Page 2 of Malcroix Bones Academy (Bones and Shadow #1)

Ankha

“Breakfast!” I shouted up the stairs. “Arch! Get a move on! I have a French test! If you want to eat, you’ve got ten minutes!”

My brother’s face wasn’t the one that appeared at the top of the stairs.

My Aunt Ankha, who’d barely shown an interest in me or my brother, Arcturus, in all the years we’d lived in her house since my parents got murdered at a tube station in London, walked down the stairs and right past me, ignoring my gaping stare.

“Good morning, Leda,” she said primly.

“When did you get here?” I asked.

I never knew where she came from, honestly.

More to the point, I was pretty sure I hadn’t seen her in over six months.

The only interaction between us, if you could call it that, were the envelopes of cash I found on the kitchen counter every few weeks.

I used that money to buy our groceries and pay the ramshackle Victorian’s bills, as well as pay for school tuition at the beginning of every term, the occasional movie, any things we needed around the house, and our clothes.

I’d been my brother’s de facto parent since I was ten years old.

Now he was turning thirteen, and I would be nineteen in six months.

“There will be no…” Ankha’s eyes raked over my uniform and backpack, a barely contained contempt in her stare. “…school today, girl,” she finished haughtily.

I’d just joined her in the kitchen, where I had a plate with fried eggs and toast out for my brother, along with a glass of juice.

Ankha’s appraisal of me included my muddy trainers and my silver watch, which had belonged to my father and rarely left my wrist. It ended on my long, black, and temperamentally curly hair, which was impervious to sun and bleach, would hardly ever do what I wanted, and which I’d mostly given up trying to tame.

I stared right back at her, bewildered at her sudden interest in my appearance.

I suppose I’d taken to viewing Ankha more like a rich, eccentric landlord than anything close to real family.

She’d never been shy about letting us know she’d never wanted us, and couldn’t be bothered to pretend like she did.

Whenever she showed up at the house, like now, it always felt like some kind of surprise inspection.

Even those had grown increasingly infrequent over the years.

They’d never, not to my memory, included an appraisal of us.

Usually she seemed mostly concerned about the state of her house, and whether we’d harmed or burned down any part of it.

For the same reason, her sudden interest in my trainers and hair, and her even more bizarre announcement that I wouldn’t be going to school that day, not only irritated me, it came completely out of left field.

“What are you even doing here, Ankha?” I asked.

She gave me a hard look with her dark blue eyes. “This is my house.”

Leaning on the counter by the sink, I checked my watch. “I have to get Archie to school. What is this little visit about? I scheduled my and Archie’s doctor appointments for next month. Dentist on the twelfth. So whatever this is, I can assure you?”

“Arcturus,” Ankha corrected. “?Will be going to school. He already knows. He is getting dressed. You will not be going. You are coming with me.”

The hell I was.

“Where?” I kept my voice calm with an effort. “What is this about?”

I highly doubted it had anything to do with Archie’s birthday.

Considering my aunt had never once mentioned either of our birthdays in all the time Archie and I lived there, much less given us a single present for any birthday or Christmas, or even visited the house on those days, I highly doubted she had any idea what day it was or why it might matter to me.

Her being there had to be a coincidence.

Still, I struggled to keep my voice polite. Financially, at least, Archie and I were highly dependent on our aunt and her envelopes of cash, even if they’d never come with even a modicum of affection or warmth.

Moreover, I was graduating in just two short months, and I had plans for the following fall.

I’d already been accepted at my top choices for university.

I’d also written out a long proposal to give to Ankha when I got the opportunity, whereby I would take Archie off her hands permanently if she would agree to help support us for the first few years.

I’d been offered a full scholarship at Oxford.

Despite all of my frustration around how long it took, and the three times the school offered to let me skip a year only to have my aunt bluntly refuse, (and refuse to so much as discuss it with me), I was finally going to be leaving Southampton.

Even with the scholarship, I would still need help with rent for a small place near campus, money for food, and, hopefully, tuition money for Archie to finish up somewhere nearer my university.

Ankha was richer than Croesus.

The fact that this particular house was practically falling down, had owls living in the attic, a weed-choked, overgrown garden, and antiques gathering dust, was all about Ankha’s indifference, and nothing at all to do with her financial means.

