Page 9 of Bone Year

I lean back against the wall, pressing my palms flat to the cold stone as I draw in a slow, steadying breath.

Whatever Ashwell is, I’m in it now.

The room is beyond strange. I don’t know what I expected, but this isn’t it.

Golden light spills from a chandelier and pools on the floor. The ceiling vaults high above, painted in dark blues and muted gold, the geometrical shape pulling my eyes upward whether I want them there or not.

A four-poster bed dominates the right side of the room, dark wood wrapped in teal fabric. The bedding is layered in deep green and pale blue, tucked so tight it looks like no one has ever pulled it back. Maybe no one has.

The floor hums beneath my boots, a mosaic of inlaid stone and tile forming interlocking circles that compel me to step farther into the room. A narrow beige throw runs the length of the bed.

Two tall arched windows line the far wall. Frost creeps inward across the glass. Beyond them, nothing. No landscape, no lights. Darkness swallows everything, a sliver of moon too weak to fight it.

A heavy wooden desk is between the windows, bare except for an unlit candle and a stack of parchment. The chair is pushed in tight. A wardrobe is opposite the bed, its doors carved with vines that twist upward. Everything is beautiful.

I cross the room and open the wardrobe. Inside hangs a single black cloak, identical to the one the fae wore only this one has a thin purple border lining it. I pull it free, and the weight surprises me. My gaze catches on the markings stitched across the back. Three symbols arranged vertically, each contained within an intricate circular border that looks burned into the cloth rather than sewn.

The top circle depicts a ribcage with the head of a wolf suspended inside it staring straight at me. The middle holds a heart, dark and anatomically precise, a serpent coiled around it. The bottom symbol shows a bat with its wings spread wide and a pair of lungs below it. Interesting and slightly unsettling. I slide the cloak back onto its hanger and push it farther into the wardrobe.

There is a folded sweater bearing the same wolf and ribcage sigil in a purple amethyst color, along with a simple black shirt, a skirt, and a pair of black pants. Everything is dark. I open the drawers beneath and find a mixture of unfamiliar clothing and, to my surprise, some of my own. Magic. I spot a familiar pair of soft navy pajamas and grab them.

On the far side of the bed, another door leads into a small bathroom. Stone basin, toilet, and a tub tucked beneath an arched alcove with a narrow showerhead mounted above it. Modest but immaculate. I release a slow breath. Having my own bathroom feels like an unexpected mercy.

I change quickly, tugging on the silky pants and matching top then unwrap the toothbrush beside the sink and brush my teeth. When I finally look up, my reflection catches me off guard. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Copper hair loose and frizzed, falling out of my ponytail. I look like someone who barely survived the day.

What will the other students think when they see me tomorrow? Will I be the only human here? Does Ashwell truly not accept humans at all, and if so, why am I standing in this room like I belong? Maybe Jace was wrong.

I drag my hands down my face. I should wash properly, search for soap, lotion, anything that might make me feel marginally more like myself. The thought alone exhausts me.

Instead, I turn off the lights and crawl into bed. The mattress sinks beneath me, softer and more luxurious than anything I’ve ever slept on, the pillow cool against my cheek. I lie there staring up at the canopy, mind still circling the same unanswered questions. I hope Jace made it home okay after going back to see that man’s body. I’d give anything to see his face when he finds out where I ended up. He’s hardly going to believe it.

I hardly believe it yet myself.

Gods, I hope my mother and sister aren’t panicking right now. I hope someone actually told them where I am, instead of leaving them to imagine the worst. I’m assuming someone had to talk to them if they got my clothes. I hope tomorrow brings better answers than the ones that fae gave me tonight, because I feel like I have no idea what I’ve got myself into.

I toss and turn beneath the covers, the bed far too soft for how restless I feel. My mind refuses to settle, thoughts looping endlessly, replaying the silver flame, the parchment, my father. Exhaustion eventually drags me under. At least the room is quiet and safe.

I’m suddenly jolted awake at the sound of the door flying open.

Chapter Four

“Eidolon animals become part of the owner, bonded to them and tied to their very life source, forming as a manifested reflection of the student’s inner essence.”

— First Year Handbook, Mirror Ceremony Procedure

“Rise and shine, little boner.”

The voice is cheerful. Far too cheerful.

My door slams shut. I could have sworn I locked it last night. I blink, still half trapped between sleep and waking, as I take in the unfamiliar girl standing a few feet away.

“Little what?” I ask, certain I must have misheard.

She grins. A girl not much older than me with long black hair and dark, amused eyes tucks a strand behind her ear as she wanders farther into the room like she belongs here. She stops at my wardrobe, pulls it open, and immediately starts rifling through my things.

“I’m just messing with you. It’s your bone year, so the name is fitting.”

“Sorry,” I say, dragging the blankets higher around me, “who the fuck are you, and why are you in my room?”