Page 11 of Mistress of Bones

VIII

AZUL

True to her word, Lina del Valle ordered her cook to prepare a fast dinner and instructed one of her maids to bring a selection of clothes that might suit Azul and Nereida.

It was decided that the two of them would travel to the capital in the morning with a couple of Del Valle’s guards as escort—she would not have it any other way.

By the time they were given a guest room to sleep in, the fist gripping Azul’s heart since learning Isadora’s bones weren’t in Monteverde had lessened in strength. Plans had been put in place, so simple they surely couldn’t fail.

Unless the emissary’s death caught up to them.

Azul shoved the thought away as she tried to get comfortable on the bed she was sharing with Nereida.

De Guzmán slept with a dagger.

Azul wished she had one to do the same.

How many ships crossed the sea every day? How long would it take for someone in a hurry to secure passage? Of course, an emissary wouldn’t worry about such mundane things. They could simply demand a spot, and who would say no to Death’s own?

Hard to believe the Lord Death still had such control over his land. Did the other gods reign over the rest of the continents like he did? Were they angry their subjects had never thought to create emissaries for them, or did they laugh at those who lacked faith in them?

She wondered idly how other countries treated the gods.

Did they tie up their wishes to the Lord Life’s legs in Divinad?

What about Bixe, where they favored the Lord Nightmare?

Did they spend their days hoping their deity would avoid visiting them at night?

Or perhaps they celebrated their god in other ways—wishing them onto others or trying to become a nightmare themselves through fights and words and fearsome acts.

Did they spend their days wondering if the gods were even real or just another tale, or were they fervent believers like the Valanjians and their emissaries?

She had heard stories of traditions beyond Sancia, but they rarely mentioned how they dealt with their gods.

Azul had always assumed this lack of information was because their praying wasn’t that different, that there wasn’t so much difference between tying up your hopes to the Lady Dream’s legs and hoping for a loved one’s return in front of the Lord Life.

“Why did you believe me so easily at Diel?” she whispered to the ceiling, dark and austere in the early summer night. Her fingers toyed with the fabric of her borrowed nightgown. “Had you heard rumors about me before? The… the emissary knew about me.”

Nereida, lying on her side and facing the door, took some time to answer, and when she did, Azul was surprised she’d answered at all. “I believe there are grains of truth in every old tale.”

“There are tales?” Azul asked, astonished. “About what I can do? You called me something. You know the name of my gift?”

“Necromancer.”

“Necromancer,” Azul repeated, tasting the word on her lips. It sounded no better than malady . “What does it mean?”

“Death riser.”

The words sent chills along Azul’s spine. Such a bleak choice of words when all she did was bring beings back to life. “Why have I never heard of something like that?” Azul knew all kinds of scary stories, and she had never heard one by that name.

“It’s an obscure tale in the North. I doubt many know of it.”

“You did,” Azul pointed out.

Nereida didn’t respond, and Azul felt the silence press on her, forcing her thoughts to meander once again.

“We should’ve left this evening,” she murmured. “Whoever they send after us might catch up if they ride fast.”

“They won’t. It will take time for them to figure out what happened and decide what to do. We don’t know if the emissary knew of our destination.”

Azul winced. “I let it slip when he was questioning me.”

“It is of no consequence. If they send someone after us, I will take care of them the same way.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“I’ll use my rapier.”

Azul’s head snapped to look at Nereida, then relaxed. There was something comforting about sharing a bed with someone so self-assured; it made her feel at home. Azul and her sister had shared a bed until they moved into the bigger house in Agunción and earned separate bedrooms.

What a terrible feeling, knowing Isadora wasn’t a knock away, that if Azul slipped out of bed and made her way to the next room, there would be no sister to welcome her. No late-night talks or wonderful nights lying next to vibrancy and warmth.

Azul closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to wander. There was a tug now in her mind, and she hadn’t noticed how much she missed having a link like that.

Following it, she touched the bird’s consciousness, so far away now, and felt its mind acknowledge the nudge and open to her intrusion.

With animals, such a link was easy. Azul had tried it with Isadora once, in a fit after a sibling fight, and found that human brains were too complex for the link to be used in such a way.

Maybe with time and prodding, such things might be possible, but Azul had had no wish to do it. Azul wanted her sister, not a doll.

