Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
EMORY, THREE YEARS EARLIER
B lood and frost, it was scorching. Sand, dunes, and rocks surrounded me as I stood in the boiling land of Gilraeth, the sun so hot it shimmered in the air, making the horizon waver in my vision. I swiped an arm across my brow and adjusted the scarf I’d draped over my hair and the one covering the lower half of my face. I’d traded my fur cloak for the traditional clothes of the fire court: baggy harem pants with a light, long-sleeved linen shirt to keep the sun from burning my skin.
When the bone collector and I had met to draw the artifact for our annual challenge, we’d picked a dagger located in the highlands of the sky court.
I’d immediately stuffed the paper back into the jar and proclaimed I had a better idea, one I was very much coming to regret as perspiration dripped over my brow, stinging my eyes. I’d known my husband had an upcoming trip to Gilraeth to speak with the council members, who were ruling in the absence of their cursed queen. Or trying. A sorceress had risen up, rumors swirling she was from the shadow court. She’d taken control of the castle, was using her shadow magic to wreak havoc, and no one had been able to best her.
Gregory was here to represent the sky court, to show them they had Valoris’s support, but to also remind them they needed to get their shit together—and fast. With no official ruler named in Princess Seraphina’s absence, a decision needed to be made before the realm sunk into chaos. We’d see if my husband was successful in his dealings with the fire court council.
A vulture soared overhead, then dove toward what looked like a snake carcass, landing and picking at it.
With my husband’s upcoming trip in mind, I’d suggested an alternative to the bone collector. When we’d first started this whole thing, I’d made it clear we needed to stay within the parameters of the frost or sky court. I wouldn’t be able to venture farther than that. But with my husband’s trip, I figured why not?
Sweat trickled down my back, in between my breasts, down the sides of my face. I wished I could go back in time and kick myself.
“Look at you,” a voice said, and I turned to see the bone collector standing before me. “A little out of your element?”
“Well, it’s only fair.” I spread my arms wide. “You’ve been out of yours a few times now in Fyriad. Time to even the playing field.”
He wore all beige, his signature black cloak gone, his clothing similar to mine. Those copper eyes that reminded me so much of the burnt oranges of the desert sparked with delight. “How do you know I’m out of my element in Fyriad? I’m always in my element, little rabbit.”
I snorted.
“Is this your first time here?” he asked, strolling toward me.
“That sounds like a personal question, bone collector.”
He raised an eyebrow, then ticked fingers. “I know that you think eyeballs are disgusting, but you’re perfectly fine with mummified bodies. I know that you have a weakness for sour berries. I know that your most prized possession is a golden helmet because it was the first item you ever found.” He cocked his head. “I know that you are impatient, stubborn, that you’re always running late. Yet asking if you’ve ever been to Gilraeth is too personal?”
I held back a snort. He’d learned more about me than I’d realized these last few years. The frequency of our notes had increased. I was traveling to that little spot with our hidden jar more often than I’d like to admit. It happened to not be too far from my house in Fyriad, and it was so tempting to make the short walk and check if the bone collector had left me a new note. We talked about so much and hardly anything at all. We never revealed personal details, yet it felt like he knew me better than anyone.
I shot him a smile, even though the lower half of my face was covered. I could always tell when he smiled, could see it in the crinkle of his eyes. So maybe he could tell too. “Let’s just get going.”
I had a dinner to attend later with my husband. I’d told him I wanted to get out of the manor where we stayed, explore the beauty of the court. He had barely heard me, so excited to go to the meeting with the council members and speak on behalf of the sky crown that he couldn’t care less what I did, so long as I showed up at the right times to look good on his arm and, in turn, make him look good.
“Well, I only asked because I wanted to warn you of the dangers that lurk in the fire court,” the bone collector said. “But if you’re so reluctant to give me any personal details, I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself the risks of going after The Book of Yaraho.”
With that, he spun and strode toward a cluster of caves that nestled into a tall, rock structure. It stretched along the flat piece of land, dunes surrounding it. The Book of Yaraho was rumored to be here, in this area, buried somewhere in that cave.
I ran to catch up. “I’m aware of the risks. So how did it go with the sunken ship?”
