The Mark had been enough for her at first.
Then she took a shortcut through a small, dingy apartment, trying to avoid a contingent of the Grand Guard, and found herself listening to something on the edge of her hearing.
It was musical but strange... it set her teeth on edge. Emily followed the sound to a box buried deep in a closet. Inside, buried in a handkerchief was a bonecharm.
She knew what it was. Alexi had given her one after she met Wyman to prevent pregnancy. They'd never spoken about it after, and Emily hadn't shown it to anyone, not even Corvo. Perhaps especially not Corvo.
What she didn't expect was the way she could feel this new one's energy. It was a small thing—a small jolt against her skin, immediately settling into a faint hum in the back of her mind that she only noticed when she focused upon it.
Was this an effect of the Mark on her hand? She'd never noticed the singing of her bonecharm before. Did being linked to the Outsider, to the Void make her more sensitive to the things that drew upon it?
A folded square of white at the bottom of the box caught her eye.
The paper was worn and creased, smudged with so many stains she almost threw it aside, except for the words that seemed to leap off the page at her.
They were instructions for carving bone charms.
It seemed a fairly simple process—nothing like the Abbey described: nonsense about selling pieces of your soul to the Outsider and consigning yourself to the Void. This read more like a recipe for a cake... a very bizarre, and, okay, creepy cake.
There was also two small pieces of whalebone—normal, unmarked whalebone—rattling around in the box. Without thinking, Emily tucked them into her pocket along with the instructions and the bone charm, and shoved the box back into the closet.
Later that night, back on the Dreadful Wale, she puzzled over the instructions and the whalebone. Afraid to try, lest she ruin the only pieces she had, but wanting desperately to have an edge against the Grand Guard. Against Delilah.
"Hey, Kaldwin-" The door creaked open and Megan stood at the door to her cabin, staring open mouthed at the bone and knife in Emily's hands and the glowing bonecharm on the desk.
"I'm not a witch," Emily blurted out.
Megan cocked her head, considering her, then chuckled and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Neither was I. Now, give me that knife before you hurt yourself, and I'll show you how it's done."