Page 2 of Malcroix Bones Academy

A hotter, sharper pain stabbed at my chest. The familiarity there hurt so bad my eyes stung, my vision blurred. That time, though, I obeyed.

I reached out with both hands. I grasped the stone tightly, and lifted it.

I don’t know what I expected to see.

A part of me thought it would be gone, that it would no longer be there.

But it was.

The green crystal lay just under the stone, exactly like the day I placed it there. The bronze chain shone unnaturally bright, as did the crystal itself. No rust or moss had grown on either. Neither looked dirty despite rain and snow and spring and fall for over nine long years.

It didn’t make any sense.

It looked brand new. Spotless.

Like I’d placed it there minutes ago, instead of nine and a half years in the past.

I only stared at it for a minute.

Then I reached out, scooped my mother’s crystal up in one hand, and put it in my pocket.

2

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’sde factoparent 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.“…schooltoday, 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 ofus.