“Ah, I forgot to update you,” he said from beside me. “Too busy packing for our trip.”
Our trip. Like it was a holiday we were taking together, like my husband wasn’t in the picture at all. Guilt niggled at me. Going behind my husband’s back to create a secret identity, stealing priceless artifacts and hiding them in our home, lying to him for years—none of that made me feel bad. But something was growing between me and this bone collector, and that felt very wrong.
I swallowed. Nothing was happening. We didn’t even know each other’s names, for spirits’ sake. I didn’t even know what he looked like. We were friends, and my husband couldn’t fault me for making a new friend who happened to have the same interests as me.
“And that’s when the shark found me,” the bone collector was saying.
Oops. He’d been talking this entire time. Answering a question I asked.
We came to a stand in front of the dark cave.
“Did you know that shark teeth have poison on their tips? One bite is enough for the poison to make its way to your heart and stop it. Unless you find the antidote first.”
“So where did you find the antidote?” I asked as we ventured inside, the sun blocked out by the cave walls and ceiling.
“Why do you assume I got bit?” He stopped, turning to me.
I crossed my arms. “I thought that was the point of your story.”
He leaned closer, the movement exhilarating, his face so close to mine that I could see the small freckle beneath his left eye. “The point of my story was that I got the treasure chest from the Losotros shipwreck.”
A famous shipwreck. The Losotros were a clan from the Old World who exclusively lived on their massive ships, but a calamity at sea caused their entire fleet to be wrecked, all of them wiped out from a single natural disaster. All the Losotros’s ships had been destroyed except that last one, which was nearly impossible to get to because of the location: right by a vortex in the sea where the water constantly moved, anyone who came too close at risk of being sucked in and drowning.
The bastard did it.
I envied him in moments like these. The fact that he could travel to the edges of the continent, to access places like that while I was limited to Fyriad and Valoris, made me burn with jealousy.
“Well done, bone collector.” I whirled and moved farther into the cave, which split into three different paths.
He pointed to the left. “I’m going this way.”
I nodded to the right. “You’ll be seeing me again as I’m running away with The Book of Yaraho.”
His back was to me as he stalked in the opposite direction, yelling over his shoulder, “You always have been too arrogant for your own good. ”
I rolled my eyes, continuing on my chosen pathway through the cave. I reached into the pocket of my pants and pulled out a match, which I struck and lit, illuminating the narrow space. Hopefully I’d chosen the right way. I didn’t like being in these enclosed spaces where it would be so easy to get stuck, buried alive, caved in. Many things could go awry. Again, I wondered what in the bloody frost I’d been thinking when I suggested this.
The fire burned brightly on the match, giving me just enough light that I could see in front of me, watching the ground to make sure there were no sudden drops or ridges. Skitters and patters echoed around me, and I wondered what creatures dwelled in this place. I knew of some: snakes, fire lizards, desert rats. But other texts I’d read in my research alluded to more ancient creatures that lurked in these caves across Gilraeth.
Hopefully they’d died along with everyone else in the Old World.
Still, that familiar thrill threaded through my veins at the challenge, the excitement of it all, propelling me forward as the path wound down, getting so steep I had to sit on my bottom and scoot until I could go no farther, the rock dropping off in a sharp decline. Hopefully this path didn’t go too far underground. I didn’t even want to think about the climb back up. I dropped my match and watched as the fire fell through the air, so far the light disappeared.
I really couldn’t be late for dinner. In the past, I’d planned these little escapades when my husband would be out of town, when I had plenty of time. This was different. Stupid of me. I’d been so eager for something new I hadn’t thought about all the risks. Yet the thought of finding that book kept me going. Except I’d just dropped my match and had no light to see in front of me. My legs hung over the rock, and I bit my cheek, wondering if I should just start climbing down and see what happened.
As if the universe heard my thoughts, fire erupted in the air. Flames dotted the air, floating lights decorating the space before me. I sat on the edge of a jutting ledge, and my eyes widened as I realized what I was seeing: a huge cavern. Round and bottomless. Cave openings dotted the upper parts, circling all around, and jagged ledges protruded from the caves .
