He touches my shoulder lightly. “I won’t say anything. You can trust me.”
An image of Declan rises in my mind. His bright green eyes dancing with laughter. Color flooding his pale cheeks the first time we kissed.
“The last time I trusted someone, he got my mother killed.” I turn away to find a cluster of Breakers looking back and forth between me and Bram with curious expressions.
Behind me, Bram starts to say something more, but then one of the crew members comes past us carrying a bundle of tangled fishing net. “Could I get a hand with this?”
“Of course.” Bram hurries forward and whatever he was going to say is forgotten. Our ship arrives in the middle of the night. The harbor is lit by a full moon and puddles of pale yellow light from the oil lamps lining the pier. It’s quiet, except for the occasional screech of the Watcher-controlled birds that circle overhead.
Ivory Hall gleams in the distance like a diamond against a velvet sky.
Norah meets us onshore. “Saskia,” she says, catching my hands in hers, “I’m so relieved to see you.” Her silver hair glimmers in the moonlight, and is twisted into a knot at the back of her head.
“It really wasn’t necessary to send so many people to travel with me.”
She gives me a tight smile. “I assure you, it was.”
A chill goes through me, and I pull my gray cloak more tightly around my shoulders. The Grand Council’s search for Latham must not be going well.
Norah’s gaze sweeps over the group of Breakers and lands on Bram, who is standing a few steps closer than the others. She turns to him. “I’d like to speak with Saskia alone. Why don’t you go on ahead? I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
Bram’s eyes meet mine just for a moment. He lifts one hand in a silent farewell before jogging toward the broad lane that leads to Ivory Hall. All but one of the Breakers follow him, and I’m left alone on the pier with Norah and a huge man with chiseled features and dark hair cropped close to his scalp. He wears a black cloak with a thick white stripe on the sleeve.
“This is Rasmus,” Norah says. “He’ll be assigned to you for the duration of your training. You’ll be safe enough within the walls of Ivory Hall, but if you need to leave for any reason, Rasmus will accompany you.”
I swallow. “A bodyguard?” Being constantly watched on the trip here was bad enough, but the thought of someone following me for months makes me feel like boarding another ship and sailing straight back to Midwood. “Am I in that much danger?”
“It’s out of an abundance of caution,” she says. But her worried expression tells a different story. She touches me lightly on the shoulder. “I assure you, Rasmus will be discreet. You’ll barely know he’s there.”
The Breaker is the size of a small mountain. I’m certain I’ll know he’s there.
“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you,” Norah says. She threads her arm through mine and we begin walking. “I’m sure you’re still devastated about what happened with your mother.”
Beside her, I stiffen. “Latham killing her, you mean?” I have no patience for my mother’s death being dipped in sugar to make it more palatable.
She doesn’t respond for so long, I think she’s reconsidering her intentions for this conversation, but then she sighs. “I don’t mean to downplay it. But I do need to know I can trust you.”
My breath lodges in my throat. Does she know I lied about being matched as a Bone Charmer?
“What makes you think you can’t trust me?” I try to keep my voice steady and hope Norah can’t hear my heart thrashing against my rib cage.
“When grief mixes with anger, it can work on us like a poison. Make us do things we otherwise would never consider.”
She knows. She must.
I glance over my shoulder at Rasmus, who looks alert and ready to spring into action. Maybe he’s here to detain me instead of protect me.
“I never intended to—”
Norah pats my arm. “I’m not accusing you of anything,” she says. “The Grand Council just needs to know that you’re going to let them take care of searching for Latham and meting out justice. I’m sure vengeance is tempting—it would be for anyone—but this is something the council is far better equipped to handle. Promise me you’ll let them?”
I’m so grateful we’ve moved away from the lamplight, so that the darkness hides the relief I can feel melting over my expression. She’s not confronting me about something I did in the past. She’s worried about what I’ll do in the future.
And she should be.
But I can’t let her know the truth—that something ugly has been festering inside me for weeks now: a hatred that burns so brightly, I feel as if I’m on fire. And along with it an aching desire for revenge.
“If I knew how to find him, I would have tried already.” It’s as honest an answer as I can muster. Because I’m determined to recover my mother’s bones no matter what assurances the council wants. But staying in the capital—in Norah and the council’s good graces—will give me the best chance of success. Latham lived and worked here. He must have left clues behind.
Silence stretches between us, an empty space that Norah is waiting for me to fill with a vow.
“I don’t have a plan for revenge,” I say finally. “I just want my mother’s bones back.” Strictly speaking, it’s true. Latham will pay for what he’s done—I intend to make him wish he’d never drawn breath—but I don’t have a strategy at the moment. My skills are no match for his. Not yet.
“We have our best people working on returning them to you,” she says, squeezing my arm. “I promise.”
Norah and I continue toward the wide lane that climbs to Ivory Hall, and my erratic pulse slowly returns to normal. Rasmus follows behind, moving as silently as if he were weightless. It occurs to me that Norah intends for him to be my jailer as well as my guardian. I can’t search for Latham very effectively if I’m being followed every time I leave Ivory Hall.
At least she accepted my response without forcing me to make a commitment. Norah didn’t get a promise from me tonight.
But I’m glad I got one from her.
“Brace yourself,” Norah says when we reach the enormous entrance to Ivory Hall. Bright moonlight illuminates arched double doors inlaid with a design of branches that mimic the Shard River. We’ve been climbing the hill for the better part of half an hour and my legs are tired and twitching.
“Brace myself for what?”
“You’ll see.”
Rasmus goes in first, and Norah and I follow closely behind.
I press a hand to my chest. It’s as if we’ve stepped directly from the crisp autumn air into a winter palace made of snow and ice. The floors, walls, and ceilings are made from the same white stone as the exterior of the building. Huge chandeliers hang from above, casting soft light around the grand foyer. Dual staircases—with white steps and white banisters—curve elegantly toward the upper floors.
A gentle hum comes from somewhere in the distance.
Norah touches my elbow. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes,” I say, turning toward her. “I just didn’t expect it to be so beautiful.” A furrow appears between her brows, and a thread of unease goes through me. I feel as if I’ve failed some important test. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”