“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?”

“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.