My hands shake as I measure bone dust into the traveling bowl, trying to remember everything Master Corwin taught me about field work. Three years of training, hundreds of practice rituals, and I still feel like a child playing with forces beyond my understanding.
“Steady, Lerna,” I whisper to myself, using the same tone Master Corwin employed when I was learning to light my first bone fire. “You know this. You’ve done this.”
But I haven’t done this. Not alone. Not as the sole Bonekeeper responsible for an entire settlement’s spiritual welfare.
The village of Gravenreach spreads below my hilltop campsite, thirty-seven souls depending on me to solve a problem that has their local Bonekeeper completely baffled. Master Holden sent word to the Choir three weeks ago, their settlement’s protective wards have been failing, but he can’t determine why. The standing dead in their orchard have begun to turn away from their posts, and strange dreams plague anyone who sleeps within the village boundaries.
“Classic spiritual disturbance,” Master Corwin said when he assigned me the mission. “Perfect for a final examination. Find the source, determine the cause, implement the solution.”
He made it sound simple. He didn’t mention that being eighteen years old and looking like I should still be helping my mother with washing would make the locals treat me like an amusing novelty rather than legitimate help.
The bone dust settles into familiar patterns as I complete the traveling blessing, asking the ancestors to guide my steps and grant me wisdom. Tomorrow, I’ll meet Master Holden and begin my investigation properly.
Tonight, I’ll try not to throw up from nerves.
A branch cracks behind me, and I spin around, nearly knocking over the ritual bowl. A young man about my age stands at the edge of my firelight, hands raised in apology.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice warm with barely contained laughter. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Tam Brookwater. My father sent me to check on the visiting Bonekeeper.”
I try to straighten up and look professional, which is difficult when you’re crouched on the ground surrounded by ritual implements and probably have bone dust on your nose.
“Lerna Quist,” I manage. “Apprentice Bonekeeper, second circle, assigned to investigate your settlement’s spiritual disturbance.”
His grin widens. “That’s quite a title for someone who looks like she’s about to bolt into the woods.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “I’m perfectly qualified to handle this investigation.”
“I’m sure you are.” He settles onto a fallen log nearby, careful to stay outside my ritual circle. “Mind if I keep you company? It gets lonely up here, and Father says the woods have been… strange… lately.”
I should send him away. Master Corwin was always very clear about maintaining professional boundaries with locals. But there’s something about Tam’s easy smile and the way he respects my workspace that makes me want to talk to someone who isn’t a cranky old master or a judgmental peer.
“What kind of strange?” I ask, closing the ritual and packing my tools.
“Dreams, mostly. Everyone in the village has been having the same nightmare—something calling to us from the deep woods, begging us to come find it.” He pokes at my fire with a stick, sending sparks dancing into the night sky. “Master Holden says it’s connected to the ward failures, but he can’t figure out how.”
“The standing dead, are they all turning the same direction?”
“Northeast. Toward the old settlement ruins.” Tam’s expression grows serious. “The place where Gravenreach’s original founders tried to build, before they moved to the current location.”
I nearly drop my bone pouch. Failed settlements are mentioned exactly once in Bonekeeper training, in the context of “things apprentices should never investigate alone.” The spiritual disturbances left by abandoned settlements can be incredibly dangerous, especially if the original abandonment was traumatic.
“Why didn’t Master Holden mention ruins in his report?” I ask.
“Because nobody talks about the old settlement. It was abandoned before my grandparents were born. Most people have forgotten it exists.”
But the dead remember. The standing dead always remember.
I have a choice to make. Follow protocol and wait for Master Holden’s guidance tomorrow, investigating only the current village’s problems. Or acknowledge that the real source of the disturbance likely lies in the ruins… ruins that might hold answers crucial to solving this case.
Tam watches me struggle with the decision, his brown eyes reflecting firelight and something that might be concern.
“You’re thinking about going to the ruins, aren’t you?” he says quietly.
“I’m thinking about doing my job properly.” I finish packing my tools, trying to project confidence I don’t feel. “Which means following every lead, even the dangerous ones.”