Money definitely wasn’t the issue.

Convincing her to give a tiny portion of that money to me might even be possible if I worded my request right. I was banking on her wanting to get rid of us both badly enough that she’d agree to my terms, and write me a generous check.

Which meant the last thing I wanted to do right then was piss her off.

I was determined to get free of this place, and of her. School was the only realistic way out I’d ever seen, which is why I’d studied to the point of obsession, every year I’d attended the posh boarding school in Winchester where Archie and I were enrolled.

All of this ran through my mind as I watched my aunt warily.

Like me, she seemed to be circling, deciding on her best approach.

“I can’t explain it to you,” she said, brusque.

“I can see that brain of yours working, looking for some point to negotiate with me, to walk around me, to ignore my words, but it won’t work, niece, so save your breath.

” The large, pointed nose angled higher.

“They only test once a year, and I won’t have you missing another, not now that you qualify?”

“Test?” I blurted. “What kind of test?”

Ankha’s eyebrows formed an annoyed line.

There were elements of my aunt’s appearance that reminded me of my mother at times.

In a certain light, at certain angles, I could absolutely see my mother in Ankha’s face, despite the wide gap in their ages.

The dark blue eyes, the shape of her mouth, the high cheekbones, the straight black hair, the oddly fluid hand gestures, even her voice?all of those things had belonged to my mother in varying degrees, and would surface jarringly in my memories.

But on Ankha, it was as if those things had been sharpened and hardened and stripped of every softness and curve.

It made her appear gaunt rather than elegantly angular.

It made her voice sound less like melodic bells and more like breaking glass.

Even her black hair lacked the life I remembered in my mother’s.

Whereas my mother’s always flowed down her back in a perfect, elegant wave, with just the slightest curl at the ends and around her face, Ankha’s hung lank and tired, cropped in a strangely-layered, unflattering bob that never grew past her jawline.

It was our mother’s warmth that I missed most, though.

“Frankly, it should have been done years ago,” Ankha complained sourly.

“It’s a travesty that I’ve been kept in this…

” She glanced sharply at me, as if remembering I was listening.

“…situation for as long as I have. One more thing I have to thank my darling sister for. This never-ending indignity to our family name…”

I stiffened.

Another part of me wanted to laugh, or maybe roll my eyes. As if Ankha had ever been here often enough to be able to complain about feeling trapped.

Now she had the audacity to simply show up with no notice, start barking orders and making shitty comments about our mother, like?

“Oh, do not get your hackles up, girl,” Ankha spat warningly. “She’s my sister. I’m entitled to my opinion. None of this has been right for years. Which you’d know if you weren’t so entirely ignorant of anything to do with the family.”

Again, I fought to remain silent. Any ignorance I had about my mother’s family certainly fell on her now, didn’t it? Not me? Or my dead mother?

Anka’s harder stare shifted inward.

“There are always those who revel in the fall of the great families,” she muttered. “I’m sure the Ethnarch himself is positively gleeful to see our lineage sunk so low…”

Her voice held a sharp, bitter note by the end.

“…But no, I must pretend that this is somehow reasonable. That the Tribunal’s conclusion to wait until you are nineteen, ‘to ensure the greatest chance any latent abilities might mature’ is meant to be somehow fair, even generous.

Like I should be groveling on the ground they did not send me to the Pyramid, too?”

I opened my mouth, baffled, but Ankha wasn’t finished.

“?But that is the end of that.” The bitterness in her voice grew.

“Unless you embarrass me utterly in front of those jackals today, and they decide I must maintain this charade at the same level of scrutiny until your brother is of age.” She glared at me as if this had already occurred.

“Assuming they decide you’ve been properly cared for all these years, I should get my freedom of movement returned to me, at least. Once your brother is finally gone, perhaps then they’ll leave our family alone, and this ugly chapter will be at an end. ”

As for me, I could only raise my eyebrows at this little speech.

Freedom of movement? The Pyramid? What was an Ethnarch?

And again, when had Ankha ever had any restrictions placed upon where she went?

Her blue eyes grew briefly distant. Then, seeming to remember herself, she looked back at me, and her raptor-like gaze sharpened.