Even with all the light illuminating the vast space, I couldn’t see the ground below. But I didn’t need to. A tall rock rose up in the center, and there on the rock lay the book.
It was said to have been written by Spirit Fire himself. A tome full of his mandates. It could tell us so much about the Seven Spirits. I blinked a few times, the flames that hung in the air seeming to move.
“Of course you’re already here.” The bone collector appeared in the opening of one of the caves on the opposite side of the cavern.
“Well, I won’t be here for long.” I pointed to the column of stone where the book sat, noticing a series of smaller columns leading to it. I could easily hop from each one. This was already going in my favor. “Just going to grab the book and be on my way.”
“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, little rabbit.”
He pointed to the flames, a few of them floating closer. Enough that I could see they had eyes... and sharp teeth. Not flames at all. Fire sprites. They filled the space, and they didn’t look happy.
I’d heard about the sprites that lived in the mountains and caves of Gilraeth. The winged creatures were the size of my hand but could ignite on a moment’s notice, incinerating their victims. I’d also heard they had the ability to steal someone’s magic, to absorb it into themselves, though I didn’t know if that particular rumor was true. Either way, I had no desire to find out.
I racked my brain as a few sprites bared their black pointy teeth. This didn’t bode well. Sprites were created by Spirit Fire, answered to him alone, and once he disappeared, they retreated, supposedly waiting for his return before reemerging into society. In the meantime, they guarded his treasures, any artifacts connected to him, fiercely protective. Which was why no one had gone after that book.
I held out my hands. “Please, I’m just here for the book.”
One of them hissed, and every single sprite turned their wide eyes, which took up nearly half their faces, on me. Behind them, the bone collector began climbing down from his cave opening .
“You miss your master, right?” I asked, the sprites slowly congregating around me. “Well, I’m a scholar. A historian. I’m trying to uncover truths about him, about his history. I want to understand what happened to Spirit Fire and all the spirits. I want to better understand the way they lived, the way they ruled.”
The sprites’ flames licked and leapt around their bodies. If I used my magic, I’d forfeit. The bone collector won our last game, running away with that diadem that I’d found on the lake. I did all the hard work, almost died, and he got the glory. The competitive side of me refused to let that happen again.
The bone collector fished a rope out of his satchel, making a loop at one end and lassoing it. He missed the first few times, but eventually, the rope landed around the tall column. Meanwhile, the sprites’ attention was all on me.
“You’d do well to turn around and go back where you came from,” one of the sprites said, her voice low and raspy, like smoke drifting through the air. Her bright fuchsia eyes flashed, promising danger if I didn’t listen.
By now, all of them had me surrounded, and I could barely see over the flames flickering from their little bodies. Together they looked like one massive ring of fire. Just over the blurring heat of the flames, I could see the bone collector swinging through the air and latching onto the rock.
Damnit. Time to play dirty. Just like he had at Halfstard Lake.
“I would, but I kind of want to see how this plays out.”
The fuchsia-eyed sprite stiffened. “How what plays out?”
The bone collector scaled the column, so close to reaching that book laying at the top.
“If he gets the book or not.” I gave an innocent shrug.
All the sprites whipped around at once as their gazes locked onto the bone collector.
“Don’t let him get the book!” a sprite yelled, and they all rushed forward.
“Thank you for that,” the bone collector called as he froze on the column, right near the top.
I smiled from underneath my scarf, and then backed up and took a running leap through the air, landing on a shorter column that jutted up from the darkness. I landed on my feet, the force shoving up into my bones, and making me bite down on my tongue. Ow.
The sprites swarmed the bone collector right as he pulled himself to the top of the column and grabbed the book.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned. “Or I’ll destroy it.”
He wouldn’t dare. He’d die before letting any harm come to such an important text. But they didn’t know that. The sprites froze, all of them at a standstill. The bone collector slipped a dagger from his boot and pointed it right at the center of the book.
I leapt to the next column, wavering on my feet before regaining my balance. One more to go. I reared back my arms and jumped again, crashing into the column and wrapping my arms around it. My muscles ached, already fatigued, but I was so close now.
The sprites closed in around the bone collector, but none of them moved to strike against him, his threat working nicely in his favor. Still, he had no escape plan, while one was forming in my mind.
