Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
EMORY
P erfect. Just me and the bone collector, who was quickly becoming the pain-in-my-ass bone collector. I could’ve probably come up with a cleverer insult if my brain hadn’t felt like mush after Driscoll’s revelation.
He slept soundly, cuddling with the wolf, which was a weird turn of events, while Maverick and I sat in complete silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
Maverick stared at the ground, brows furrowed, so I could only see the top of his short black hair. Rays of green lit up the crypt as ribbons undulated through the purple sky so far above. My magic was growing stronger, but at this point, it might be safer to stay here. The thought of going back up into that unknown, strange world terrified me.
I drew my knees to my chest.
Maverick Von Lucas. Over the last week, we’d been constantly moving, trying to get that bolt, running from the white wolf, then falling straight into the Deadlands.
But here in this cave, without anything threatening me, I could breathe and... feel the tension of the situation creeping over me .
In the past, I’d sit with the bone collector in silence and feel so at ease. I could spend hours talking to him. Had done both those things multiple times. But doing either of those things with Maverick Von Lucas? I didn’t know how.
I squirmed, trying to get comfortable.
“It’s hard to rest when you’re just sitting there staring at me,” Maverick said from across the space, shifting and stretching his long legs out in front of him with a groan. He lifted his hand, to scratch his jaw, blood coating it.
“Damnit,” he said, examining his fist, skin ripped and seeping.
It must’ve gotten cut open when we’d fallen. With all the adrenaline pumping from our discovery, I could understand how he hadn’t noticed yet. I stood and crossed the space, kneeling in front of him, grabbing his hand—bits of raw flesh hanging from it—cradling it in my own. It had been on instinct, natural. Yet I realized a moment too late what I’d done.
He stiffened.
“We need to clean this and wrap it in something,” I said quickly.
I grabbed the waterskin peeking out of his satchel, pouring it over his knuckles. “It’s the best we can do right now.” I unwrapped the scarf from my neck and wound it around his hand. At this point, it didn’t really matter that the scarf was priceless, an amazing piece of history. It had been muddied, snowed on, torn. It was a wonder I could even still see the blue color of the fabric.
I tsked, staring at Maverick’s hand. “You really did a number on this one. Let’s hope it doesn’t get infected since we have no access to medicine, not to mention no healers, no herbs, not even a poultice...”
I trailed off when I looked up to see his brown eyes trained on me. He was probably about to scold me for how I’d mistreated this scarf, further desecrated his precious life’s work by not taking better care of it. But I realized he wasn’t looking at my face. His gaze was stuck on my neck. The blood drained from my face as I remembered the reason I wore the scarf: to cover all the mottled bruises inflicted by my husband. They’d faded over the last week, but from the way Maverick was staring, I knew however faint, they must still be there.
He pushed away my hand before I could finish tending to his wound, the scarf hanging down, blood still trickling from his knuckles, but he paid no mind to any of it. He reached out, fingers brushing my skin so delicately, a breath escaped me. I couldn’t move. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never touched me, not like this.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, voice low like a growl.
“My husband.” I stepped back, putting distance between us. “Ex husband,” I clarified.
His brows furrowed, muscles bunching under his white shirt. “Your husband,” he said with deadly calm. “Is that why you murdered him?”
“I didn’t murder him, you ass.” I shot Maverick a scathing look. “He was about to murder me, if you must know, and then he had a heart attack, which is the only reason I’m standing here today. I know you have a low opinion of me, but I didn’t realize your opinion was so low that you think I’d murder my own husband. I thought you knew me better.” I stopped abruptly as tears burned at the back of my eyes, and I stood, retreating until my back pressed against the opposite wall.
It hadn’t hurt when Leoni or Driscoll accused me of the same thing. They didn’t know me. But the bone collector? After our games, our notes, our conversations... I’d expected so much more from him. A fact that I hated.
The tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, and I dashed them away before he could see.
But he didn’t even appear to notice. “That fucking bastard,” Maverick said under his breath. When he glanced up at me, his eyes were full of fire. “Arch Historian Gungar said something about it, and I...” His hands clenched at his sides. “I was so shocked by your real identity. I’d met Lord Growley before. Met you. We’d been in the same room so many times, and I never knew.”
“That was kind of the whole point.” I crossed my arms. “You know, what we agreed to. Also, learning your identity wasn’t exactly easy on me, and I didn’t go straight to thinking ‘murderer.’”
“Fucking bastard.” Maverick still stared at my neck, making me itch to cover it again.
I took a steadying breath. “Sorry to shatter your illusion of him.”
“I’m not,” he said quickly. “Sorry, that is. I’m not sorry about that. I’m definitely not sorry that he’s dead. Not when he did that to you.”
