I open the jars one by one and touch each bone half until I find the one I’m looking for. I think back on one of the volumes on Bone Mending I’ve been studying. I practically memorized the section on bone grafts. Healers sometimes use donor bone fragments in their work—bits of bone belonging to another person that can be used to repair the bones of their patient.

If I can use the same principle, I should be able to create one bone from many, allowing me to carefully select the exact paths that will bring Latham the most misery. But first, I’ll need to slice a small piece from this bone—just the corner, where I read the possibility of Latham’s father going broke.

He can’t provide his son a deluxe kenning if he has no coin.

I’m so focused on the task, I startle when a strangled noise pulls my gaze upward.

The world goes silent and slow.

Tessa stands in the doorway. A man I recognize is positioned behind her. It’s Latham’s Breaker, Lars, the same man who killed Declan in Midwood. Who protected Latham so he could kill my mother. He must have just arrived, and now he has one arm pressed across Tessa’s shoulders pinning her back to his chest.

“I’m sorry, Saskia,” Tessa says. “I lost focus for just a moment. And I—” Her voice cuts off as he squeezes her windpipe with his free hand.

I turn to Latham.

“Tell him to let her go.”

“Tell your friend to give me the jar.”

I hesitate, my gaze skipping between Tessa and Latham. My mind scrambles for a way out of this. For a way to protect Tessa without giving up my hand. But I can’t think of one.

“Give it to him,” I tell Talon.

“Saskia—”

“He’ll kill her,” I say. “Give it to him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Give it to him.” My voice is flat.

Talon steps forward and places the jar on the floor halfway between me and Latham. Latham grimaces as he inches forward and snatches it up. He cradles it in the crook of his elbow.

“Now tell your Breaker to let Tessa go,” I say. Latham gives a small nod to Lars. I turn and wait for him to release her.

But he doesn’t.

He snaps her neck.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tessa’s eyes go wide. Startled.

And then they go blank.

Lars lets go, and Tessa slumps to the ground. I run to her. Her head is bent at an odd angle. I press a palm against her cheek and try to turn her face toward me. I lift my other arm, but then I drop it back to my side; I don’t have another hand to help her.

Behind me, commotion erupts. Bones snapping, furniture toppling, the crash of broken glass. But I don’t take my eyes from Tessa.