“Then you’re not going alone.”
“Tam—”
“My family has lived here for three generations. I know those woods better than anyone.” His jaw sets with stubborn determination that reminds me uncomfortably of myself. “If you’re determined to poke around ancient spiritual disturbances, you need someone who can get you home safely.”
The practical part of me knows he’s right. The nervous part of me knows that accepting help from an attractive local boy is exactly the kind of unprofessional behavior that could end my apprenticeship.
The part of me that wants to succeed at this mission regardless of the cost makes the choice for all of us.
“We leave at dawn,” I tell him.
—
The ruins appear through morning mist like the bones of some ancient beast, stone foundations marking where houses once stood and dreams once flourished. Tam leads me through the remnants with sure steps, pointing out landmarks that exist only in local memory.
“The main hall stood there,” he says, indicating a circular depression filled with wildflowers. “The orchard was beyond that ridge. And the original bone circle—”
“Is still active.” I can feel it humming beneath my feet, power flowing through ley lines that should have gone dormant decades ago. “Tam, this settlement wasn’t just abandoned. It was sealed.”
I kneel beside what looks like scattered stones but reveals itself as a deliberately broken circle when I trace the pattern with my fingers. Someone performed a binding ritual here, locking away whatever caused the original inhabitants to flee.
“Sealed against what?” Tam crouches beside me, close enough that I can smell the cedar soap he uses and feel warmth radiating from his skin.
“I don’t know yet.” I pull out my traveling kit, setting up a quick scrying ritual to read the residual emotions in the stones. “But whatever it was, the seal is breaking down.”
The bone dust swirls in water drawn from the settlement’s original well, forming patterns that make my stomach clench. Fear. Desperation. The frantic energy of people trying to contain something beyond their understanding.
And underneath it all, a deep, aching loneliness that seems to reach directly into my chest and squeeze.
“They were trying to help something,” I whisper, reading the emotional echoes. “Something that was suffering. But when they tried to ease its pain…”
The scrying bowl suddenly cracks, water spilling across ancient stone as the vision cuts off abruptly.
“What happened?” Tam’s hand finds my shoulder, steadying me as I sway.
“Protective magic. The original Bonekeepers didn’t just seal this place, they made sure no one could easily discover what they sealed.” I wipe bone dust from my fingers, frustrated and intrigued in equal measure. “But they left clues. They always leave clues.”
We spend the morning searching the ruins systematically, Tam’s knowledge of local geography combining with my training to uncover hidden details. He finds a stone marker carved with warning runes. I discover a cache of bone tools buried beneath what was once the settlement’s shrine.
And slowly, working together with an ease that surprises us both, we piece together the story.
“It was a child,” I say during our midday rest, sharing bread and cheese that Tam brought from the village. “A child who died in the deep woods and couldn’t find her way to the standing grounds. She was lost between life and death, calling for help.”
“So they tried to help her cross over,” Tam follows the logic easily. “But something went wrong.”
“Something always goes wrong when you attempt spiritual rescue without proper training.” I take a sip of water, thinking through the implications. “The child’s loneliness and fear were so strong that instead of crossing over, she pulled the entire settlement into her spiritual state. Everyone started experiencing her emotions, her confusion, her desperate need for connection.”
“That’s why they had to abandon this place and start over.”
“And why they sealed it.” I look toward the deep woods where ancient trees block out the sun. “She’s still here, still calling. And after sixty years, the seal is finally breaking down.”
Tam goes very still. “Lerna. If she’s still calling, and the seal is breaking…”
“Then soon she’ll be able to reach the new settlement.” I stand abruptly, scattering crumbs. “We have to find her. We have to help her cross over properly before her influence spreads.”
“Into the deep woods?” Tam’s voice climbs slightly. “The places where even the hunters won’t go?”
“I’m a Bonekeeper,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as him. “This is what we do.”
But as we gather our supplies and head toward the treeline, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m about to attempt something far beyond my training. The loneliness radiating from the deep woods is already affecting me, making me want to reach out to Tam for comfort, making his presence feel necessary rather than merely helpful.
