A Burning in the Bones (Waxways #3)

Chapter 43 Nevelyn Tin’vori

43 NEVELYN TIN’VORI

Nevelyn raised one eyebrow when Ren Monroe took her seat in the war room.

“I’m surprised you stayed.”

Ren frowned at that. “Why wouldn’t I stay?”

“Because you’re in love with him. He’s going to fight a dragon. I just… I would have put money on you going with him.”

Unbidden, she saw a glimpse of Garth. Not the version she’d grown fond of either. No, she was forced to see him the way she had at the end. His throat slit. His eyes lifeless. She had to physically shake her head to get rid of that image. She’d suspected Ren might try to sneak away with the other crew, because Nevelyn would do anything to see Garth again. Ride a wyvern. Face a dragon. Fight an army. All she had left of him was Josey, and she was already fiercely protecting him. Fighting to keep that last talisman of the one person who’d really seen her as she was, and loved her as she was. It felt ridiculous to hold anyone else to the same standard, but she’d simply assumed Ren would do anything to stay by Theo’s side. The girl seemed to read her thoughts.

“We aren’t ever fully apart.”

Nevelyn frowned. “Like… spiritually?”

Ren snorted in response. She looked as if she were going to keep whatever secret she possessed, and then thought better of it. “No. We are bonded. Magic always develops oddly between two bonded people. There are always unique traits that develop. Ours is that we can pull each other across the bond. From location to location. Think of it as a private waxways. I can get glimpses of what he’s doing, hear what he’s saying, but I can’t communicate back. It’s only ever activated during moments of heightened emotion.”

Nevelyn leaned back in her chair, mind racing. She considered keeping her own secrets—and then realized Ren was trying to build trust. She didn’t know what she’d gain from keeping this girl as an enemy. In every sense, their fates were now tied together.

“So, that’s what happened with Ava.”

Ren went very, very still. Nevelyn knew this was a girl who’d spent most of her life hunting or being hunted. She was quietly calculating how to respond. Finally, she spoke.

“Your sister… who I assumed was dead until about half an hour ago.”

Nevelyn raised one eyebrow. “How do you know she isn’t?”

“You asked about nonmagical family members,” Ren noted. “There’s literally no one else who that could be. Josey has magic. Dahvid too. I assume that Ava… somehow survived? She reunited with you. And somehow you kept her hidden all this time, but she caught the plague. Which means she’s currently waiting out at the Tin’Vori estate for further instruction.”

Nevelyn leaned back in her chair. “Gods, you really are annoyingly smart, you know? Yes. She’s waiting on our estate. I’ve sent a letter letting her know about our plans to travel to Meredream. I hold no ill will about what you did. You didn’t know who she was—and even if you did, she was about to kill Theo. You did what you had to do. Ava might… dislike you?”

Ren snorted. “Well, I can handle that.”

“She tends to communicate her displeasure with her knives.”

“A Tin’Vori who holds a grudge. How unsurprising.”

It was Nevelyn’s turn to snort. “You’re one to talk.”

“Fair. Speaking of surprises, I’m dreadfully curious about what happened at Beacon House.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

“Barely. How’d you resist Avid’s spell?”

She tapped the charm dangling from her necklace. “My magic is tied to this. One side allows me to push someone away. I can ask them to ignore me—or to forget me entirely. That’s the spell I used on your mother last year in Ravinia. It was a useful gift, growing up the way we did. On the move from town to town. If I encountered a bully, I learned how to just… slip by them. But that’s not my only gift. It took years to figure out the other half of my power.”

“You can pull them too?” Ren guessed.

One day, Nevelyn would grow accustomed to the girl always being right.

“Yes. I’ve always called it my beholding magic. I don’t use it very often. It’s not as comfortable. The curse of being an introvert, I suppose. I prefer not being seen. But if I want to, I can make someone see me. Force them to focus all of their attention on me. I can…” She lowered her voice. They were alone at the table, but it wasn’t something she cared to share with anyone else. “Sometimes I can make them obey me. Bend them to my will.”

Ren was nodding. “Your magic hid you from Avid’s spell. That seems… useful.”

