Page 34 of Silver in the Bone

“Gods, you are so annoying,” he muttered, but did cover his eyes with one hand. “There. Happy? Or are you incapable of feeling any emotion besides spite?”

“Spite and irritation,” I corrected him.

It felt wrong to do it in front of him—something this important, something that could prove to be nothing at all. I didn’t want him to be a witness.

I didn’t want him to see the way my hands shook around the coffee mug, just a little, as I stepped over our joined protective wards. With one last steadying breath, I turned back to the camp.

I inhaled sharply. Two tents, one blue, one red, were there. The campfire. Emrys with his hand over his eyes, his posture growing tenser by the moment. I could see all of it, and more.

Faint, iridescent threads of magic were braided over the garlands, pulsing and shimmering. It was such a small display of magic, but the sight of it electrified me. Exhilaration stole those last traces of anger and filled me with something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joy.

It fluttered in my chest, a softly feathered wing, and for once, I didn’t release it. I didn’t chase it away before it could escape. I reached a finger out toward the threads and one reached back, humming as it curled around my finger. Tugging, as if to pull me back inside the protective circle.

I’d thought I understood so much about the hidden world of magic and had forced myself to be satisfied with only catching a pathetic glimmer of it now and then. The truth was, I’d been even more of an outsider than I’d ever realized, let alone accepted. I hadn’t known anything at all.

I swallowed hard, stepping back over the wards. It felt like sparks were shooting through my blood, and not even my unwelcome companion could dampen the rush. Nothing but death could take the gift of the One Vision away from me now.

“Well?” Emrys prompted.

“It worked,” I said, trying, and failing, to sound nonchalant.

“Great,” he said. “You’ll actually be able to repay my favor, then.”

My jaw dropped. “What happened to ‘empathy’?”

The code we agreed to upon joining our guild had only three big rules: The first person who lays hands on a relic claims it. No one shall ever intentionally maim or kill another guild member. A favor given must be returned on the giver’s terms.

Emrys finished the last of the coffee and rinsed his mug out with some of the water from his bottle. He reached for my mug, forcing me to polish off the rest in a single chug, and cleaned it the same way.

“I should have known you’d reject the code,” he said. “It’s not like Nash ever honored it.”

And just like that, those final traces of my excitement were snuffed out. “I’m not Nash. What is it that you want?”

“When you were feverish, you were talking about needing to check the ruins,” he said. “I want to come with you when you look for whatever it is you think might be there.”

“How do you know I won’t try to pull a fast one on you?” I asked, letting ice creep into my tone.

He only smiled. “Don’t worry, Bird. As fast as you are, I’ve always been faster.”

“You’re an odious little reptile, you know that?” I told him, seizing his water bottle for myself.

Emrys smirked. “Do whatever it is you need to do to stop looking like a walking corpse. We have to be down at the ruins before they open for the day.”

I waited until I was back inside my tent before blowing out a guttering sigh. I changed into the other, slightly dryer undergarments and pants I’d brought with me, wincing at the cold. Emrys was whistling as he smothered the fire, as if to remind me he was still there, waiting.

The fever had unlocked something in me. A memory of the ill-fated Egypt job. No amount of walking around yesterday had shaken it loose because there was no obvious reason to connect the two places. But my subconscious had pushed me toward Nash’s trick of hiding things in doorways.

The castle’s silent ruins had kept his secret for seven long years. Something was buried there; I could feel it down to the marrow of my bones. All I had to do was find it.

We waited until the sun had climbed above the horizon before packing up our camps and venturing to the ruins. So far, I hadn’t seen a tour bus pull up in the village, but I knew it was only a matter of time. We’d have maybe an hour and change before the tour guides arrived to open the site.

I drew in a breath of cold air as we trudged along the path, our boots crunching. It was early October, but the gorse and heath were still in bloom, tempting us to stop and admire them, even with their hidden thorns. The wild grass and ferns had renewed themselves, erasing any trace of the many travelers who had passed over and through them. Here and there, the land seemed to shimmer and wink, hinting at vestiges of ancient magic hidden among the stones and bramble.

After the battering storm the night before, I was rewarded with one of those achingly beautiful golden mornings, the kind that seem to promise the day will carve itself into memory as one of the best.

But I knew how fast things could take a turn, and I was already bracing myself for disappointment.

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