When his hand brushes mine as we duck under a low branch, the contact sends warmth shooting up my arm that has nothing to do with bone magic.
“Lerna,” he says softly. “Are you sure about this?”
I’m not sure about anything anymore. Not the mission, not my abilities, not the way my heart speeds up when he looks at me with those concerned brown eyes.
But I know what happens to Bonekeepers who fail their first solo mission.
“I’m sure,” I lie.
The deep woods swallow us like a hungry mouth, and behind us, the broken seal gives one final, warning crack.
We find her just as the sun begins to set, and she’s nothing like I expected.
The lost child sits in a clearing where flowers bloom out of season, humming a lullaby that makes my bones ache with recognition. She can’t be more than eight years old, with tangled hair and a dress that would have been fashionable sixty years ago.
She’s also completely solid, breathing, and very much alive.
“Hello,” she says when she notices us, her voice bright with pleasure. “I’ve been waiting for someone to come play with me.”
Tam and I exchange glances. This isn’t a spirit trapped between worlds. This is a living child who somehow survived alone in the deep woods for decades without aging.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I ask, using the gentle tone Master Corwin taught me for dealing with traumatized spirits.
“Rosie Millbrook.” She bounces to her feet, scattering flower petals. “I got lost when my family moved away, but I knew they’d come back for me eventually. Are you here to take me home?”
My training provides no guidance for this situation. Lost spirits can be guided to rest. Living people can be returned to their families. But a child who should be dead but isn’t, who’s been alone for sixty years but hasn’t aged or gone mad, that’s something entirely new.
“Rosie,” I say carefully, “do you remember how long you’ve been waiting here?”
“Oh, ages and ages. But time moves differently in the woods.” She tilts her head, studying me with eyes that are far too knowing for a child. “You’re a Bonekeeper, aren’t you? I can smell the ash on you.”
“Yes, I am. And I’m here to help you.”
“Good!” She claps her hands, and the sound echoes strangely in the clearing. “I’ve been practicing my magic while I waited. Would you like to see?”
Before I can answer, she reaches toward a dead tree at the clearing’s edge. At her touch, bark smooths, branches straighten, and fresh leaves burst from every twig. In seconds, the tree transforms from withered deadwood to vibrant life.
“Rosie,” I whisper, horror creeping up my spine. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“The woods taught me. They felt sorry for me being all alone, so they shared their secrets.” Her smile is innocent and terrible. “I can make anything bloom again. I can bring back anything that’s lost.”
Including herself.
Rosie isn’t trapped between life and death. She’s transcended both. She’s become something else, something that doesn’t follow the normal rules of existence. And her loneliness, her desperate need for connection, has been radiating outward for sixty years, seeking others to join her in this timeless state.
“The settlement,” Tam breathes, understanding dawning in his eyes. “The dreams, the ward failures—”
“She’s been calling them,” I finish. “Trying to bring them here to keep her company.”
“And it’s working,” Rosie says happily. “Soon everyone will come to the woods, and we’ll all be together forever. Won’t that be wonderful?”
The trees around the clearing lean inward, as if listening. The very air seems thick with unnatural life, and I realize that everything here, the blooming flowers, the perfect temperature, the golden light that doesn’t match the setting sun, is maintained by Rosie’s impossible magic.
“We have to go,” I whisper to Tam. “Now.”
But when we turn toward the treeline, the path we followed is gone. In its place, more clearing, more perfect flowers, more trees that watch with too-intelligent eyes.
“Don’t leave,” Rosie says, and her child’s voice carries a note of command that makes my bones vibrate. “I’ve been alone for so long. Stay and play with me.”
Compulsion washes over me like a warm tide, and I feel my resistance beginning to crumble. This place is peaceful. Safe. Why would anyone want to leave?
Tam’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight. “Lerna,” he says urgently. “Fight it. Remember why we came here.”
