Page 126 of Silver in the Bone

“What if we tried to catch the cloaked figure?” I asked, voice low. “Whoever it is. I think that’s the only way anyone will believe us, and we can find out once and for all if they’re actually controlling the Children.”

He grinned. “You know me. Can’t resist a good game, even if it’s just hide-and-seek.”

So that was what we did, scouring the tower and its outer walls until our bodies grew tired and we stole a few hours of sleep. The next morning, I woke to find the little bird at my door once more, and I placed it by Emrys’s the next, that same message passing between us, the hope it carried as delicate as a feather. Tonight? Tonight.

There was an unexpected comfort to our explorations. Sometimes we whispered about things we had seen during our days: he’d update me on how the crops were faring, and I’d tell him something interesting I’d read while researching with Neve in the library. We even talked about past Hollower jobs.

Mostly, though, we shared an easy silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with nervous chatter, or anything other than the knowledge that we weren’t alone.

The rhythm of our days reminded me of being little and learning to swim. As the gray light faded each afternoon, we took one last deep breath before submerging into the dark and whatever it would bring. Dragging ourselves through the churning unknown of the resting hours until, finally, first light came and it was time to surface once more.

On our third night of searching, I arrived in the great hall earlier than I’d intended, and Emrys wasn’t there.

There was only a smattering of wood shavings dusting the floor under his usual spot at the table. The scant trail led to the hidden door, carelessly left open a sliver.

He went ahead without me.

The thought left me hollow at my core. I didn’t know why I was surprised, either. Emrys might have called a truce, but this wasn’t a partnership. It never had been, and it never would be. Clearly, he’d found something he had no intention of sharing with me.

My thoughts sputtered in futile circles as I slipped inside and shut the door behind me.

I didn’t have my flashlight, but I now knew my way down over the steps and roots well enough to navigate them. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, but there was no need. Up ahead, the lone beam of Emrys’s head lamp turned the corner.

I followed, my steps quick and light as I took each curve. Once or twice I was tempted to call out to him, to let him know he hadn’t managed to pull a fast one on me, but each time I stopped myself.

More than anything, I wanted to know what he was doing down here alone. What he hadn’t wanted me to see.

Rather than continue along the hallway to the storage chamber, Emrys turned to the corridor choked by roots. Turned, and stretched a trembling hand out toward them. And this time, instead of reaching back, the roots receded, inviting him into their depths.

He stepped through. The roots braided themselves together behind him.

A strangled noise escaped my throat as I rushed forward, contorting my body to push through them. Their rough skin slid against mine, squeezing in on all sides. The branching limbs wove around me, blocking the way forward. The sight of Emrys became smaller as the living wall closed between us, and for one terrifying moment, I thought the roots would crush me alive.

“Emrys!” I shouted.

A root slid around my throat and tightened—only to release. The roots cracked as they twisted and lifted away, revealing a shocked Emrys. I shot forward, colliding with him. He caught me with a gasp of surprise.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“What am I doing here?” I croaked, shoving him back. “What are you doing here? I thought we were—”

I couldn’t get the words out, but they were there in my throat, aching. I thought we were doing this together.

He shook his head, and for the first time, I realized he looked dazed, the way he had the first night he’d brought me down into the passage. “I just ... I heard something ...”

“You always hear something, right?” I asked. “The Mother tree must be talking to you every second of every day.”

“No,” he said, gripping my arm again. Stilling me. “No, I heard a voice. A man’s voice.”

My lips pressed together in a tight line, and I cocked my head to the side, studying the deepening shadows beneath his eyes again. “Have you slept since we got here?”

Emrys said nothing, leading me forward. He put a hand out, and the roots that had knotted together in front of us fell to our feet and drew back, rattling over the stones.

The beam of his head lamp swept out. The floors and walls were scarred with burns and pocked with missing stones, as if some tremendous fight had blistered them. Ahead, the hall ended abruptly with a bulging mass of rough wood.

“Is that ... ,” I started to say.

“Part of the Mother tree?” Emrys finished, taking a step forward. “I think so.”

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