Page 27 of Silver in the Bone

A slight movement caught my eye. I glanced up through the window in front of me, only to be met with the sight of an enormous toad staring right back.

I startled. “God’s teeth—”

The toad didn’t blink. Instead, it let out a loud, irritated croak. And then, when I didn’t move, another.

I leaned over the sink and opened the window. The toad had nestled down into the window box I used to grow herbs, including a bit of rosemary to keep any wandering spirits with bad intent from slipping in.

“You’re crushing my mint,” I complained.

The toad jumped up onto the windowsill, revealing the small bit of black ribbon attached to its leg. The mark of the Sorceress Grinda—crossed keys—was embossed in silver.

Finally, I thought.

We’d finished her job weeks ago, but she hadn’t wanted me to deliver it to her home somewhere in Italy, as she was away “dealing with grave matters related to the Council of Sistren.”

I’d assumed she simply didn’t want a mortal, let alone a Hollower, to know the location of her main residence. Most sorceresses didn’t. Though others, like Madrigal, were simply too powerful to fear anyone.

“I have it,” I told the creature. “Give me a second.”

I dashed into the office alcove, slowing as I approached the card table I used as a desk.

Where my half of the alcove was a chaotic storm of papers, bolts of fabric, magazines, books, and various broken tools I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of, Cabell’s was as neat as a pin. Most of his crystals were carefully organized in clear acrylic containers, with others left on the nearby windowsill to charge in the light of the next full moon.

I retrieved the ruby-encrusted locket from the safe beneath the desk, unwrapping the silk to ensure all was present and accounted for. Its stones glowed in greeting, and I quickly covered it again before it could inflict whatever infernal curse it no doubt possessed.

“Got it,” I told the toad, only to hesitate, unsure of where to put the locket.

It dutifully opened its mouth, but I held the locket just out of reach above its warty head.

“Payment is due upon receipt,” I said, “and we can only accept cash or the equivalent in gold or gemstones—”

The toad croaked and made a retching noise. One, two, three chips of sapphires dropped into the planter’s dirt, coated with a thick layer of mucus. The toad’s mouth stayed open, the bubbled membrane of its vocal sac extended as it let out an impatient croak.

I leaned over the sink, carefully, gently, placing the locket inside its waiting mouth. “Don’t choke on it.”

The companion turned and leapt back into the night.

“Yeah, a pleasure doing business with you, too,” I muttered, digging out the sapphire chips and washing them under the faucet’s sputtering stream. I didn’t shut the window, needing the cool air.

The quiet of the house wrapped around me again, interrupted only by the sudden blare of a neighbor’s TV bleeding through the wall.

I poured myself a glass of water, futilely tipping some of it into Florence’s pot. The sight of the plant tore at me in a way I hated. It looked ... finished.

My brother’s words drifted through my mind, slipping into the quiet of the kitchen with the chilled autumn breeze.

What’s so great about this life that I have to fight to stay in it?

I pressed the edge of the glass to my lips, my gaze sliding back over to the door. If that was what Cabell wanted, to let go, then ... did I have any right to interfere?

“Yes,” I whispered.

Before I realized what I was doing, I dug my tarot deck out of my bag and slid the cards free of their velvet pouch. I didn’t shuffle them, I only set them down beside Florence and turned the top card over.

On it, a woman in a white dress sat blindfolded, holding two crossed swords in front of her. Behind her, a rocky sea. Above her, a crescent moon. A portrait of balance. Careful deliberation. Advice. Two of Swords.

Weigh the options. Take your time. Listen to your intuition.

“What the hell am I doing?” I dropped the card.

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