This time Nevelyn snorted. “It is.”

The two of them were quiet for a moment. Nevelyn had always felt a begrudging respect for Monroe and that feeling had only grown in the last few minutes. There was just one fence left to mend. “You tried to kill my sister,” Nevelyn said. “Left her for dead in the snow. Why?”

“Because she was about to kill Theo. He… pulled me across the bond. Like he had before. Only this time I was standing there watching him die. I was so desperate that I actually physically traveled to Nostra. I hit her with a spell. I’m sorry, Nevelyn, but I didn’t know it was your sister. I just knew that Theo was about to die. What would you have done?”

Nevelyn would have done anything to save the people she loved.

“That’s interesting,” she said.

“Is it?”

“Yes. Last year, under threat of death, you told us you didn’t love him.”

Ren nodded. “It was true.”

“I know it was. Otherwise you would have lost a limb. But it’s not true now.”

The girl’s eyes flicked over to the windows. The wyverns had faded from sight. Nevelyn had watched them leave too. Ren’s eyes fell to the floor.

“No. It is not true now.”

A deep chasm seemed to open up in Nevelyn’s chest. She completely understood Ren’s position—and she also despised her for being able to say what she’d just said. Why had the person she loved been spared? Why had Garth had to die? Sweet Garth. Nevelyn’s eyes swung back to the window again. The empty skies. Maybe Ren would know that pain soon enough.

I hope no one has to know this pain.

Before they could say more, the air around them fractured with magic. Two figures appeared in the small gap between the table and the back wall. Both were frozen in a dangling sort of limbo. Their feet hovered just above the ground and their eyes were eerie, unfocused. Nevelyn recognized that brief moment where the body arrived before the mind.

Avid Shiverian had returned. Hunched at her side was an elderly woman who bore all the same physical features: a small nose, a sharp chin, crystal-bright eyes. The two of them had looped their arms delicately together. It was clear Avid was offering stability to the older woman as their feet finally set down on solid ground. Ren was the first to break the silence.

“I completely forgot about your grandmother.”

Avid was helping the older woman into the nearest chair. Ren’s comment drew the attention of their new guest. Her eyes were that creepy, piercing blue that Nevelyn had only ever seen in the elderly. “Oh?! Am I her grandmother all of a sudden? Gods help us all. I’m sorry, but when did we start defining the older generation by the younger? My name is Ingrid Shiverian. When my granddaughter here invents the foundational spells for isometric physics, you can start referring to me as her grandmother. Until then, show a little damn respect.”

Well, I like her already.

Nevelyn and Ren exchanged smiles. As soon as the woman was properly settled in her chair, she looked around, baffled by what she saw. “Well? What the hell are the three of you waiting for? Do I need to blow into a horn to get you moving? Bring me the maps. Go on. Get moving.”

Avid gestured for them to both stand and follow her. “We need to go to Balmerick’s main library. There should be topographical maps of the surrounding regions. My grandmother needs the most up-to-date versions. If we can find the correct information, she might be able to adjust the wax sculpture in the portal room so that it features the area near Meredream. Then everyone would just have to light the candle for that location and wait for the portal spell to activate. Solves our supply issues.”

Ren always shivered a little at the thought of using the portal room, but that unnerved feeling was quickly snuffed out by the possibility that the sculpture she’d used week in and week out could be altered after all this time. “How can you alter the magic? Wouldn’t you need the original artist? I thought someone named Gothen made it.”

She only knew that because Theo had mentioned it during his argument with Avy. A justification for why he should be allowed to put his boots on the wax. The sculptor was a “family friend.” Ingrid Shiverian offered Ren a mysterious smile in return.

“I have always said that you want to be the right amount of powerful. Too much, and your enemies will posture against you. Too little, and they won’t respect you. Gothen is the name we used to veil some of our talents. An effort to maintain that delicate balance. You do need the original spellcaster. Luckily, you have her.”

She gestured to herself—and then dismissed them with one of the rudest backhands that Ren had ever witnessed. Like someone shooing servants away from the dinner table.

“Now, be a dear, and go get what I asked for before I fall asleep.”