I worked my way to the top of the column, boots and hands finding every crack and crevice they could lodge into. My arms and legs shook, and sweat drenched me, the scarf around my head and face sticking to my skin. I’d have a lot of explaining to do to my husband about my current state.
I wouldn’t think about that right now.
Focus on the mission . I was not Emory Growley. I was the white rabbit, and I would get that book.
“Set me on fire, and the book gets set on fire,” the bone collector was saying. “Push me and the book falls with me. Stab me, and I stab the book. Quite a conundrum.”
“You can’t stand here forever,” one of them hissed. “You’ll tire eventually, and you will hand over that book.”
Finally I reached the top, peeking over the column. The bone collector teetered there, his eyes flicking down to me. I gestured for him to throw me the book. He gave a slight shake of his head, and I widened my eyes meaningfully.
Yes, this was a game we both wanted to win, but we also wanted history to prevail. We both cared far too much about these objects and preserving them, learning from them, to let our egos get in the way.
“Drop the book,” I mouthed , “and I’ll help you escape.”
My muscles quivered with exhaustion, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hang onto this thing.
His jaw locked. He closed his eyes, paused for what felt like the world’s longest minute, and let the book go with a heavy sigh. I snatched it from the air, then quickly flattened myself to the column as the sprites shrieked and dove headfirst into the darkness, both of us forgotten as they flew deeper and deeper, their shrill, panicked yells filling the air until they were finally far enough away for me to let out a breath.
“You’re welcome,” I said as he grabbed one of my hands and heaved me up. We both slumped down, sitting back-to-back, legs hanging over the side. “Also, I win.”
“I’ll let you have this one, only because you saved my life,” he said, voice weary.
“I’d say we’re even now.”
The sprites’ flames disappeared as they dove deeper down, so far below I truly wondered if there was a bottom to this place. When they finally did hit the bottom, they’d realize the book wasn’t actually missing.
“How long do you think it’ll take them to search for that thing?” the bone collector asked, leaning his back against mine.
“Long enough for us to rest before climbing back down.” I stretched my arms overhead, cracking my neck.
I could feel the hard muscles of his back, the broadness as it stretched against mine. I looked down to see dust shimmering on the pedestal where we perched. Red and glittery. I swiped a finger over it, wondering if it had come from the sprites. I hadn’t seen dust like this before, and I was about to ask the bone collector about it, when he spoke.
“Twice now we’ve almost gotten killed. Why do I feel so exhilarated by that?”
I reached behind and nudged him in the ribs with my elbow. “Maybe it’s in us to be thrill seekers. Sometimes I think I love the pursuit, the chase, as much as I love actually getting the artifacts. ”
He smelled like sweat and embers, and I took a deep inhale of it.
“What’s your favorite part of it all?” He shifted, his back rubbing against mine.
I stayed silent.
“What? Is that too personal, little rabbit?”
“I’m thinking, you ass.”
He chuckled, and the sound rumbled down me, vibrating into my skin.
I looked down at the thick leather-bound book in my lap. “Don’t get me wrong, I love exploring, traveling to dangerous places, not knowing what I’m going to face. But this.” I held up the book, even though he couldn’t see me. “This is my favorite part. The potential. What I’m going to learn from this. Not just from reading it but from studying the writing, the ink used, the type of parchment, the binding. There’s so much story here. A story I get to unfold.”
“Wow.”
“What?” I said, wondering if I got too carried away.
“That’s it. The potential. That’s my favorite part too.” He paused. “So what do you do with all these items you collect? Do you just hoard them away, plan to sell them off on the black market.”
“You insult me.” I scoffed, then swiped the back of my hand over my soaked brow. “If you really want to know, I would love to open a museum one day. A place where I can offer this knowledge for free. Funded by the frost court so any citizen who wants to learn can do so.” I waited for the sarcastic response, for him to tell me it was never going to happen, but he didn’t.
“You’re just full of surprises, little rabbit.”
I wasn’t the only one. The more we talked, got to know each other through these challenges and our notes, the more I was beginning to realize the bone collector might be more like me than I ever realized. In a world where I’d always felt so alone, he made me feel like I had someone. And that was terrifying.