Page 38 of Veil of Blood and Bone

Audra balanced on her metal legs, working the crutches to hop forward. “What do you have?”

“Mom’s runes.” There’s no sense in hiding it from her.

“I thought you⁠—”

“I did,” I’m quick to interrupt. “I saw them at the festival and put them in my underwear when the troll attacked. The Spanx held them in, I guess.”

She sets her crutches aside and balances on unsteady legs as she maneuvers in the chair. “Sneaky. I never thought we’d see them again.”

I tap out an uneven rhythm with my fingers until Audra groans.

“Do it already instead of staring at them.”

She’s right. I’ve been putting this off. The leather bag, the contents, they’re too much of a memory. Unwinding the strings will unleash our Mom and the way she used to weave flowers into crowns. The way she’d stretch a can of Spaghetti-O's into two meals for two of us, never herself. Hers was a life forged in mistakes and misfortune.

But these runes, she treasured. They moved with us through each new adventure.

Audra’s pulse ticks on the side of her neck, her long curls secured in twin braids. Her dark gaze meets mine.

With her watching, I untie the strings and unfasten the bag, centering myself. I close my eyes before reaching inside the depths and stretch my breathing into something slow and methodical.

I’m not my mother. She found her answers in the crystal and bone.

I never had.

Why would today be different?

If anyone inherited her gift of insight, it’s Audra, not me.

The living room windows are open, the fresh cool breeze pushing away the age in the apartment.

I’m centered and calm. I ask my higher self to answer for me now, and to give me the solution I seek for the highest good of all.

I pull another rune like I used to, the way my mother taught me, clutching the piece in my hand. It’s crystal this time. I know from the sharp edges and corners of the cut.

“What is it?” Audra asks. Her voice is distant.

I slowly uncurl my fingers and resting on my palm is Perthro (ᛈ ).

Sadness wells, slick as oil. “Chance,” I explain, turning it over in circles. “Mystery, fate. Destiny. The unpredictability of life.”

Yeah, no kidding.

Uncertainty is our bread and butter.

I changed schools so many times I can’t count a single friend I made who’s stuck with me. Only my sister, and she has no choice. Even college hadn’t been an option after what happened.

“It can also signify hidden knowledge or secrets, or the need to adapt to ever-changing circumstances.”

“Or, hear me out,” Audra puts in. “If you interpret it positively, it can point to taking control over your own destiny. It was upright. Not reversed.”

Reversed would make more sense for us. Inverted indicates bad luck, or disillusionment.

“It’s fine.” I slip the rune into the pocket of my jeans. “It’s a good omen for the day. Which is great because I have to head into work. Those bookshelves aren’t going to arrange themselves alphabetically.”

Not to mention, Barnes will want a full catalog of the inventory lost under the stampede.

I push away from the table to the tune of Audra’s groan. “You know it’s better to do it by genre,” she replies.