The bone house in Kastelia City is nothing like the one in Midwood. It’s huge—a stone structure that looks more like a castle than a cottage. And when we step inside, instead of one Master Bone Handler and an apprentice, we find more than a dozen of each. Apprentices sit at large circular tables, hunched over bones in various states of preparation. Some of the Handlers work on cleaning the bones—scooping out marrow with small wooden spoons, dunking bones in bleaching solutions, or clearing off dust with small brushes. Other Handlers sit at tables painting on replicas of tattoos. Still others poke holes in the bones with small metal pinners and submerge them in various solutions.

The sight deflates me. There are so many Bone Handlers here. It will take hours to question them all, and we don’t even know where to start. But then I remember that Rayna Roe has probably been rotting on Fang Island for years already. This is a reenactment of a case. I glance around for anyone who looks like they don’t belong. Who looks like they might be an actor instead of a real Bone Handler.

An apprentice approaches us, tall and gangly, a thin coat of white dust covering his green apron. “Can I help you?”

“We have a few questions,” Tessa says. “We’re looking for someone who might have trained here. Or maybe trained others?” She bites her lip as she glances down at the parchment. “There’s no age listed.”

The apprentice cocks his head to one side. “Does this person have a name?”

Tessa blushes. “Oh. Yes, of course. Her name is Rayna Roe.”

A dark cloud passes over the apprentice’s face, and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. He glances over both shoulders as if he’s worried someone overheard the question.

“Sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“I think you’re lying,” Bram says.

The apprentice shoots a furtive look at the pouch hanging from Bram’s belt. He licks his lips. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Ice slides down my spine. He doesn’t seem like he’s acting. He seems genuinely afraid.

“Let us be clear,” I say. “We’re not trying to break any rules. And we’re not asking you to break any rules. We’re just wondering if you’ve ever heard of Rayna Roe. Please? It’s important.”

“We could always try asking someone else,” Talon says, standing on his tiptoes and glancing around the room.

The apprentice puts a hand on Talon’s forearm. “Don’t bother. No one will tell you anything.”

Bram gives him a pointed glare, and the apprentice seems to wither under his gaze. “I don’t know much,” he says. “Only that there were rumors a while back—”

“Sven,” one of the Masters barks from across the room. “What’s going on over there?”