Silver in the Bone (Silver in the Bone #1)(92)
Author: Alexandra Bracken

 

I drew in a deep breath, looking to Emrys. He seemed satisfied with Olwen’s explanation, but I wasn’t.

 

“He rambled on about a she trying to master death but becoming its servant instead,” I said. “Couldn’t that be the person behind the curse on Avalon? Why are you so sure it isn’t Caitriona?”

 

“Oh, you wee fools,” Olwen said, shaking her head. “Follow me.”

 

Rather than bring us back to the great hall, Olwen drew us down the familiar path to the chamber of abandoned objects. She muttered something to herself, shaking her head, as she pushed the massive doors open.

 

When we reached the hidden doorway to the bone room, she whirled around, giving us both a hard look.

 

“Know that I would never show you this for any other reason than to prove my sister’s innocence,” she said. “And if I hear a whisper of you repeating this, it’ll be hemlock tea for the both of you.”

 

As she turned to press on the white stones, Emrys leaned over to me. “Hemlock is—”

 

“—a poisonous plant,” I finished. “Yeah. Threat received.”

 

The stones pulled back, allowing us passage up the stairs. We climbed in silence until, as we reached the last steps, we heard it.

 

A song.

 

Intoned by a rough, despairing voice—one that begged as much as sang. The hair on my arms rose at the breaking words, the sobbing that turned the Goddess’s language from a prayer to a lament.

 

Beside me, Emrys’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow. The rawness of Caitriona’s emotion was unbearable. Olwen stood on the step beneath us, blocking any instinct I had to turn away from it.

 

Hear this, her eyes said. Witness it.

 

After a few moments more, she relented. We followed her down the steps and into the chamber beyond.

 

“Caitriona comes every night she is able to in her role as High Priestess to give the Moonlight Prayer, which thanks the Goddess for her blessings and asks for protection in the coming day,” Olwen said. “You have found the inner sanctuary of the tower. Secret to all but the Nine—and now, it seems, the two of you and Neve.”

 

“It’ll stay secret,” Emrys promised.

 

“I know that Cait may seem as unbending as her blade—that when she speaks to you, she cuts to the heart, rather than using pretty words to soften the blow,” Olwen said. “But I beg you to understand her position. She feels the burden of responsibility for our way of life, and all of it is slipping away, no matter how hard she fights to save it. She blames every death on her own failings.”

 

Guilt left a sour taste on my tongue. I wondered if it was the same every night she came here—if this was the only place she allowed her pain to show. I’d thought they were in denial about what was happening to them, that it was a sign of their weakness, but the strength it must have taken to just make it through each day without shattering was almost unthinkable.

 

“What about the sculptures?” Emrys asked. “And the cauldron and the cages?”

 

The stones pulled themselves open behind us and Caitriona emerged, lifting her hood with her uninjured left hand. She stopped at the sight of us, and her entire being seemed to tense as if preparing for a fight.

 

“We’ve had some curious mice running through the underpaths,” Olwen told her.

 

“It was you that night, wasn’t it?” Caitriona asked, her voice hoarse. “I knew I smelled smoke. There are some secrets that are not meant for you. You had no right coming here!”

 

“We had every right when we—correctly, I might add—assumed you were keeping things from us,” I said.

 

“You question our honor?” Caitriona asked.

 

“No one doubts your honor, or your honesty, but they have seen everything,” Olwen said. “All of it. And even you must acknowledge how dark it might appear to the uninitiated.”

 

Caitriona drew in a wheezing breath, clearly resigned. “Do you still have it in the infirmary?”

 

“Yes,” Olwen said. “I’ve yet to finish with it.”

 

“It?” Emrys asked, looking between them.

 

Caitriona started toward the great oak doors. “Come along and I’ll explain.”

 

 

 

As it happened, we weren’t the only ones who wanted a word with Olwen. Neve was already there, pacing the short length of the infirmary. A large tome, Rituals of the Realm, sat beside the small rack of bottles and vials on Olwen’s worktable. Candles flickered around her, tracking the shifts in the swirling air.

 

At the moan of the door opening, Neve pounced. “Olwen, why didn’t you—wait, what’s going on?”

 

“A good evening to you as well, Neve,” Olwen said dryly. “How fortuitous you’re already here.”

 

Neve looked between Emrys and me, but her surprise was reserved for Caitriona, who shut the door firmly behind her.

 

“Come out, Flea,” Caitriona said.

 

Neve jumped as the girl crawled out from beneath the lower shelves.

 

“How long have you been there?” Neve asked, clutching her chest.

 

“Long enough to hear you muttering and fluffing up your courage like a goose,” Flea said. She glowered at the older priestess. “No way ye saw me, Cait!”

 

“No, in truth, I did not,” Caitriona said. “But Betrys complained to me that one of her prayer stones vanished, which happened to coincide with you disappearing from your lesson with her.”

 

The girl stuck out her lower lip, crossing her arms over her chest. “Wasn’t me.”

 

“Must we do this every night, Flea?” Caitriona asked, some of her exhaustion breaking through to the surface.

 

“Only ’cause ye make me,” Flea countered.

 

“Empty your pockets and prove that your word is good,” Caitriona said.

 

The girl only hung her head, sulking. “I’ll give it back.”

 

“Thank you,” Caitriona said. “Please do so now and apologize to her. This is not a courteous way to treat anyone, let alone your sister.”

 

“But—” the girl protested.

 

“Now, Flea,” Caitriona said, opening the door for her.

 

Flea sent one last look my way, some smugness slipping into her smile, but did as she was told. Caitriona locked the door behind her, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against it.