Silver in the Bone (Silver in the Bone #1)(110)
Author: Alexandra Bracken

 

“Your mind is intolerable,” Caitriona told me.

 

“Look.” I tried again. “I don’t like the idea either, but it did seem like she controlled the Children at the lake. I think we have to accept the possibility that she allowed the transformation so she could continue her work in secret or become closer to invincible.”

 

“Blessed Mother,” Olwen said, pressing a hand to her chest.

 

“What if it was the Ring of Dispel?” Emrys said suddenly. “I’ve been wondering all day how she came to have it. What if Mari was right, and the ring has a corrupting influence? Could it have caused her to do all of this?”

 

Olwen shook her head. “The only ring she wore was one of moonstone . . . but . . . perhaps she kept it hidden on her? I will not deny that she had secrets, or that she enjoyed collecting those of others.”

 

“Or it played no role in all of this,” Neve said. “And the revenant happened upon it somewhere in the forest.”

 

My own theories were still too thin to voice, and, ultimately, they didn’t matter. The athame and ring were within reach, and now it was just a matter of figuring out how to find the revenant and take them from her.

 

Which, as my wounds clearly demonstrated, was easier said than done.

 

“A revenant is a parasite. It has to feed on magic to maintain a physical form,” I said. “Is there someplace north of here that’s still protected by old, strong magic? There’s such a thing as high magic, right? A spell you ask the more powerful Goddess to cast on your behalf through ritual?”

 

Olwen and Caitriona exchanged a look.

 

“Yes,” Caitriona said cautiously. “Why?”

 

“Because that’s the kind of magic she’ll want, and most likely where she’s headed,” I said.

 

“So to destroy a revenant, you first have to cut it off from that magic?” Neve clarified, intrigue and horror warring in her expression.

 

“Right. You’d have to remove the old spellwork.” I turned back to the two priestesses. “Is that site far from here?”

 

Caitriona rose from her seat. “That is none of your concern, as you’ll be returning to the tower with the others.”

 

“What?” I said. “No!”

 

Caitriona pulled the various pieces of her steel and leather armor back on, stubbornly refusing to look at the four of us. Neve sat on the arm of my chair with a sigh, shooting me a worried look.

 

“You are not leaving here without us,” Olwen told her.

 

“Who will stop me?” Caitriona asked with a haughtiness that was truly earned.

 

“No one, you wonderful, glorious fool,” Olwen said. “I know where it is too, and I’ll just bring them there myself.”

 

Caitriona’s braid whipped around as she whirled on Olwen, eyes flashing. Olwen didn’t so much as flinch.

 

“I am not so delicate, Cait,” Olwen told her softly. “And she was my High Priestess, as well as yours. You should not have to face this alone.”

 

“It was my mistake,” Caitriona said roughly. “I should have—”

 

“Stopped Sir Bedivere from doing something he kept secret until yesterday?” Neve offered. “How? Tell us, and we’ll let you go alone.”

 

Catriona’s grip on her gauntlet tightened, her jaw working.

 

“Everyone here understands the risks,” I said. “And between all of us, we can figure out how to stop the revenant and get the athame and the ring.”

 

“You still desire the Ring of Dispel?” Olwen asked, surprised. “Knowing what you know about it?”

 

“If the renewal ritual doesn’t work as intended, it may be my brother’s last hope,” I said.

 

Caitriona’s nostrils flared with her next hard breath. “Come if you must, then. But only after Olwen finishes her work and restores herself with water.”

 

“I don’t need to, I promise,” Olwen said. “I don’t feel weak or even tired, and I’m not about to haul in a tub of snow to melt.”

 

“You will,” Caitriona said, a gentle order. “I’ll not have you or anyone else hurt.”

 

She returned to her armor, wincing as she shifted her bad shoulder. She lifted her arm to her mouth in visible pain, trying to use her teeth to tighten the gauntlet.

 

“Here,” Neve said, coming toward her. “Let me help you.”

 

Caitriona suddenly looked like a fox caught by the tail. “No, truly, I can . . .”

 

Her words trailed off as Neve gently turned her wrist up and began to work the leather laces as if she had done it a thousand times before.

 

With her head bent over her work, Neve was too focused to notice the way the other girl had stilled, or the way the hardness of her expression had eased. For a moment, it didn’t seem like she was even breathing—as if Neve were a feather that might drift away with even the smallest stirring of the air.

 

Olwen’s finger prodded the stitches in my arm, sharply drawing my attention back to where she knelt in front of me.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Dear me,” she said with a pointed look. “A thousand apologies for my rough handling.”

 

I raised my brows. She raised hers back.

 

Emrys leaned over my shoulder, watching as she dabbed oil on the wound—oregano, by the pungent smell of it—and then a waxy ointment that she warmed between her fingers before gently massaging it into my skin.

 

“This is a deep wound,” Olwen began, a small tremor in her voice. “It must have been terribly painful when she . . . when the revenant cut you.” She drew a breath and looked up. “Viviane never would have done this if she were—if she were still herself. I’m so very sorry.”

 

“I know, and there’s nothing to apologize for.” I caught Emrys’s eye. He gave me a small, reassuring smile, and I knew I couldn’t keep withholding the other important piece of information I’d learned at the barrow. “There’s something else you should know. About me.”

 

The others listened with varying degrees of horror as I spoke. Once or twice, Olwen seemed on the verge of bursting with some thought or question, but managed to hold it in—until she couldn’t.

 

“Your bone was silver? It wasn’t merely a vision?” she asked, eyeing the stitches.