A Burning in the Bones (Waxways #3)

Chapter 13 Ren Monroe

13 REN MONROE

Ren licked her lips, trying to make out the shapes and shadows that stirred outside the dense fabric of her hood. There were three voices. A steady stream of conversation, but even though the words were audible, Ren couldn’t understand them. She’d initially believed it to be another language. Some sort of Tusk variant? But eventually she realized the clipped syllables and strangely elongated vowels were the result of magic. An enchantment was at work. Hiding their exchange from unwanted ears.

Mentally, Ren began working out how she’d create such a spell. The exercise kept her terror at bay. This was the third time she’d been taken captive in the last two years. First, on Della’s drug farm. Ren still carried the mental scars of her torture in the darkest corner of her mind. Next, she’d been captured by Zell Carrowynd. The city’s warden had been a far more pleasant jailor. Their conversation had been a crucial step in the destruction of Landwin Brood. Ren found herself hoping—and doubting—that this capture would be more like the latter.

A small pop sounded.

Magic had been dispelled. Ren could feel the weight of it vanishing from the air. One of the voices spoke—and now she could understand the words. “Can you hear us?”

It was not a voice she recognized.

“Yes. I can hear you.”

“Good. Do you have any idea where you are?”

Ren weighed how to respond, and decided that whoever had kidnapped them was powerful and powerful people wanted to know they were dealing with someone else who was powerful.

“My first guess was that you were connected to what we discovered inside that water treatment facility….” She let that dangle in the air. It was ideal to keep them curious. Trading useful information could matter in a situation like this. “But that theory fell apart. Our captors were all using magic, which means you’re not with the Makers. The next clue were the masks. The eyes I saw were an unnatural shade of green. The fabric is enchanted. Weaving magic that modifies eye color and voice pitch. That particular pattern belongs to the Graylantians.”

One of her captors snorted. “Well done. You’ve narrowed your attackers down to a house that has roughly three thousand members.”

“Oh, it wasn’t them,” Ren replied. “The masks were a distraction. You were trying to hide the identity of the wizard who led the attack, but he spoiled the secret. He was very good. Clever enough to get around some of the protective wards I was wearing. But the most interesting detail was the illusion he had over his wand. It’s one thing to wear masks. Hiding your identity in an attack like that makes sense. But how many people in Kathor have a vessel that’s famous enough that someone might recognize it on sight?”

Ren waited. No one snorted this time.

“I can think of… maybe five or six. Combine that knowledge with the other details—height, casting style, standing posture—and it’s pretty clear that Able Ockley led the capture party.”

Again, no one spoke. Ren knew they were still in the room. She could see those deeper shadows through her hood. “Which means House Shiverian organized the attack. If I had to guess, Seminar is in the room with us now. She hasn’t spoken because I’d recognize her voice.”

Ren knew she could stop now, but she figured she might as well finish the trick.

“But your question was where are we. The Shiverians have countless properties, but I’m a student of history—so I know that their house prefers to keep their hands clean. If you have to be involved in something criminal, you normally distance yourselves through your minor houses. You use them as shields. Which means I’m in a building that belongs to the Ockleys, the Arvinasks, the Marthins, or the Bearings. Able would never let you use his family’s home. Not if he’s already risking his reputation by participating in the actual kidnapping. The Arvinask family doesn’t know how to keep a secret. That leaves just two options—and based on the very faint scent of candle wax, I’m going to go with House Bearing. Specifically, we’re on the third floor of their workshop… on the corner of Conning Street.”

A rough hand pulled the hood away. Ren blinked against the light, and then blinked up at the familiar face of Seminar Shiverian. Her onetime mentor and her current captor.

“Gods,” the woman said. “I wish you’d chosen me. You could have learned everything I know. How bright that future would have been for you. Instead, you get this.”

