“Ivory Hall is made entirely of bone,” she says. “Most Charmers become quite ill upon arrival.”
Inwardly, I wince at the misstep. I search my memory from reading Gran’s bone. How did I react in my alternate past? An image rises in my mind: the room spinning, a buzz in my ears, overwhelming nausea. Why don’t I feel any of that now? I shouldn’t have come here. I have too many secrets to keep, and eventually one of them will land me on Fang Island.
Suspicion sparks in Norah’s eyes as she studies me. I press the backs of my fingers to my mouth, and her expression relaxes just a fraction. Maybe she’s mistaken my panic for illness. It might be the only thing that saves me.
“Could I sit down a moment?” I ask.
“Ah, it’s caught up to you,” she says, not unkindly. “Of course you may.”
Norah guides me to a chair and a strong feeling of having sat in this exact spot before overtakes me. I think of my mother’s words as she cradled Gran’s broken bone at my kenning. We’ve done this before. I wonder if she felt then as I do now—like she was hearing the melody of a long-forgotten lullaby, but the words were just out of reach.
A pang of longing for her hits me so hard that it snatches my breath away. The grief comes in waves, crashing over me when I least expect it, before receding again. But I don’t think it will ever disappear. It will be lapping at the shores of my mind forever.
The hum in the room grows louder. I look around, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.
“What is that noise?” I ask.
“It’s just the walls whispering,” Norah says nonchalantly. “It will fade.” She holds out a hand and pulls me to my feet. “Let’s get you some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
Norah leads me down a corridor off the main foyer. We pass a large dining hall with tables that stretch the length of the room, and beyond that a kitchen that looks big enough to feed the entire town of Midwood. Finally she opens the door to a small room just big enough for a narrow bed and a small bureau.
“We’ll find you more permanent sleeping arrangements tomorrow,” Norah says, “but I don’t want to traipse through the girls’ dormitory at this hour and wake all the apprentices.”
She must see something unexpected in my expression, because she pauses for just a moment, her fingers curling around the door frame, and gives me a sympathetic frown. “I know this is a lot of change all at once. I’ll do my best to make sure you have friends here. That you feel welcomed.”
I want to tell her I don’t need her help making friends. I’d rather have her focus on making sure Latham pays for what he’s done. On getting my mother’s and Gran’s bones back before Latham uses them. But the words stick in my throat, and I just nod.
Norah pats my arm again. “Get some rest, and if you need anything, just call out. Rasmus will be close by.”
I think of all the times over the last few weeks I’ve felt the weight of a gaze at my back, and wonder if Norah had people watching me in Midwood, too.
After she leaves, I change into my sleeping clothes and crawl under the covers. I pull the blanket all the way to my chin. The sounds in Ivory Hall are unfamiliar, and I feel unsettled in such a strange place. But home wasn’t the same without my mother anyway. And it won’t be the same until I have her bones back, and Gran’s, too. It takes me a long time to drift off, but eventually the promise of revenge lulls me to sleep.
The nightmares follow me to Ivory Hall.
I dream of my mother’s death in vivid, horrid detail. Followed by Latham coming toward me with a weapon in his hand.
I jolt awake, sweating and gasping for breath. I stuff my knuckles into my mouth to keep from screaming.
Only a bad dream, I tell myself. Only my mind using my fear as fuel to re-create traumatic memories and invent new worries.
I reach for the wall to steady myself so I can sit up. But the moment my skin makes contact, I’m yanked back into the nightmare. I stand in a large space of some kind. The walls are lined with shelves overflowing with spell books, boxes of bones, unusual weapons, candles in various stages of use.
Music floats on the air.
I turn and see Latham, eyes eager and bright. And then the sword begins to fall.
I pull away from the wall and wrap my arms around my knees. Slow, cold horror settles over me. Norah’s voice echoes in my head: Ivory Hall is made entirely of bone.
What if my dreams aren’t nightmares? What if they’re premonitions? Just now, when I touched the wall … I don’t know how it would be possible without blood or flame, but it felt just like a bone reading. Of the future.
Of my death.
Chapter Three
The next morning, I wake to gentle rapping. I scrub at my eyes, disoriented. It takes me a moment to figure out where I am, but when I do, the night before rushes back, and my stomach lurches. Another knock sounds, and a girl around my own age pokes her head through the door.
“Saskia?”
I pull myself into a sitting position. “Yes?”
The girl enters and gives me a bright smile. She’s holding a tray laden with fruit and bread. Her wide brown eyes are framed by thick lashes, and dark curly hair tumbles down her back all the way to her waist. She reminds me of someone, but I can’t figure out who.
“Are you hungry?” I open my mouth to answer, but she slides the tray across my lap and keeps talking. “I guess that’s a silly question, since it’s nearly time for the midday meal and you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday. Unless Norah offered you a light meal last night? It doesn’t seem like she would have, but she surprises all of us sometimes.”
She pauses and tilts her head to one side as if she’s waiting for a reply.
“No, Norah didn’t offer me a meal.” I pick up a deep purple berry from the tray. “And yes, I’m hungry.”
“I thought you would be.” She sits on the end of the bed. A smattering of white star-shaped tattoos curve around the back of her ear, and her right arm is covered in indigo swirls. “I’m Tessa, by the way, your new roommate.”
Suddenly the pieces fall into place. I saw her in the bone reading; she was my roommate on my other path as well. Chills race up my arms. What are the chances I’d end up sharing a room with the exact same person? Unless we were fated to meet no matter which path survived?
She must notice a change in my expression, because her eyes go soft. “Are you feeling ill? Norah said that sometimes Bone Charmers have a harder time adjusting than the rest of us. It sounds miserable, but I could probably help if you aren’t feeling well. I could do a spell for nausea if you need it.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine,” I say, though it’s a lie. The nightmare—or was it a bone reading?—flits at the edges of my thoughts and it’s all I can do to keep the panic at bay. I pop the berry into my mouth and chew slowly. “You don’t have a roommate already?”
“No,” she says, drawing out the word so it sounds both humorous and annoyed. “There were uneven numbers, so I was assigned a solo room. But it’s been so dull all by myself—not to mention lonely—and I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.” Her hand folds around my ankle.