The words took me aback. I didn’t know what to say. Everything about this interaction stung, reminded me how little I actually knew of the bone collector. How stupid I’d been to think I’d ever known him at all.
“Is that why you became the white rabbit?” Maverick asked after a beat. “Because you needed an escape from him? Was he always like that?” He gestured to my neck.
I shook my head. “Not in the physical way. He just... wasn’t a very nice man.”
The fire in his eyes blazed once again at those words.
I rubbed my arms. “I became the white rabbit after my mother died.”
His gaze softened. “Ah, I remember you telling me about that.”
“I wanted something for myself in a world where it felt like I had nothing. Where not a single thing, not my body, my heart, my mind, belonged to me.”
Sorrow shone in his eyes. We’d always had a fun, playful relationship where we were on equal footing. I wanted it back. Especially in this moment.
He leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other.
I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I didn’t want to think about Gregory. “Now you know why I became the white rabbit, so what about you? How did Maverick Von Lucas become the bone collector?” I tried to keep the accusation out of my voice, but I failed. “I mean, I don’t really get it. You’re already famous. You already have all the resources and access you could want. So why would you create an entire secret identity to go steal objects that you get to play with for your job? Why would you ever risk that?”
He crossed his muscled arms over his chest. “Maybe that’s what I was missing from my job. Risk. Excitement. Adventure.”
“What does that mean? I’ve heard your stories as Maverick. You’ve been chased by pirates, battled with dragons, swam with seafolk. What more could you ask for?”
He sighed and rubbed his temples.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I annoying you? Do you have better things to do in this dark crypt than talk to me?”
He raised a brow. “I could be sleeping. ”
“You said you weren’t tired. Getting your stories mixed up now, bone collector?”
“Fine.” His eyes locked on my legs, then traveled up my waist, to my collarbone, resting for just a moment on those bruises, before meeting my gaze. “It was you. You’re what made me want to be the bone collector.”
I stilled at that. “What?” I could barely get the words out. “What does that mean?”
“Do you remember that night you were digging in the field behind the academy?” To my surprise, Maverick laughed. “When you found that soldier’s golden helmet?” He grabbed the end of the scarf and finished wrapping his hand with it.
“I remember.” My voice came out scratchy, huskier than I wanted it to. “But how do you know about that?” It had been my very first find.
“Right behind the academy,” he said fondly. “Risky, little rabbit.”
I raised my chin. “It was in the middle of the night. No one was supposed to see me.”
“Well, I’d been working late.” He tilted his head. “In my office, and I was just leaving when I looked out the window and saw a hooded figure in the distance, digging for something. I was curious. So I decided to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I came across someone in a white fur cloak holding that golden helmet. I suspected it was a helmet worn by a general in the Old World army.”
“Then he must’ve died,” I continued, “and his family buried the helmet along with him to honor him.”
“Exactly.” Maverick’s eyes glittered, then he sighed. “My job is a privilege. I love it. But when it started, it came with a lot of restrictions. A lot of rules. I wasn’t even allowed out in the field until later in my career. Just in the last two years, actually. I craved excitement. Adventure. And when I saw you digging in that field in the blistering cold, late in the night—a thrill shot through me. I found you again. And again. I watched you work. Watched you find treasures and artifacts. Then I decided it was time to formally introduce myself.”
That day in the highlands when I’d found the scarf now wrapped around his hand. Whatever I’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.
“After that run-in with the eel at Halfstard Lake,” he continued, “I realized something in my life needed to change. I went straight to the frost queen the very next day, right over the head of Arch Historian Gungar. I told her there were amazing artifacts out there just waiting to be discovered, but we had to be brave enough, bold enough, to go after them. She agreed, only if I reported directly to her. She must’ve liked something about me because she asked if I wanted the role of her historical advisor. She removed Gungar from the position and appointed me, and well, you know the rest.”
I did. He started going on dangerous missions to find rare artifacts, started gaining a reputation and following as Maverick Von Lucas, explorer extraordinaire. And it had been because of me.
“So why did you keep doing it?” I asked. “Once you started becoming the famous Maverick Von Lucas. Why keep being the bone collector?”
His shifted. “There’s something I need to tell you about why I’m here.”
That wasn’t an answer to my question, but I was intrigued, so I stayed silent.
“You wanted to know why I took that bolt. Why I went after it. It wasn’t to best you, little rabbit. I needed it because I knew I’d be coming here, and I also knew that in order to survive and escape, I’d need something powerful.”
“What could possibly be that important that you’d risk coming here?” I asked.
“My sister,” he said quietly, still staring at the ground. “She’s here, in the Deadlands, and I have to find her.”