Seminar gestured. Across the room, she saw Theo. Bound and hooded. There was no sense of panic across their bond, which meant he was likely unconscious. Either that or the charm was blurring their words. Two other people were in the room. The first was a man of middling height. His dark hair was receding. His eyes were wide and pronounced beneath rimmed glasses. The stranger was circling Theo while holding an old lamp in the air. It produced no light, but he squinted as if he could see some invisible substance in the air around them.

The second person stood half in shadow. Her bird-thin arms were crossed in front of her. Predatory eyes glittered as they met Ren’s. Prison had not dulled Tessa Brood’s natural beauty. This was what they deserved for showing mercy. The Broods ran most of the prisons around Kathor. A natural consequence of acting as Kathor’s bloody knuckles for the better part of a century. Theo believed that if he sent Tessa to one of their prisons, it might have been a death sentence. After all, her family was responsible for everyone’s horrible existence in those places. Mercifully, Theo had chosen to send his sister to the only facility that was run by the Proctors.

And now that decision worked against them.

“This is your plan?” Ren asked in disbelief. “You can’t just replace Theo. His ascension was public. The city views him as the rightful successor to House Brood—so do all of the minor houses that serve him. Removing him now would start a war. It’s one thing for an inheriting member of the house to usurp his father. Quite another for one of the other houses to force a change in leadership. I’m pretty sure that’s why the War of Neighbors started.”

Tessa’s smile stretched. “That’s the problem with being so smart. You start acting like an ass, and you assume no one else knows what you know. You finished what… fifth in your class?”

Ren nodded.

“I finished first in mine. How about you, Seminar?”

Her old mentor smiled. “First. As if there were any other option.”

“We know how the War of Neighbors started,” Tessa continued. “We’ve memorized those textbooks too. We know all the treaties and the major casualties. Little Ren Monroe stepped out of poverty and rose above her station… and now she thinks she has no equals. That’s not how it works. I’d dare to say that you actually have several superiors in this game we’re playing.”

Tessa crossed the room so that she was standing fully in the light. She spared the outside world a brief glance before looking back to Ren.

“Let’s put that mind of yours to the test. Tell me, Ren Monroe, what was the primary mistake that led to the War of Neighbors?”

Ren could almost hear Professor Sasser’s voice echoing in her mind.

“Secrecy. One house attempted to sway the internal mechanisms of another—but without the express involvement of the other three.”

Tessa offered a mock clap. “Very nearly an exact quote. That’s correct. Look at how we learn from our mistakes. What clever people we are. Seminar represents House Shiverian. Dr. Horn is here on behalf of House Winters. The Proctors were the ones who facilitated my release and the Graylantians, as you pointed out, offered the masks and tracked your movements alongside Able Ockley. Every single major house is involved this time. Which means no war.”

The Brood heiress looked at Ren as if she were the smallest, most insignificant creature in the universe. “You said you’re a student of history. Now you get to be an entry in a textbook. I’m sure we can find someone to write up a little paragraph about the genius Ren Monroe. You’ll be an answer on a Balmerick midterm. I just hope they actually remember what your name was when they take the test.”

Ren was shaking her head. “You can’t just get rid of Theo. It won’t work.”

“Get rid of Theo? We wouldn’t dare. No, dear, we’re getting rid of you . Dr. Horn?”

The third person in the room finally disengaged from his work. He retreated to where they were standing and set his strange lantern on the table. “There’s an opening,” he said. “The slightest crevice. Some small matter of distrust between them. A disagreement or an old wound or a lie. I’m not sure, but it doesn’t matter. It’s there. Enough to get me inside. The surgery will be lengthy, but I feel confident it will work.”

She had no context for what he was saying. Crevice? Wound? Surgery? She was about to ask what he meant when the answer clicked into place. Tessa Brood’s eyes glittered with delight.

“Good girl. Knew you’d figure out the answer.”

“We are bonded,” Ren spat out. “Literal magic courses between us. You’re really going to attempt a severance? That’s been done… twice in all of Delvean history.”

“Four times, actually,” Dr. Horn answered. “The first two successful procedures were performed by my father—and the next two were perfected by me. I am very good at what I do, Ms. Monroe. After assessing your bond, I can assure you that it is quite possible.”

