Page 2 of Bone Year

I don’t want to ruin what we have, and I know he won’t be here forever.

He’s too talented to stay in a place like this.

I don’t want to be the one left hurting when he leaves.

“Sounds great, but let’s walk for the first thirty minutes or so until my food settles,” I say.

He nods, already on his feet and heading for the door.

“Maelis, where are you going?” Briana asks as she descends the stairs into the clinic, her blonde hair still a mess of waves as she prepares to start her morning checklist before opening for patients.

“A run. I’ll see you tonight,” I say.

I’m halfway out the door when she calls, “Tonight, but⁠—”

I don’t turn back. I don’t feel like explaining myself. After our run, I already know where I’m going.

My father’s office.

It’s next door to the clinic, untouched by everyone but me since his death. My mother can’t bring herself to go inside. Some days, she can barely look at me at all after the incident. It’s fine. I don’t want to look at her either after that night.

I need something to fill my time. Something to keep my hands busy and my thoughts quiet. Going through my father’s things has become my way of doing that. His books. His journals. His patient records. Each page feels like a thread still tying him to this world, tying him to me.

It’s how I keep him close, how I hold on a little longer.

And it’s the only place I know where no one will bother me.

“Come on, Mae, cheer up. Look how beautiful it is this morning. The sun’s shining. The air is fresh. You’re alive,” Jace says, teasing as he nudges me while we walk.

I glance up at him and let my lips quirk on one side. A half smile is all I can manage. I’ve been in such a rut lately, and I know I need to pull myself out of it. I don’t know how yet.

“So, have you heard anything from Ashwell?” I ask, changing the subject. A small, selfish part of me hopes he hasn’t.

Ashwell Academy of Medicine and Alchemy is the most elite school for healers. I had never even heard of it before Jace, which makes sense considering they don’t accept humans. They train magical bloodlines to become Veilguards, and getting in is nearly impossible.

Jace talks about it like it’s more a myth than a school. No one knows where it’s located. Some don’t even believe it exists. The way he describes it, it sounds more like a secret society than an academy. Still, it’s his dream to get in.

He’s applied every year for the last three years and never hears a word.

I asked him once how he applies if no one knows where the school is. He explained it’s magic. You send your application with a spell, and it finds its way on its own. I asked what happens if it finds its way into the school’s toilet instead, but he didn’t appreciate the question. I appreciated it enough for both of us.

“I haven’t heard anything,” he says, shoulders slumping.

Feeling guilty, I think maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.

“It’s been one hundred and sixteen years since the last cycle. Maybe they stopped training Veilguards. If the cycles are over, it wouldn’t be needed anymore,” I say, kicking a loose rock off the cobblestone road.

“That sounds like a very human thing to say.” Jace says without looking over at me. “As long as there are people walking the earth, the cycles will continue. Balance is a necessity.”

The cycle comes every hundred years like clockwork, according to history. A constant written into records older than Valen itself. Still, it’s hard for most humans to truly grasp what that means. Our lives are too short, blinks in the grand scheme of things compared to other bloodlines.

Most of us will never witness a cycle firsthand, and any humans who did are long gone now, their stories reduced to ink on aging pages and fading warnings no one takes seriously anymore.

“Ashwell would be lucky to have you. They don’t know what they’re doing if they think you’re not a good fit. Maybe they want to see more clinic hours with the magic-blessed bloodlines like you instead of humans,” I say, tucking a stray copper strand behind my ear.

Veilguards are the most elite battlefield healers in the world, trained to heal both humans and magical races. According to the history books, they’re what keep the world from tipping over the edge each cycle. Without them, we wouldn’t stand a chance against the twisted creatures that emerge from the fissures when the balance begins to falter.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Jace says, “but I don’t know enough to say what their criteria is or how anyone is chosen. My parents say the school itself is like a living entity. It has its own magical core that chooses its students.”