the children. “You trust your source?”