His voice was so calm. As if he were explaining normal symptoms to a normal patient. Ren’s own panic started to rise in response. A wild thrashing in her rib cage. There was no response from Theo. No pulse of emotion. No protective surge of power. It was a confirmation that he was unconscious still. She thought she felt something . Some distant entity opening its eyes in response to the raw emotion thundering through her veins, but that presence was flicker and gone.

Like any caged creature, Ren thrashed back at them.

“This could destroy Theo. You risk doing permanent damage to him. There are stories of failed cases.” She shook her head. “Please. You can’t do this to him.”

“We can,” Tessa replied. “We will. If it works, Theo will never know. He’ll forget you ever existed. You could knock on the gates of our estate every morning—and he’ll look out at a stranger. It’s so delightfully tidy, no? We keep the capable heir of our house—and in the same breath, we get rid of you. The fucking mud on our favorite pair of boots.”

Ren had no answer. It was a disturbingly intelligent plan. She’d always known that Tessa was the most dangerous Brood. She’d also wondered—though never dared say aloud—whether they should just kill the girl to avoid future trouble. And now that trouble was here. Ready to devour them both. Tessa swept in for one final word.

“After it’s done, you don’t get to die.” She tapped Ren’s nose. “I think I’ll keep you.”

She marched out of the room. Seminar and Dr. Horn were still there, conferring quietly. Ren’s final hope rested outside the room. Vega. She wasn’t with us during the attack. Her eyes darted to the windows. Her view was of the tops of distant buildings, a steadily dimming sky. She watched and watched, but there was no rewarding sweep of stone wings. Instead, Dr. Horn crossed the room with a needle in hand. He smiled, as if she were any other patient in his care.

“This will pinch slightly,” he warned her. “But after, you won’t feel anything.”

“Wait.”

The word thundered out. It was not meant for Horn. Her once mentor turned back before leaving the room. Ren knew her only hope was to delay. She had to give Vega and the rest of House Brood a chance to find them. There was only one way to do that.

“You never asked what we found in that facility.”

Seminar humored her. “Go on then. What did you find?”

“Bodies. One in each water tank,” Ren said. “They were set there on purpose. Their wounds had been created after death. Like surgical openings. There was a substance leaking from each corpse. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Almost like the dragon corpses.”

Seminar listened without any change in her facial expression. Surprisingly, it was Dr. Horn who reacted. He reeled back a step. His face gone pale.

“We were following a tip. It led us to those bodies. Theo was worried that what we found there might be in other facilities around Kathor. He didn’t think it was an isolated incident. It’s possible that someone is targeting Kathor’s water supply. Poisoning people.”

Ren knew she was stretching the truth. Inventing wildly. Anything to plant the seeds of a bigger conspiracy in their minds. She was surprised again by the intensity of Dr. Horn’s reaction. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. As if she’d just predicted the exact date of his death.

Seminar was less convinced. “?‘If ever you are captured, distract and delay.’ That quote comes from Homa’s treatise on interrogation and warfare. A clever girl like you would know that text by heart.”

Ren shook her head. She could sense the door closing.

“Ask the paladins who were with us! They would have reported it back to Brightsword.”

“Unlikely,” Seminar replied. “We intercepted them before they could report anything.”

Another hope gone. Like a bird shot out of the sky with an arrow. No one else knew they were here. All they had now was Vega—and each other.

“You are charged with the protection of this city,” Ren said. “Kathor could be in danger.”

“One wyvern at a time,” Seminar answered. “Put her under, Dr. Horn.”

Ren felt the promised pinch. A flood of deceptive calm. Quiet reassurances whispered her panic into a corner. Subdued those feelings until they didn’t exist at all. Her extremities went numb. She could just barely make out Dr. Horn’s words to Seminar.

“I must… the hospital… Her story…”

“… the procedure cannot… delayed.”

Sound and color faded. Ren felt like she was falling through time itself. Drifting back to some ancient before. Back, back, back. Gone. Into lightless nothing.