The bird was perched on a low tree branch, and the sight of a building sprawling ahead felt familiar enough that the animal must’ve been looking at it for a while.

It had the makings of a Sancian building rather than Valanjian.

Lamps shone bright in the night, spilling light from the windows and wide-open door.

Sudden neighing startled her, and the bird burst into flight, chirping in alarm.

The land fell below, the dark shape of the building took form, the few treetops, the path leading up to the road, the vast blackness of the fields in the distance.

Soothing the bird, she directed it downward, watched the world rush up to her until the bird found footing by the stables.

A groom saddled a fresh horse while another mare drank greedily from the trough.

Someone shouted by the entrance of the building, the words warping strangely through the bird’s hearing.

Azul examined the surroundings eagerly, her body and spirit weightless and free.

She nudged the bird onto the saddle, testing the material with its claws while the groom brought the horse closer to the entrance.

More noises, more sounds. Frantic. Yelling.

Someone demanding haste? Movement over the dirt path.

Another horse, huffing from exhaustion, its coat dull with the dirt of travel. A hop to get a better view.

The link was suddenly cut.

Azul gasped, choking on her pounding heart.

The bird was gone, killed by a well-placed smack from one of the grooms, no doubt.

Beside her, Nereida craned her head to study her in the shadows, then returned to face the door.

No questions, no further concern. Nereida left Azul alone with her nightmare, and Azul understood.

Nightmares shouldn’t be shared, even though she hadn’t been dreaming, and Azul would not confess that another being she had brought back to life was now, again, dead.

Dead like Isadora.

Lying here, with Nereida by her side where Isadora should have lain, the capital seemed continents away. The empty hole inside her chest felt big enough to eat Monteverde whole.

“Whom do you mean to have me bring back from death?” she asked, grasping for something to keep her afloat.

Rustling noises, movement next to her when Nereida rolled into a different position. “We shall use an inn when we get to Cienpuentes. Think of a name for yourself instead of this questioning.”

But thinking was the last thing Azul wanted to do. “Is it true the nobles at court wear so much Anchor they shine like stars?”

“Your sister told me during the trip that your mother birthed one or two heirs of the court,” Nereida said. “Did she lie, or do they not acknowledge your existence?”

“My mother’s business is private. Aside from Isadora, I have met only two of my half siblings, one of whom sought me out without his sire’s knowledge.”

“How did you and your sister end up with your mother instead of your natural fathers?”

“Isadora was the first, the one who made Mother realize how much she loved carrying babies. Without Isadora, I would not be here.”

“And your father?”

“His wife died while Mother was still pregnant, and so the contract was nulled. He offered to raise me anyway, but Mother decided to keep me. Money was not an issue by then. Mother is beautiful, the children are always healthy. Her services command good money. Sometimes I think she’s the Blessed Heart made flesh and bones.

” A sort of emissary, perhaps , Azul thought, for another god and under another name .

“And she never sought to marry? To be kept by one of her clients?”

Azul laughed. “Mother does not like romance, except for what is required to produce a child.” If Azul were to be honest, she did not think her mother liked children that much once they were out of her.

Isadora had been a revelation, Azul a whim, but they had often been left in the hands of family friends and tutors—and in Isadora’s case, the Temple’s school—while their mother was away bringing another child into being.

“Why do you think they send the bones to Cienpuentes?” Azul asked.

“How can they have space for all of them?” And why had the innkeeper told Azul they would be in Monteverde after her sister’s death?

Was it because they had believed a ten-year-old unworthy of the truth, or had those people at the inn known no better either?

The Lord Death’s refuse, the man had called bones. Maybe people around these parts simply didn’t care to know.

Nereida offered no answer, and Azul rolled to lie on her side, facing the curtains. They were dark red, simple but of obvious quality. Thick enough to block the sunlight. Thick enough to stop Luck and Wonder from peeking in.

Closing her eyes, Azul tried to link back to the bird only to remember the bird was gone. If she hadn’t been so curious about the commotion at the building, if she hadn’t forced it…

Regrets, Azul reminded herself as she closed her eyes, would take her nowhere.

And, as the night advanced and no one came to demand their presence, Azul finally drifted to sleep.