Silver in the Bone (Silver in the Bone #1)(67)
Author: Alexandra Bracken

 

I looked right at Neve as I said, “Neve wasn’t told the truth about something and she’s angry at me.”

 

“Tamsin,” she said, staring right back, “doesn’t quite know how to apologize yet and needs to learn to trust and open up to others.”

 

“And Flea,” the little girl said, “thinks both of ye are batty.”

 

“Flea!”

 

The girl straightened at Olwen’s sharp voice as the other priestess came around the tower. She would have bolted if I hadn’t gripped the back of her tunic and held her, squirming, in place.

 

“Ye traitor!” she snarled, still trying to fight her way free.

 

“Ye shouldn’t have taken my coin,” I told her.

 

“You are an hour late to your lesson,” Olwen said, arms crossed.

 

“I don’t need lessons,” Flea said. “Not your kind, anyway.”

 

“Oh?” Olwen said. “You don’t need to learn how to call your magic or perform our rites?”

 

Flea’s lower lip jutted out.

 

“I’d like to learn how you do those things,” Neve said. “I’m sure it’s different than the way I learned.”

 

The priestess smiled. “Of course, Neve. You’re always welcome.”

 

“I’m so behind in my studies,” Neve began, “it would be helpful to have a second, equally knowledgeable priestess to help me . . .”

 

“Ah,” Olwen said, not missing the way Flea’s head lifted at Neve’s words. “My sisters are all at work or training, and so I do not know where we might find such help . . .”

 

Flea made an och noise at the back of her throat. “Well then, it’ll be me that ’elps.”

 

“Really?” Neve asked. “You’d do that for me?”

 

The girl gave her a look. “Don’t make a fuss ’bout it. It’s only ’cause yer so pitiable.”

 

“Flea!” Olwen admonished. “Apologize to Neve.”

 

“It’s all right.” Neve’s gaze slid over to me. “At least she’s honest.”

 

The girl lifted her shoulder. “We going or not?”

 

I watched them until they had disappeared into the tower, delaying my next task as long as I could. The little carved bird in my pocket seemed to grow heavier as the lessons continued behind me.

 

 

 

I found Emrys in the walled garden next to the infirmary. He was on his knees, working something into the dark soil there. His hair was tousled, and there was a streak of dirt across his cheek. As he leaned forward, the open neck of his tunic gaped, revealing a hint of the muscle there, but also the gnarled ropes of scarring. Absently, he shooed away a few of the sprites swarming around his head.

 

A small smile touched my lips as I leaned over the stone wall, trying to get a better look at what had him so wholly absorbed.

 

Soil sniffer, greenthumbie, leafkisser. There were so many contemptuous names among Hollowers for Emrys’s Talent. Greenworkers were believed to be largely worthless in our line of work, and most were thought to be eccentrics who tottered around greenhouses cooing at flowers. The way Emrys used his power was much more considered—meditative, almost.

 

Emrys set about replanting the unrecognizable shriveled greens around him. Every now and then, he’d stop, holding their thin white roots in his palm—nodding to himself, or to them, I wasn’t sure. Next he added something to the soil, or dipped the plants into a small pail of water, before returning them to the ground.

 

“Oh, you must be Tamsin,” came a voice from behind me. It was Seren. Her golden-blond hair had been braided, but loose strands clung to the sweat on her face. Her dark brown eyes fixed on me as she shifted the basket of linens to her hip. “I was wondering when we’d meet.”

 

Emrys startled, the shell of his ears going bright pink as he looked up and found me watching.

 

“I’m like a bad penny,” I told her, “wait long enough and I’ll eventually turn up.”

 

Seren paused, processing those words.

 

Even in the gloomy daylight while they should have been at rest, the Children never stopped with their chittering and screeching. I wrapped my arms around my middle, trying to fight off the chill.

 

“Can I ask you something?” I began.

 

“Of course,” Seren said.

 

“If you all have magic, and at least some weapons,” I began, “why not try to kill the Children of the Night with fire while they’re exposed like this? Or at least attempt whatever spell Neve performed that first night?”

 

“We haven’t yet identified the spell she used, and as for the Children . . .” Seren shifted the basket again, her mouth in a tight line. “They were once our friends and family. Somewhere inside them, they still are, and if we can destroy the darkness plaguing the isle, there is still some hope that they may return to us.”

 

“Do you actually believe that?” I asked her. “You’ve seen how thoroughly the magic, or whatever it is, has corrupted them. What exactly are they going to turn back into?”

 

Seren’s expression hardened, and I knew there’d be no answer for me. “As you missed the morning’s meal, I wanted to make sure you knew there was bread in the kitchen.”

 

And with that, she walked away.

 

“As determined as ever to make friends, I see,” Emrys said, standing. He wiped his hands on a rag, then tossed it back onto his shoulder as he came to the other side of the wall from me.

 

I held up the carved bird, letting my irritation shine.

 

“You got my message,” he said, grinning.

 

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

 

“Oh, it’s no joke,” he said. “The tree was a bird many lifetimes ago, so I set it free.”

 

I stared at him, trying to work out if he was actually serious. In the end, I didn’t want him to think I cared enough to ask.

 

Emrys braced a hip against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. His gray eye was as pale as the sky, his green one like the flecks of leaves still clinging to his shirtsleeves. He no longer seemed to feel the need to hide his scars. For a moment, all I could focus on was the way he smelled like mint. That must have been what he was replanting.