Empire of Bones by N. D. Wilson

blazing to ashes. That is their usefulness.”
    “Are all villains fools?” Rupert asked, shaking his head. “What good is that to Bellamy? Phoenix is hidden. Bellamy and his version of the Order will be destroyed.”
    “Out of ashes …,” Flint said, and he grinned. When he continued, his voice was hushed. “Phoenix rises. A new race, a new species, and we will be named for our father. We must be unmade to be remade. If we serve him well, he will give us new lives and new flesh. Beside us, you’ll be the apes. Even Radu and his dragons will tremble in fear.”
    The blade flicked down. Antigone yelped, and Flint jerked in his chair. But Rupert had only notched the man’s ear.
    “What things did Skelton hide that Phoenix needs?” Rupert asked.
    “People,” Flint sputtered. “Exiles. Relics. Weapons. The Dracul Gin.”
    “He lies,” the Captain blurted. “I hid away the dragon gin with my own two hands. Lop the little hedgepig’s neck and set his craven skull a-bowling.”
    Cyrus saw Niffy look up at the Captain’s words. His grip on Flint didn’t slacken, but his interested eyes stayed on the Captain.
    Rupert studied Flint’s floury face. “Pythia,” Rupert said, “does the man lie?”
    No one answered.
    “Pythia?” Rupert asked. He glanced back at the silent crowd. Cyrus turned as well, scanning the corners. He hadn’t known the little rope-haired oracle was at the camp. Of course, he hadn’t known that Gil and the Captain would be here, either.
    “When you say Pythia ,” Niffy asked, “you wouldn’t be meaning the Pythia?”
    Nolan laughed. Rupert didn’t answer. He focused on the Captain.
    “John Smith?” His voice was hard. “Where is she?”
    The Captain shrugged. “She’s just a wee lass. I don’t keep her in chains.”
    “The roof,” Gilgamesh said, and his voice rumbled like a big bass drum. Cyrus felt it in the floorboards. Gil nodded his massive head up at the beams. “She roosts above.” The giant man’s cow-size eyes rolled back down and met Cyrus’s. Cyrus looked away quickly.
    “No lie,” Flint said desperately. “I swear, I’m tellingonly truth, mate. Skelton sabotaged Phoenix for years, ghosting away every relic he could, every time the boss sent him after something. No one knew until he swiped the tooth for himself, and then he took off running.”
    Rupert lowered his sword and backed away. Niffy stood the chair back up, and Flint sagged with relief.
    “Oh, Lord love you, brother. I’ll do anything you ask.”
    “Arachne,” Rupert said, “put him to sleep.”
    Small Arachne slipped forward, her spider bag over her shoulder, where it always was. When she passed Cyrus, her arm brushed his and his skin tightened with the cold like he’d just touched ten years of moonlight. When she reached Flint, she unslung the heavy bag from her shoulder. Flint stared at her, confused, eyes wide.
    “How long?” Arachne asked. Her voice was cool and quiet.
    “A year,” Rupert said. “At the least.”
    Arachne nodded and set her heavy bag on Flint’s lap. She whistled lightly between her teeth, and Cyrus bit his lip as a large charcoal spider with white speckles scrambled out of the bag and up Flint’s chest. Smaller spiders followed, but the man didn’t notice. His eyes were lost in Arachne’s, lost somewhere distant and cold, arctic and blue.
    “Your dreams needn’t be horrors,” Arachne said quietly, and she touched Flint’s sweating cheek. “Theyneedn’t mirror your darkness. Look beyond yourself. Dream in the light.”
    Flint jerked as the spiders bit. Cyrus wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. The man who had tried to kill him blinked slowly, his tongue crept out of his mouth, and then his head lolled to the side. He was unconscious.
    “Justice,” Llewellyn said loudly, “would have been the blade.”
    “Aye,” said the Captain.
    “You can’t be serious,” Antigone said. “Rupert’s not a murderer. We can’t just kill people.”
    Rupert