Page 65 of Silver in the Bone

The old knight spoke in such a fatherly manner, gentle with his advice and calming in a storm of emotions. Both Caitriona and Olwen adored him like a father—it was clear in the way they looked to him and responded to his words.

“I will work quickly to spare your stomachs,” Olwen said.

Using a different metal tool, she opened a sickly flap of skin on the back of the skull. Beneath the wrinkles of the shriveled layer of flesh was the gleam of pure silver, as if the entire skull had been dipped into a molten vat of it.

“Hellfire,” Cabell said in amazement, stooping to get a better look. “This happens to all of them?”

“All of them, and all of their bones,” Olwen said. She looked to Neve, who was peering at the skull with obvious fascination. “Neve, perhaps you might be able to help me in my research. My knowledge of cursework is admittedly quite thin, and we do not possess many such accounts.”

“Of course,” Neve said, her eyes widening. “I’m sure we can figure this out.”

My brows rose. That was quite the optimistic take.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Olwen said to Neve. “How we are born of the same isle and to the same Goddess, but now use our magic in such different ways. But I am glad to have met you, Neve, and though they may be frightened now, I know my sisters will come to share my gratitude.”

“I can think of at least one who wouldn’t agree,” Neve said.

“She only needs time,” Olwen promised. “If I am absolutely certain of anything, it is this: the Goddess led you here to us. All of you.”

As Olwen spoke, I watched Bedivere’s reaction. The old knight had seen his share of death and darkness, and his stony expression gave his thoughts away. He recognized the futility of the situation, just like I did.

“And I’m glad of it,” Olwen said, “for there have been many days when it has felt as if the Goddess has turned her heart from us. Yet here you are. The path opened for you.”

There was a faint knock on the door, and Betrys stepped inside, hugging a bundle to her chest. “You missed supper again.”

“Well, I was rather preoccupied,” Olwen said defensively.

“When are you not?” Betrys said in gentle admonishment.

Betrys set the bundle down on the table and opened the fabric to reveal a small chunk of bread and what looked like cold gray stew. My mouth watered.

“Thank you, sister,” Olwen said.

“I don’t need thanks,” Betrys said. “I need to know that you’re taking care of yourself. You’ll go to the pools tonight, won’t you? Any of us will be glad to accompany you.”

“Yes, yes,” Olwen said dismissively.

Betrys glanced over her shoulder at the rest of us. “I’ve orders to bring you to the springs to wash. You’ll be given a change of clothes the others will find less alarming and be brought to private chambers to rest.”

“What about our stuff?” I asked.

“You’ll be reunited with your belongings there,” Betrys confirmed. “However, there have been questions raised about this—”

She reached into a bag at her side and pulled out a familiar bundle of purple silk. Cabell coughed, sending me a look of Do something.

Emrys stood from the cot and came forward, intrigued. I watched the slow rise of his eyebrows as Betrys unwrapped Ignatius and held him up into the candlelight. His crusty eye remained mercifully closed.

Botheration. I’d completely forgotten about Ignatius. How had Septimus not stolen him—how had he not fallen out in all the chaos of the last two days?

I clasped my hands behind my back, and it took just about everything in me not to react in the silence that followed. Over the years, I’d learned that a speedy defense only made you look guiltier.

“Oh—I have one too!” Olwen said, delighted. She went back to her shelves, lifted the fabric from one of the covered jars, and proudly displayed a wretched-looking hand suspended in that same green gunk.

Olwen beamed. Betrys shuddered.

“You do it on purpose, don’t you?” Betrys asked weakly.

“Never,” Olwen said innocently. She covered the container again.

---