But I’m already forgetting. The mission seems distant, unimportant. What matters is the little girl who needs friends, who’s been waiting so patiently for someone to stay.
What matters is the way Tam’s hand feels in mine, the way his presence makes everything better.
Maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad.
The moment I stop fighting Rosie’s influence, everything becomes clear.
Not the false clarity of magical compulsion, but real comprehension of what I’m facing and what I have to do.
“You’re not evil,” I say, releasing Tam’s hand and approaching the child slowly. “You’re just lonely.”
“Of course I’m lonely.” Tears well in her too-old eyes. “I’ve been waiting for my family for sixty years. I’ve been hoping someone would stay with me for sixty years. But everyone always leaves.”
“Because they have lives to return to. Families of their own. Responsibilities.”
“Not here.” She gestures around the impossible clearing. “Here, none of that matters. Here, we can just be together and happy forever.”
I kneel to her level, ignoring the way the ground beneath me seems to pulse with unnatural life. “Rosie, what if I told you there was a place where you could be with your family again? Your real family, the ones you’ve been missing all this time?”
“They left me,” she whispers. “They moved away and forgot about me.”
“No, sweetheart. They didn’t forget. They died.” The words are gentle but firm. “Your whole family died in the epidemic that swept through the old settlement. You were supposed to die too. You were supposed to cross over with them.”
“I don’t want to die!”
“You don’t have to die. You just have to let go.” I extend my hand, calling on every lesson Master Corwin ever taught me about dealing with traumatized spirits. “You’ve been holding onto life so tightly that you’ve forgotten what living actually means.”
“But if I let go, I’ll be alone again.”
“No.” I smile, feeling tears on my own cheeks. “You’ll be with everyone who’s been waiting for you. Your mother, your father, your brothers and sisters. They’ve been calling to you from the standing grounds for sixty years, but you couldn’t hear them over your own fear.”
For a moment, the clearing wavers. The impossible flowers flicker, and I catch a glimpse of what this place really looks like, a simple forest glade, peaceful but ordinary, with a small grave marker almost hidden beneath decades of fallen leaves.
“I’m scared,” Rosie admits.
“I know. But you don’t have to be scared alone.” I stand and offer both hands. “Come with me to the standing grounds. I’ll help you cross over properly. I’ll make sure you find your family.”
“Promise?”
The weight of the oath settles on my shoulders like Master Corwin’s training cloak, heavy, but exactly the right fit.
“I promise.”
She takes my hands, and the moment she does, the false clearing begins to dissolve. The watching trees become ordinary forest. The perfect flowers fade to normal woodland growth. And Rosie herself becomes translucent, her solid form revealing the spirit she’s always been.
“I can hear them,” she says wonderingly. “They’re calling my name.”
“Then go to them.”
She releases my hands and takes a step toward something I can’t see. Then another. On the third step, she turns back.
“Thank you,” she says. “For helping me remember.”
And then she’s gone, leaving only a sense of peace and the distant sound of joyful reunion.
Tam and I stand in the ordinary clearing for a long moment, processing what we’ve just witnessed. When he finally speaks, his voice is full of awe.
“That was incredible. You actually did it.”
“We did it,” I correct, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing, how his eyes reflect the last light of actual sunset. “I couldn’t have found her without you. Couldn’t have resisted her influence without someone to anchor me.”
“Lerna…” He reaches up to touch my face, thumb brushing away tears I didn’t realize were still falling. “Are you all right?”
“I’m perfect,” I say, and realize it’s true.
My first solo mission is complete. The settlement is safe. The lost spirit has found peace.
And when Tam leans down to kiss me, soft and sweet and full of promise, I discover that some magic has nothing to do with bones or death or duty.
Some magic is just about two people choosing to be brave together.
“Come on,” I say when we finally break apart. “Let’s go home.”
Behind us, the ordinary clearing settles into ordinary peace, watched over by ordinary trees that no longer need to remember a little girl’s impossible dream.
The standing dead of Gravenreach can return to their proper watch.
And I can return to Master Corwin with confidence that I’m ready for whatever comes next.