Bonesmith (House of the Dead, #1)(100)

Her? Both Leo and Julian turned to look at Wren, and she was reminded of the conversation between the regent and the captain. The third target.

Wren didn’t know what “proceed” meant, but she could only assume it had something to do with that boy, the legions of undead… and the fact that Wren could command them, the same as him.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to. I don’t have her. You’ll need to find another way—”

“She is the only way.”

“She’s dead,” he snapped back. “Somewhere near the fort. It’s over.”

The woman took a slow step forward, bones rattling. The regent’s men tensed but didn’t act—the iron revenants loomed large and threatening without moving a single rotted muscle.

“Death is not the end.”

A collective shiver went through the entire group, as if an icy breeze had blown down the alleyway, though there wasn’t a hint of a wind. Even Wren felt it.

“We’ll find you another bonesmith,” the regent said reasonably. “There are hundreds west of the Wall.”

“It is her, or it is no one,” the queen said, complete and utter conviction in her voice. Wren thought again of that messenger in the Bonewood, the ring in her pocket…. What if this was not the first time the queen had come calling for her?

One of the Red Guard moved from the back of the group to the regent’s side and whispered in his ear. Wren feared their escape had been detected, but the regent nodded and turned to the queen.

“I’ve requested a private parlor at the inn. It’s ready. Why don’t we step inside and discuss a solution that suits us both?”

“Why don’t you step inside alone, Regent, and think of a solution yourself. I’ll be taking my revenants with me, and you’ll have no further use of them until I am satisfied.”

She turned on her heel, walking away from the regent—whose expression tightened with frustrated rage—into the shadows of the alley and away from the main street.

Thus far Wren had only been able to see the side of the queen’s head, but now she caught a glimpse of the face—or rather, the impression of a face behind the veil. Wren kept telling herself that the woman wasn’t actually a corpse; she just commanded them. But she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the sight of the woman gave her.

Especially when her gaze flicked up to the rooftop and landed squarely on Wren. Her eyes were visible through the fabric, shining an even more shocking shade of green than the ghostsmith boy’s, and they bored into her.

Fear pierced Wren’s gut, rooting her to the spot.

She expected the woman to stop, to point or cry out… but she kept moving. When at last she looked away, it was to turn her head slightly and speak to one of the iron revenants. It halted in its tracks, while the rest continued. It didn’t crane its head or look her way, but it didn’t need to. When it spoke, the words echoed as loudly and clearly as if they’d come from inside Wren’s own mind. And they might as well have, because no one else could hear them.

“Come to me when you are ready to know more. Come to us. I know you feel it. Blood calls to blood and like to like.”

And then it walked away.

Wren stared, unseeing, at where it had stood until Julian touched her arm.

“You ready?” he asked, and she blinked, realizing the iron revenant had gone and the alleyway was empty. The regent had returned to the inn—he’d discover their disappearance in no time. They had to move.

They leapt the gap between buildings, climbed down a trellis, and made for the exterior wall.

“We should take horses,” Leo panted, trying to keep up with them as they ducked between buildings and ran past the glow of lantern lights.

“Even if we managed to steal them, how do you propose we get out of here?” Julian asked. “If we reveal ourselves at the gate, we’re finished.”

Leo cursed. “They’ll find us. We’ll never outrun them.”

“Maybe we won’t need to…,” Wren said, glancing back toward the inn. “When do you suppose they’ll discover our absence?”

“Imminently,” Julian said.

“And then what?”

He considered. “Well, they won’t know which way we’ve gone, which means they’ll have to check everywhere. They’ll search the inn, the rest of the town, plus send riders out both gates. He won’t want to risk his men in the Haunted Territory at night, but he won’t have much of a choice.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” Wren said thoughtfully. “He’ll have to split them up.”

Julian’s face changed—he saw where she was going with this. She’d known he would. “He has, what, twenty Red Guard with him? And ten extra soldiers from the kidnapping party. Without the iron revenants at his disposal, he’ll keep six, minimum, to protect himself. Of the rest, he’ll need… at least twenty to properly search this place, even if the locals help. There are too many buildings, streets, and dark corners. Plus the walls themselves will need to be checked.”

“So that leaves four?” Leo said.

Julian nodded. “He’ll divide them, send two riders out each gate.”

“Three against two,” Wren said with a smirk. “I like those odds.”