They’re spread across the long wooden table in the center of the room, piled in boxes near the door. I spot her left humerus painted with her mastery tattoo—a series of interlocking lines that look a bit like a tree, with branches reaching upward and roots reaching down. Her right hip bone with the tattoo—a bright purple flower in bloom—that she claimed appeared the first time she danced with my grandfather. Grief chokes my throat. I grab a box and start to gather the bones. We have to get out of here before Latham comes back.

But then something draws my eye and I freeze.

In the corner of the room are a set of shelves lined with dozens of glass jars, each housing a broken bone suspended in nutrient solution.

They look identical to the solution my mother and I used to heal Gran’s broken bone. But why would Latham break these bones on purpose? Especially when he worked so hard to get them. Questions roll around my mind, but the answers keep spinning away.

“Saskia?” Bram says. “Are you all right?”

I had completely forgotten the others were here. They all look stunned. Shaken.

“No,” I say, “I’m not.”

He cups my elbow gently. “Explain this to me.”

“I’m not sure I can.” My voice collapses. My knees feel weak.

Bram guides me to a chair, and I sit. He crouches next to me. Speaks softly, as if I’m a scared animal who might bolt at any moment.

“These bones … they belong to your mother?”

My mother. A wave of nausea rolls over me. In my shock over seeing Gran’s bones, I hadn’t thought about my mother’s. Where are they?

I shake my head. “Gran’s.”

Bram opens his mouth to ask another question, but Tessa speaks before he has a chance. “Saskia, how did Latham get this?” Her voice is quiet, but it has an edge that sends a chill down my spine.

I stand. “Get what?”

Tessa holds up a vial of blood. “It’s marked with your name.”

My palm flies to my throat. I think of kissing Declan. Of pressing the numbing needle to his skin. The only reason Latham would need my blood is if he were reading my future. I press the back of my hand to my mouth. When did he get my blood? How? Whoever he’s working with at Ivory Hall must have helped him. Could it be Master Kyra? I prick my fingers with needles in her presence all the time. Maybe she’s found a way to collect my blood from the bones I used in readings. I shiver as I think of the challenge in the Fortress. The blood smeared on my neck after my vision of Latham. Did he gather my blood then?