Chapter 60 #3
Aedric. The Full Circle. Every story I'd ever been told had painted the Firstborn as creatures that should never have been released.
And seeing what the Bone-Wrought had been capable of even reaching through the Veil...
seeing how a single Vaelorii had reduced Solmire to ash within minutes...
even the way Rìan had controlled hundreds of minds at once in Pelaga...
it was impossible to deny the danger they posed.
Myself included. I'd reduced guards to mist with a single thought, just as my own kind had done to the Flame army.
The Bone Mother must have seen the conflict on my face. She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“History is always kinder to the victors,” she said softly. “Especially when the victors are the ones who write it.”
She released my hand and reached into the pouch at her waist. Her elongated pinkie nail emerged dusted with chalky powder.
“You may think us monsters for what we do,” she said. “That we hunt the Fae. Eat them. Grind their bones into dust and breathe them into our own bodies.” She shrugged. “We adapted, Elowen. We had to. They came to our shores looking for a new world after destroying their own.”
She paused long enough to lift the powder to her nose, inhaling sharply before rubbing the lingering flecks along her gums.
“Yes,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Humans were here first. So were the lesser faeries. And the Firstborn. It was the Fae who came later. Who corrupted the Veins and stole their power from the land. They dammed the flow of magic, twisted it to serve themselves... and then they began to kill.”
Everything I'd ever been taught claimed the opposite.
Saskia shifted closer, eyes bright. “We resisted. Humans and faeries. Again and again. That's how our people became hunters.”
“But the Firstborn…” I said carefully. “Are they not deadlier than the Fae?”
Saskia snorted, but the Bone Mother simply looked toward the hut where Rìan lay.
“Your kind were always... forces of nature. A hurricane does not choose sides—it simply destroys everything in its path. The rest of us merely learn to stay off that path.” She winked.
“Your human blood has tempered that part of you, I can see it. Just as his,” she said, jerking her chin toward the hut, “was tempered by Fae blood. Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t stomach the cruelty of his people.
He turned against his own kind to protect the rest of us.
That’s how we were able to claim the Barrows for ourselves. ”
I blinked. To the Bone Women, Rìan wasn't the villain of the story. He was the reason they’d survived.
“We've honored him ever since, and we will continue to do so for as long as the Bone Women endure.”
“You were there... three hundred years ago?”
She patted the pouch at her waist. “The Fae may have learned to harvest the Veins. But we learned to harvest them.”
She leaned back against the fallen log, resting her elbow along its length.
She plucked at a strand of white hair. “The Dust slows our aging, but eventually our bodies stop accepting it.
Each dose buys us a little less time than the last. Until, one day, it simply isn't enough anymore.” She reached over and gave Saskia's knee an affectionate pat.
“Saskia will be wearing my shoes before long. I can feel it.”
Saskia grumbled beneath her breath, though her hand found the Bone Mother's for a fleeting moment before the older woman gently pulled away.
Once more, she dipped her nail into the pouch and sharply inhaled another measure of Dust. She coughed, then licked her nail clean. This time, though, a tremor ran through her as the powder settled inside her. Saskia watched in silence.
She returned her knowing gaze to me. “I don't know what it is you seek in the mortal lands, but if I know Rìan, it will have everything to do with freeing Elantis and taking vengeance on those who wronged him—wronged us all. So we will assist you, any way we can.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“No thanks are needed, Eidra. The purposes of the Bone Women have always aligned with those of the Firstborn. That has always been our way.”
She planted her hands on her knees and rose with a quiet crack of protesting joints.
“What if...” I hesitated.
She paused, brows lifting as she looked back at me.
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “What if his purpose is to destroy all the Fae?”
“A noble cause,” she replied without hesitation.
She couldn’t mean that. Surely not all the Fae were bad! “What of the powder? If every Fae dies...” My voice faltered.
The Bone Mother's smile only widened, her eyes dancing with quiet amusement.
“We'll have plenty to harvest from the dead.
And when it's all gone—as one day we hope it will be—we'll be glad to see the end of it.
Without the Dust, our people would fall to the Fae.
Protecting them—that is our calling. But perhaps one day we can simply be...
human again. Live and die beside our own, with no greater purpose than to enjoy the little time we're given, as we were always meant to.”
Her gaze lingered on Saskia, warm with affection.
“That would be nice, Saskia, don’t you think?”
Saskia smiled through shining eyes.
“I think we'd all like that very much.”